THE AGONY OF VICTORY & THE THRILL OF DEFEAT

Confused? Well, you'll understand it soon enough...

When I last left you, I had written, RISING TO THE OCCASION, alittle story about my 2 sons, on 2 different teams, fighting for the same trophy. No, they didn't play each other, but if they each won their games Saturday night, they would have.  My oldest son has to win, there is no other way. My second born plays because he has friends on the team.  He doesn't care if he wins or loses, he doesn't love baseball, he tolerates it and if the season ended today, he'd be fine... so here's part 2...

Saturday night was not exactly how my oldest son's team wanted to go out.  We wanted to make the finals standing tall on the first base line staring at the American flag and listening to the National Anthem before the game even began. There, his team would reflect on where we began and then realize where they ended up.  We wanted to be champions walking into the finals and hoping to have a big victory at the end of it… but it didn't work out that way.

We were down by a large margin the entire game. Our “Little Team that Could” was off balance in the batter's box.  There was a eye black smeared all over their faces. That was because the tears just melted it all away.  They tried their best to power through, but they noticed something was happening and they weren't getting anywhere, so, they adjusted… but more on that in a minute.

I always tell you about 1 "moment" that turns an entire game around and that night it was a simple fielding play from shortstop to second to get the lead base runner, ultimately ending their opponent's rally.  When my team came in after that out, they were inspired, they had smiles. They were no longer upset. Instead, they were ready for the comeback.  This is a club that had come back in 6 straight games this season. Suddenly being down 10-4 wasn’t a big deal anymore.  In their last at bat, the 6^th inning, they were patient at the plate, and worked the counts like they’d been rehearsing it all season. That wasn’t always the case for us. My team is aggressive in the box, swinging through the zone a lot.  Suddenly that night, there were walks, and RBI’s and before you know it, we had the bases loaded and a 10-9 game. We were almost there...

With 2 outs and 2 strikes, one of our favorites came to the plate.  And with 1 swing of the bat, he cranked a high, deep pop fly to center field.  It was slow motion… but we lost as it landed in the outfielder’s mitt. The game was over. We go home.

I expected a therapy session in the dugout. I expected tears, carrying on and just a disastrous ending.  That never happened.  My team stood like champions and wished their opponent well.  I later asked one of the boys how come he wasn’t more upset.  He looked at me and simply said “Because we knew we could beat these guys and we almost did.” “Was it because you didn’t get blown out,” I asked. “Yup”, he said, “If we lost 10-4, I would have been really mad! Thanks Coach.”  We high-fived and we ended company there.  As he walked with his parents to the car, I realized that this team had already won.  The comeback alone was their own World Series and they didn’t walk away sad, or upset, they walked away proud. That being said, my son was upset, because every game has to end up in a victory for him.  He has this Paul O’Neill “I must get a hit every single time” mentality that literally scares the hell out of me, but what happened next made it all worth it.

My second son had his semi-final game as well, the same time, another field.  Their team is probably the most balanced, smartest team I’ve seen all season.  They are a nice group of kids with great coaching. I’m the 5^th wheel on this team, but I like to contribute when I can and be there for my sweet boy.

Their came in and while they carried their confidence with them, there was also alittle struggle.  Their opponents were no slackers. There were strikeouts, hit bats men, my son included, but they grinding it out like every game Jorge Posada has ever been in.  They played tough; good pitching, great fielding and terrific hitting. In the end, they won their semi-final game and like professional ballplayers, they stood tall and shook hands.  This is a group of kids that don’t razz their opponents about how “they sucked.”  Instead, they think it through, they play their game and they don’t care who they play.  In the end, the team razzing them was the team that went home.  I guess that’s just their own fear, because our guys never flinched.

When I got the word, I told my oldest the news. He simply said “That’s awesome!”  He was smiling. He was proud of his little brother. Now, truth be told, my second son didn’t help much at the plate this season, but his team made the finals.  But it’s not that he didn’t contribute, for us as parents, the biggest part of this was that he was there supporting his team, doing what he could.  My second boy is a sweet boy who just doesn’t care about the sport. That’s a fact.  He goes, he tries but it’s not where his heads at.  That being said, he’s caught a few games this year and even had some solid swings, but if he could be in a swimming pool instead… guess where he’d be?  It’s funny to think about how different my son’s are, but that’s where were at in my house. We've all heard of "The Thrill of Victory & the Agony of Defeat", but in my house, it's reversed... it's "The Agony of Victory" for my second guy, just wished the season was over already and "The Thrill of Defeat" for my oldest, knowing his team almost pulled off their biggest comeback ever... and they're OK with it. I know...it's silly, but that's how it felt this weekend.

Next weekend my second born will battle in the final round of his Little League season with a strong team and a lot of confidence. We'll be there in the stands front and center rooting them on because this is what it all comes down to…the Finals.  No doubt once it’s over, there will be razzing and teasing and bragging rights… but this is little league and it’s like this all around the country.  You get to the finals and you push hard.  In the end, you stand together as a team and think about where you were when you began and where you are right that second.  It’s a life lesson as well.  Pushing, fighting and succeeding…

Congratulations to both of my boys. Watching you play this season was a pretty stressful activity for a dad, but you did me proud with just one week before Father's Day.

And to my Peanut, my second son… good luck in the finals kid! Just 1 more game and then you can enjoy the swimming pool. It's the Agony of Victory for you, I know, but you're almost done...I swear!  

Go get um kid!

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