Imagine, if you will....and if you won't, well just sit there, then...be uncooperative and ornery....a group of sixty or so 7th grade boys. A football team of boys. Imagine this same team going an entire regular season...8 games...without a win. Not one win and this team was beaten decidedly nearly every game. Early morning workouts, spring conditioning, summer practices, after school practices....but Victory proves elusive. Parents begin to wonder if it's the coaches. Some begin to question the coaches...discretion and tact not being at the forefront of every parents' mind. Week in, week out...loss after loss. The season ends and despite the pitiful record, many of the boys voice their intent to return.
The months pass quickly...February rolls around and the 6AM optional work outs start. Mostly weight lifting and strength training. New faces show up but quickly disappear when it apparent that this is not a social hour. February, March, April....spring conditioning. Again. Growth spurts have become evident in some of the boys...they are comical sights trying to figure out what to do with the extra length and girth that they've acquired. A little faster, a little stronger, a little wiser. Spring conditioning gives way to summer workouts and the thought of this proves too much for some and the roster dwindles. Summer workouts aren't mandatory, so hope remains for a few key players to return as the start of school approaches. But when a few of these boys do return for August practice, there is the question of who deserves to start? Do the ones who have put in the work and the time over the summer and have the blisters, sun tanned arms, sweat stained t-shirts and bottles of empty odor eliminating spray rattling around in the family truckster get passed over for the ones who are just two or three seconds faster but couldn't/wouldn't come to summer practice? The answer to that question lies with the coaches and it is always the hope that they will do what is right.
This same team....lacking in both quantity and depth of talent...is now in 8th grade. They are an impressive sight on game day in their team shirts....classical illustrations of the all-American jock. More comfortable with who they are...some days...more comfortable with each other...some days. Can they pull it together...can they pull together, because that's what it's going to take. Pulling together to pull it off.. Can they let go of last year's dismal record and block the whispering voice of Self Doubt? The first few games of the regular season are against teams that are the toughest in the metro area and while coming close...showing flashes of brilliance and promise...Victory still escapes. It becomes a battle of the wills...the actual football game is almost of no count. It would seem that the players and the coaches have lost heart. Critical voices are heard far and above those that are hopeful, making it seem as though the critics outnumber the optimists...but they don't....they are just louder, obnoxiously so. There are murmurings of boys wanting to quit and not finish the season because the weight of the losses from the current season is too much to bear...jumping on the pile with ghost of last year's season. The rides home are quiet and in desperation for something positive to say, many Mamas point out how nice the boys look in their away-game uniforms. Not much comfort to be found in looking good when losing.
Finally....a home game after being away for two consecutive weeks. One of the defensive coaches has a more acute personal interest in this game...his girlfriend is from the rival school system and bragging rights are on the line. He promises a pizza to each of the defensive linemen if they can pull of the win. Teen aged boys...pizza? It's like he can speak their language or something! They roar onto the field full of life and fire...and manage to score fourteen unanswered points. At half time, there is a hopeful buzz in the air....just loud enough to drown out the mocking laughter of the a giant named Defeat. Only, he doesn't seem so big, any more. He seems conquerable and Victory doesn't seem to be playing quite so hard to get. A biblical sized bolt of lightning flashes and the sky seems to unzip, pouring down the rain. After a thirty minute delay, in the safety of the school gym, it is announced that the game will be finished the following Monday afternoon; the score, 14-6. Four days of waiting. Four days of wondering. Four very LONG days.
Game Day part two arrives and more rain is forecasted. Many prayers hit the heavens, pleading for clear weather, safe weather and selfishly, for the win. There's no way to learn how to take the bitter pill of a loss without actually losing now and then....but we've lost now and we've lost then and these boys have become all to familiar with the posture of Defeat. The rain rolls in and many begin to wonder what will happen if they have to delay THIS game? Will the officials just call it...with about 15 minutes left to the game...at a score of 14-6? Will it still feel like a Victory? All they need is thirty minutes....thirty good minutes....thirty minutes of good effort...thirty minutes of unhindered weather. Thirty minutes, LORD...just thirty minutes....thirty minutes and the win? Please? Oh, please!!!!! Somewhere, behind all the pleading and near shameless begging is a still small voice saying, "Peace, child! You're wearing me out! I heard you...I got this!"
Both teams take the field and the score becomes 14-8. Then the brave boys in blue answer back...21-8. The clock ticks....4th quarter! Eight minutes left. Eight minutes...not very long or just long enough? The guests score...21-16...that dratted 2 point conversion! Time keeps ticking...and the score changes again...28-16. There seems to be a collective inhale from those gathered to support the home team. Could it be? Is this it? At 0:00, the final score is 28-16 and Victory is welcomed amid whistles, hoots, chest bumps, helmet slaps and the happy tears of a few die-hard football Mamas. The Giant named Defeat...well...he's not laughing anymore...in fact...he's nowhere to be found.
Y1 came out of practice last night with his pizza box in hand...grinning like he'd been given year long "no homework" pass. "W"=win...and on our stat sheet, the "W" column is no longer lonely. The power of this single "W" lies in the fact that just when it looked like Hope was lost and that Defeat would have the last laugh, these boys dug down deep and found the determination and drive and pulled together to pull it off. The power of this "W" might just be the answer to the rest of the season.
The months pass quickly...February rolls around and the 6AM optional work outs start. Mostly weight lifting and strength training. New faces show up but quickly disappear when it apparent that this is not a social hour. February, March, April....spring conditioning. Again. Growth spurts have become evident in some of the boys...they are comical sights trying to figure out what to do with the extra length and girth that they've acquired. A little faster, a little stronger, a little wiser. Spring conditioning gives way to summer workouts and the thought of this proves too much for some and the roster dwindles. Summer workouts aren't mandatory, so hope remains for a few key players to return as the start of school approaches. But when a few of these boys do return for August practice, there is the question of who deserves to start? Do the ones who have put in the work and the time over the summer and have the blisters, sun tanned arms, sweat stained t-shirts and bottles of empty odor eliminating spray rattling around in the family truckster get passed over for the ones who are just two or three seconds faster but couldn't/wouldn't come to summer practice? The answer to that question lies with the coaches and it is always the hope that they will do what is right.
This same team....lacking in both quantity and depth of talent...is now in 8th grade. They are an impressive sight on game day in their team shirts....classical illustrations of the all-American jock. More comfortable with who they are...some days...more comfortable with each other...some days. Can they pull it together...can they pull together, because that's what it's going to take. Pulling together to pull it off.. Can they let go of last year's dismal record and block the whispering voice of Self Doubt? The first few games of the regular season are against teams that are the toughest in the metro area and while coming close...showing flashes of brilliance and promise...Victory still escapes. It becomes a battle of the wills...the actual football game is almost of no count. It would seem that the players and the coaches have lost heart. Critical voices are heard far and above those that are hopeful, making it seem as though the critics outnumber the optimists...but they don't....they are just louder, obnoxiously so. There are murmurings of boys wanting to quit and not finish the season because the weight of the losses from the current season is too much to bear...jumping on the pile with ghost of last year's season. The rides home are quiet and in desperation for something positive to say, many Mamas point out how nice the boys look in their away-game uniforms. Not much comfort to be found in looking good when losing.
Finally....a home game after being away for two consecutive weeks. One of the defensive coaches has a more acute personal interest in this game...his girlfriend is from the rival school system and bragging rights are on the line. He promises a pizza to each of the defensive linemen if they can pull of the win. Teen aged boys...pizza? It's like he can speak their language or something! They roar onto the field full of life and fire...and manage to score fourteen unanswered points. At half time, there is a hopeful buzz in the air....just loud enough to drown out the mocking laughter of the a giant named Defeat. Only, he doesn't seem so big, any more. He seems conquerable and Victory doesn't seem to be playing quite so hard to get. A biblical sized bolt of lightning flashes and the sky seems to unzip, pouring down the rain. After a thirty minute delay, in the safety of the school gym, it is announced that the game will be finished the following Monday afternoon; the score, 14-6. Four days of waiting. Four days of wondering. Four very LONG days.
Game Day part two arrives and more rain is forecasted. Many prayers hit the heavens, pleading for clear weather, safe weather and selfishly, for the win. There's no way to learn how to take the bitter pill of a loss without actually losing now and then....but we've lost now and we've lost then and these boys have become all to familiar with the posture of Defeat. The rain rolls in and many begin to wonder what will happen if they have to delay THIS game? Will the officials just call it...with about 15 minutes left to the game...at a score of 14-6? Will it still feel like a Victory? All they need is thirty minutes....thirty good minutes....thirty minutes of good effort...thirty minutes of unhindered weather. Thirty minutes, LORD...just thirty minutes....thirty minutes and the win? Please? Oh, please!!!!! Somewhere, behind all the pleading and near shameless begging is a still small voice saying, "Peace, child! You're wearing me out! I heard you...I got this!"
Both teams take the field and the score becomes 14-8. Then the brave boys in blue answer back...21-8. The clock ticks....4th quarter! Eight minutes left. Eight minutes...not very long or just long enough? The guests score...21-16...that dratted 2 point conversion! Time keeps ticking...and the score changes again...28-16. There seems to be a collective inhale from those gathered to support the home team. Could it be? Is this it? At 0:00, the final score is 28-16 and Victory is welcomed amid whistles, hoots, chest bumps, helmet slaps and the happy tears of a few die-hard football Mamas. The Giant named Defeat...well...he's not laughing anymore...in fact...he's nowhere to be found.
Y1 came out of practice last night with his pizza box in hand...grinning like he'd been given year long "no homework" pass. "W"=win...and on our stat sheet, the "W" column is no longer lonely. The power of this single "W" lies in the fact that just when it looked like Hope was lost and that Defeat would have the last laugh, these boys dug down deep and found the determination and drive and pulled together to pull it off. The power of this "W" might just be the answer to the rest of the season.
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