Over the Christmas holidays, we changed our gym membership from the trusty, go-to YMCA to a private club. Nothing wrong with the Y, but we needed something more. Part of the more was racquetball.
Racquetball by itself is not going to address my fitness goals, but it is a game I learned from my dad. My dad and mom took us to West Courts which at the time was a smallish structure filled with courts, a small weight room, locker rooms, and a lobby that had orange Fanta in the vending machine. (I still associate orange soda with racquetball.) Racquetball is one of the two games I have taught to all three of my sons. The first day AJ was back from college, we played. I won. It was nice. There I was again, showing AJ how to play. A few days later, he had the gall to beat me in one of three games. A few more days later, he somehow won all three games. And so it went for about two weeks.
I was proud. I was demoralized. What? I taught my baby to play....I'm the master. I should always win. (I never beat Dad! Never mind that he was always a much better sportsman and athlete than I have ever been.) Still, I realized that I had, like my dad with me, taught the sport, but also never "let" anyone win. I played down a little, but I always knew the serve that would make sure I won. (AJ can return that serve now!). Thing is, I didn't mind losing; however, in losing more than just those few times, I came to realize the importance of winning. When I did win, it felt good. Really good. An accomplishment.
Pondering this I came back to the current conversations about how everyone on the soccer team gets a trophy even if they only played because league rules insist. And how, as happened with one of AJ's U-6 soccer teams, the coaches talk about what a great season it was and how everyone is a winner for just being out there. 1-10 is not a great season. Catherina who literally sat during a game and picked the flowers on the field did not deserve a trophy. As Lt. Worf asks in an episode of Star Trek: "if winning is not important then why keep score?"
Winning and the fun that comes with winning is important. The rush, the cheering, the real congratulations earned when your side of the scoreboard is heavier than the other team's. The Ravens and the 49ers will tell you today that winning is important. And, even if you're not a sports player or fan, you can win. You can paint the bedroom and win. You can teach a kid to read and win. You can master a recipe and win. You can rake the yard and win. We all have something we can do to win and enjoy the real feeling of real victory. We all need that. Real victory. Yesterday, Nate told me he was awesome because he took his shirt off. I could hear the cringing of every helicopter parent in the world, but my response was, "No. You are not awesome for removing clothing. You are 11 years old. If you want to be awesome, you'll have to save someone's life with that shirt." Nate said okay and went about his way.
Racquetball by itself is not going to address my fitness goals, but it is a game I learned from my dad. My dad and mom took us to West Courts which at the time was a smallish structure filled with courts, a small weight room, locker rooms, and a lobby that had orange Fanta in the vending machine. (I still associate orange soda with racquetball.) Racquetball is one of the two games I have taught to all three of my sons. The first day AJ was back from college, we played. I won. It was nice. There I was again, showing AJ how to play. A few days later, he had the gall to beat me in one of three games. A few more days later, he somehow won all three games. And so it went for about two weeks.
I was proud. I was demoralized. What? I taught my baby to play....I'm the master. I should always win. (I never beat Dad! Never mind that he was always a much better sportsman and athlete than I have ever been.) Still, I realized that I had, like my dad with me, taught the sport, but also never "let" anyone win. I played down a little, but I always knew the serve that would make sure I won. (AJ can return that serve now!). Thing is, I didn't mind losing; however, in losing more than just those few times, I came to realize the importance of winning. When I did win, it felt good. Really good. An accomplishment.
Pondering this I came back to the current conversations about how everyone on the soccer team gets a trophy even if they only played because league rules insist. And how, as happened with one of AJ's U-6 soccer teams, the coaches talk about what a great season it was and how everyone is a winner for just being out there. 1-10 is not a great season. Catherina who literally sat during a game and picked the flowers on the field did not deserve a trophy. As Lt. Worf asks in an episode of Star Trek: "if winning is not important then why keep score?"
Winning and the fun that comes with winning is important. The rush, the cheering, the real congratulations earned when your side of the scoreboard is heavier than the other team's. The Ravens and the 49ers will tell you today that winning is important. And, even if you're not a sports player or fan, you can win. You can paint the bedroom and win. You can teach a kid to read and win. You can master a recipe and win. You can rake the yard and win. We all have something we can do to win and enjoy the real feeling of real victory. We all need that. Real victory. Yesterday, Nate told me he was awesome because he took his shirt off. I could hear the cringing of every helicopter parent in the world, but my response was, "No. You are not awesome for removing clothing. You are 11 years old. If you want to be awesome, you'll have to save someone's life with that shirt." Nate said okay and went about his way.
Not everything we do is winning or awesome, but everyone has something to accomplish. A real something that will be a real victory in the end. I don't care who wins Super Bowl today. I'm more concerned about the fact that Charley just might beat me at our weekly racquetball game. I'm also hoping that we all can find something real to win and get that real thrill of victory. AJ had it this week when he maxed sit-ups on the APFT. Whoever wins the big game today will have it. And, all those years ago at West Courts, when my dad was playing racquetball with an awkward, unathletic daughter, he was winning. For real.
