'The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.' We have all heard the phrase. Many have experienced the realities. After thirteen years engaged as a competitive participant, I then embraced thirty-nine years coaching competitive athletic teams. I know the sweetness of victorious celebration and the empty loneliness of defeat.
My father's early tutoring conditioned me to be humble in victory and resolved in defeat. He likewise instilled in me that I must never permit winning or losing to define me. He said the measure of a person is the willingness to compete again and again.
Often times, sport consumes the spirit when perspective is skewed. Let me share a sobering moment that seared sport perspective in my mind forever. I was nineteen years old. I had just completed my first year playing basketball and baseball at Illinois State. I was successful and filled with self. One summer evening, I was standing at the kitchen window with my mother looking out on our backyard basketball court. A 12 year old neighbor boy, David was shooting baskets alone. I said, "Mom, David is not growing very much." Mother spoke softly with a cracking voice, "David is very sick. His mom and dad shared with us a few weeks ago that David has leukemia." Four months later, my mother wrote to tell me David had died. He was a young boy who never played the games and never experienced the thrill of victory, only the agony of a terrible defeat.
I coached nearly 1,000 high school basketball games. During the National anthem before each game, I whispered a prayer thanking God for his blessings and healthy kids who were about to compete. I closed that prayer asking Him to be with all the David's of this world.
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