Losing

As some of you know, the Boy is rather intense.  This spring, he joined his middle school junior varsity soccer team.  The school is in its first year, and many of kids who are outstanding soccer players did not try out for the school team.  Other middle schools might four or five kids from elite teams.  The Boy's team has a few select players, at best.  In the first four games of the season, they have scored one goal.

The Boy was having a very hard time being one of the better players on his team and watching his team get crushed.  He seems okay if his team loses and he is a bench warmer: he knows it isn't his fault if better players than him lost the game.  If he plays poorly and the team loses, he often blames himself.

Two weeks ago, the Boy was playing defense, and the other team scored three times in about five minutes.  The Boy was visibly frustrated.  It didn't help that four players on the team were out because they forgot to turn in their grade sheets.  The coach pulled the Boy out of the game, and he was in tears.  He yelled at the coach, "I am NOT a center defender.  I am terrible at this position.  I can't play center D!"

I winced.  I hoped the coach didn't think my kid was an ass.

The next week, the Boy's team was getting shellacked.  They were down 0-4 at the beginning of the second half.  I worried the Boy would flip out again, but he didn't.  He kept playing without getting frustrated.  They lost the game 0-7.

After the game, the boys were off goofing around, shooting goals at one and other.  The Boy was smiling and laughing, something I have never seen after a 0-7 loss.  One of the moms and I approached the coach.  He asked if our kids were having fun.

"Tanner is having a blast!" she said.  The coach smiled.

"I am the Boy's mom," I said.  The coach pulled his head back slightly afraid.  "He is as serious as a heart attack."  The coach laughed.

"He got mad at me last week," he said.

"No," I replied.  "He was mad at himself.  I am so sorry he reacted that way."  I didn't explain that the Boy has been working on trying to keep his emotional reaction under control when he is trying his hardest and he feels like he is failing.

The coach seemed relieved that the Boy wasn't mad at him specifically.  People often forgive the Boy for being overwhelmed.  They see how much he cares and how hard he tries.   Nevertheless, it is hard to be around the Boy when things are falling apart.

When we were driving home, I asked the Boy about the game.

"When we were down 0-4, I knew we were going to lose.  I figured I might as well just keep playing."

I was happy for the Boy.  He is learning to face loss and not take it personally.  Sometimes you go out and put your heart into what you are doing, and it doesn't work the way you planned.  At least your heart is still beating.  I hope this serves him well.  It will either make him a fierce but calm competitor like Bjorn Borg, or conversely member of the Chicago Cubs.  Either way, I am glad he is outgrowing his John McEnroe phase.