I was playing the card game “Go Fish” with my four and a half-year-old grandson the other day when he said, “It’s OK not to win, isn’t it?”
That was a bit of a surprise, as in the last six months or so he’s found a way to turn every possible kind of play into a game that has a score and a winner. Plus, he’s been quite skilled at setting the rules, and resetting them, to favor himself.
So clearly I was surprised when he came up with the question about not having to win.
Was some part of his parental unit trying to teach him about winning and losing? Has a teacher or a coach said something to him? Just what was going on here.?
And what should I tell him?
Growing up, winning at any and all games was crucial to me, whether it was a Monopoly game, playing ping pong, participating in a Little League baseball game, or attending a Red Sox game with my wonderful grandfather. I was so intense at all competition that a loss would frequently end in tears. I was so focused on winning that one year my parents almost didn’t let me return to the summer camp I attended in New Hampshire because I came home following two days of “Color War” not able to speak a complete sentence. (I stammered growing up and the intensity with which I approached two days of camp rivalry always resulted in the worsening of my stammer.)
Further Digression: I was so intense that according to my counselor, I got up one night after the opening day of “Color War” and in my sleep, walked all the way across the camp to the leader of my team and told him “Don’t worry. We’ll beat them tomorrow.” I then returned to my bunk and continued sleeping.
It has taken me years to learn to accept losing, and I still don’t do it too well.
Particularly when it involves my Red Sox.
In fact, my wife Ellen said the other day she knew the Sox must have been losing a few games because I was so grumpy.
She’s right, but don’t tell her.
While I am less competitive in most aspects of my life now than I was for most of my previous 70 years, that doesn’t seem to apply to watching, listening to, or attending a Sox game.
Former Nats’ GM Jim Bowden, according to my friend Dave E., once said, “Baseball is more fun when you score more runs than the other team.”
That’s definitely true for me when I watch a Nats’ game (an adopted team that I follow because I made the mistake (good decision?) of not settling in Boston. It’s more fun to watch when the Nats win. When they lose, it’s a bummer. But it’s not like a Sox loss.
A more accurate statement for me than Bowdens’ would be something like, “It’s excruciatingly painful when the Sox don’t score more runs than the other team.” I just came across this good article by a Ted D. Smith about how baseball will always break your heart. He writes, “The more you love the game, the worse the pain will be.”
But to return to my ‘playing games’ with my grandson and what I should teach him. I’m not sure I want to do to him what I did to my younger daughter (“I Blame You”).
I’m in the early stages of introducing him to Major League baseball, and he was not happy when the Nats lost the game we attended a few weeks ago.
Thanks to some good advice from MillersTime readers (see “A Dilemma Resolved”), I am doing my best at not trying to turn him into a Sox obsessive. It’s probably a good thing that I mostly take him to Nats’ games, and he doesn’t see what happens to me when the Sox lose.
But seriously, what is the best message to give?
Try to win, always?
If you’ve done your best, then the winning isn’t all?
It’s OK to lose?
You don’t have to win?
Of course we are talking here about more than just baseball.
Should I reinforce his “It’s OK not to win”?
I don’t believe that, of course.
But I also don’t want to saddle him with the pain I’ve felt over the years at losing.
Maybe I should just nod my head (in agreement) when he talks about “not having to win”.
Maybe I should learn from him.
I welcome your advice.
janet brownsister said:
Interesting dilemma!
I think you should use your own scale as you taught me.
On a range of 1-10, how important is this challenge?
We can certainly lose card games and school yard game and contests, but as you grow the challenges are more intense so one needs to be braced for losses.
It has to be told him it is alright and not a bad thing, if one loses, depending on the stakes and the depth of your passion for the event.
You are a great one to teach him how to be gracious even though passionate about losing.
He’s such a smart, sweet, privileged little guy!
Let’s hope he ends up with more wins than losses.
Lydia said:
I like Janet’s approach. Or you could do the lawyer/psychologist approach and just say: “maybe,” and cock your head to the side and wait for him to respond. :)
Micah Sifry said:
I have multiple responses. Games can be about endless play, not just about winning. And to the extent that winning also implies beating someone else, if you play games you also have to learn how to lose with grace. We don’t do this all that well in Western society, do we?
That said, learning to work hard to achieve things that matter is also quite important, and if we taught our kids that outcomes don’t matter, maybe they wouldn’t achieve anything important.
I think what I would tell a four-and-a-half year old is that it’s ok to lose, because you can’t win every time–and that you can have fun either way.
At the summer camp where our kids went (and now work), they have competitive sports, but the semi-serious joke answer when you ask what the score is: “It’s fun against fun, and fun is winning!” (Which is followed by, “the best score is a tie.”)
Jackie said:
Learn from him. When we let go of the obsessive need to win, playing a game can really be play. It can relax and invigorate us. So, I plan to learn from the grandkinder, and hope you do so too.
Land said:
One response might be “This is not an easy question for me to answer. If I am playing a game, because it is a game then I know that I cannot always win. That is why it is called a game because either side can win. If one side always one, that would be boring and no one would ever play.
Because I like playing games and having fun with people, I play anyway
even though I know that sometimes I will lose. If I lose, I can always play another game.
I always play hard and try to win but I play just because I enjoy playing. I don’t like losing but it doesn’t bother me too much as long as I tried my best and had fun. I know that I can’t win every time but as long as I tried my best, even if I lose I am kinda happy. Maybe not as happy as I would be if I won, but still happy.
You cannot win every game every time time because other people are also good at playing games. If you are playing a game and have tried your best and you still lose, then you have done what the game expects you to do and you can be proud of how hard you tried.
Besides, if one person or one side doesn”t wins a game, it could go on forever and playing the game would become boring. Wining just means that one person was ahead when the game was over but that does not mean the loser is no good. It just means the game is over.
Does this make sense? Did you understand what I said”? What do you think?
Keith Brennan said:
I agree with Jackie! In terms of the larger than games life issues, I have both won and lost and I have to say I have learned more from my losses than my wins. One never sets out to lose but accepting and learning from one’s losses is the pathway to true wisdom.
Bill Plitt said:
Sounds like he is a very astute young man. The fact that He is raising the question gives me hope. He already has a moral sense of what’s right for him, I believe. He’ll figure it out just like his Grandpa did. As for your response, I think telling him about your journey as you did in this sweet and wonderful post would be more than adequate.
I envy the relationship you are building with your grandson, and look forward to some times like that with my grandchildren.
Thanks for the story,
BiLL
P.S I hate to lose. All that stuff about shaking hands after a tennis match or volleyball game when you lose, that’s for the birds. I kind of like it when I win, however. B.
Todd Endo said:
Lots of thoughts! Just as your question seems to have generated lots of answers. This is a perennial question, which is about lots more than sports and games.
One of my wife’s great characteristics is that she initiates games and activities, in which she is sure to lose. She plays a multiple solitaire game called Pounce, in which her goal is not to finish last. Similarly in running races, her goal is not to finish last. I’ve written at least a title for an article–The Art of Doing Things Badly.
I was never a good long distance runner, but ran some 10ks beginning in my 40s. I never paid attention to where I finished—never first. But, I did pay attention to whether I set a new personal record.
In college, I had many discussions with other varsity athletes, in which I claimed that the best athletic team experience I ever had was on a basketball team that won a little less than half its games. But without teamwork and a full court press, our height challenged team might not have won a game. We did better than we could reasonably expect ourselves to do.
As a youth soccer coach, I would tell the players that the most their parents could expect from them is that they tried your hardest; the most they could expect of themselves is that they played the best that they could. If they’ve done both of these, then may the better team (on that day) win.
My two sons and I have gone through our dozens of soccer trophies and kept only three. The similarities are that we saved the first tournament champ trophy and the most significant wins. We don’t remember most of the others.
In another arena, when I was in the Fairfax schools, one day I read that Montgomery County had higher SAT scores that year than Fairfax. I prepared for the superintendent’s quip as he walked into his office that morning—“Beat Montgomery County! How do we beat Montgomery County?” I caught his interest by telling him that I knew how we could accomplish that. I said that we encourage all students to take the SATs, so if we really thought it was important to beat Montgomery County, we could discourage marginal students from taking the SATs. That settled the issue about the ultimate importance of winning.
The theme that runs through my rambling is that the important things in sports, games, and life are (in whatever you think is important) to try your best, do the best that you can, maintain a passion for the doing. My sons continue to play a high level of soccer into their 40s. I’m pleased that two average youth soccer players I coached continue to play in their 40s and tell me about their positive memories of playing youth soccer. As I watch my grandkids play rec and travel soccer, I hope that they continue to find enjoyment in playing and find a challenging enough level to encourage their personal improvement.
Todd Endo