We don’t live in a competitive world. We live in an over-competitive world. Throw in the unfortunate reality of sports betting and you have a recipe for a troubled society.
It’s not a developing thing. It’s a here-and-now-and-been-here thing.
“Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.”
The words have echoed loudly through generations since first being uttered by UCLA Bruins football coach Red Sanders in 1950. He, not Vince Lombardi, is credited with using the words in a conversation with Los Angeles Herald and Express sports writer Ben Furillo after UCLA lost to arch rival USC in 1949.
Lombardi, the legendary head coach of the Green Bay Packers during the turbulent decade of the 1960s, used the words to motivate his players. They conveyed a sense of urgency in a sport that if you don’t win, you get fired.
But Lombardi, who died in 1970 of cancer, qualified his words, saying: “I meant the effort… I meant having a goal… I sure as hell didn’t mean for people to crush human values and morality.”
Still, the message, though it may not have implicitly conveyed the subtext to the effect that “preparing to win is everything,” reverberates in the ears of those embracing the harsh requirements of competing to achieve victory: Sacrifice. Dedication. Resilience. Stamina. Fearlessness. Pride. They hear the words “Every time you lose, you die a little,” or “Winning is a matter of life or death.”
Rulers and generals from millennia ago probably used similar words before going into battle or facing national crises. “What the ancients called a clever fighter is one who not only wins but excels in winning with ease,” stated Sun Tzu in “The Art of War,” published roughly in the 5th century BC.
The dichotomy of winning and losing has existed since the beginning of time. Or, should I say, after the Fall of man?
In some cultures, one-on-one combat under the category of sport often resulted in deaths. Rather than being a cautionary tale about the dangers of violence in the guise of sport, a black eye to the human race, the collateral damage (if you will) served to glamorize, to romanticize such combat sports.
In the early days of Americanized “football,” a sport derived from rugby, some participants died due to the sheer number of competitors on the field at one time. That prompted President Theodore Roosevelt, a proponent of football, to get involved to save the sport from being abolished. Roosevelt, arguably like countless others, saw the gridiron as a proving ground for the battlefield. The parallels exist still today, as football especially is compared to war. The line of scrimmage is referred to as “the trenches.”
In 1903, Roosevelt told an audience “I believe in rough games and in rough, manly sports. I do not feel any particular sympathy for the person who gets battered about a good deal so long as it is not fatal.”
Football log ago replaced baseball as America’s sport. But, except for[high school football – of which I have always been fond because it involves the youth of our communities – other levels of the sport are too much with us and clutter our lives with needless distractions that keep us from spending quality time with family and friends. If I never watch another college or NFL football game, it will have been time well spent: reading a book, going to a park, reading another book, watching a movie with my wife, or going out for a meal with my grandchildren.
But the consensus trance called entertainment forbids us from exploring our deeper selves, our creative and intellectual selves, the ones that help us transcend the mundane and overcome the trivial pursuits of life.
We have chosen false role models.
They are families, grandparents and uncles and aunts and cousins and brothers and sisters. Generations ago, multi-generational families lived together and contributed to the maintenance of the household. It works wonders with other cultures, but not in pioneer and independent America. We have isolated ourselves from our families and this prideful pursuit of success we are going to do all on our own. This has made people vulnerable to failing when faced with the rejection of strategies to make it probable for success: a position on a team.
Baseball began as a recreational activity as communities healed from the Civil War. Football’s beginning was bloody and deadly. Somehow, it remained and later flourished with rules changes and improved equipment. Still, it is a dangerous sport, and, had the top of football been taken seriously in terms of potential risks for the human body, especially the head and neck areas, it might have been subject to controls.
Football is the boogey man when it comes to cynicism of its worthiness as a sport. It’s a sport that requires 100 percent commitment and dedication by the student-athlete. No pressure from dad (or mom, or big brother). Success comes from a football IQ, versatility (running, sprinting, cutting, turning side to side, firing out low, holding blocks, fighting off blocks, staying close to wide receivers in space, pursuing a play with the help of teammates based on a stunt or just instinct.
Football is also an arrogant sport. The adrenaline it takes to put forth the needed effort means chattering between players on opposite sides of the ball who are hoping to gain the upper hand toward demoralizing the opponent and thereby experiencing success in moving the ball scoring points and winning games.
The degree of disrespect between players and coaches, and, of course, spectators on both sides, makes for a Friday night game (or any other venue for that matter), a discouraging display of inhumanity to man – all in the guise of sports. What is this? City-State rivalries? Let’s bring it back to where it belongs: an athletic endeavor sanctioned by the school the conference and the state. This is where much learning should take place about the concept of teamwork, individual effort, and abiding by rules (especially the ones related to safety). It can be done. It requires morally upright people to do it.
When the game is over, what has been accomplished? What did the winning team do besides score more points? Did it occur to you that the student section was loud and proud? So were those elementary and middle school youngsters walking on the sidelines. Socializing, and cheering. All
told, football Friday is a festive night that includes delicious concession food like chicken corn soup, Kettle kon, pizza, hot dogs, hamburgers, and penny candy.
And what of the cheerleaders and the marching bands? And the teams. And everything it takes to put on a Friday night football game. When it starts, just like that, it’s over.
Take it from me – a grandparent whose granddaughter is a cheerleader. I was there for her last year when she competed on the girls’ track and field team in the high jump. I was proud of her effort and her dedication to learning.
My grandson did quite well for himself on the Waynesboro Braves wrestling team. I hope he makes the seamless transition to the varsity program, which will feature new coaches.
Let’s never forget one important element – an all-pervasive one in light of the myriads of competitive programs playing for bragging rights and legendary status in one level or other.
Keep it family. Learn the value of respect, and why we compete. It’s to learn to compete against like-minded athletes who abide by the rules of the game and their God-given ability against similar athletes. Some will win, some will lose. It’s the lessons learned that will make us better – or worse.
Let’s be better. The world is increasingly becoming a hostile place.
Remember, love is all. A like mind among all athletes, coaches, parents and followers will serve to remind us that it isn’t who wins the game, it’s how the game was played.
The game isn’t the be-all-end-all.
No, it’s the passage of time that relegates us to being one of two kinds of people – the ones who make memories and the ones who try to hold on to them.
