Sports

Kris Jenkins wins it for Villanova at the buzzer.

Sunday marked one month since the Super Bowl, and Monday I finally emerged from under my sports rock.  Since late in the night on February 5, I gave myself a one month ban on sports talk radio and barely watched ESPN except to catch a UGA or UNC basketball game.  I needed to create some separation for myself.  I didn't want to hear about, read about or talk about the improbable comeback.  I'm happy to hear the conversation is now much more about pitchers and catchers.  It's March.  Hope springs eternal for my Braves.

I've had a rough year in sports.  It all started in Houston, but not in the Super Bowl.  It started in at the Final Four at NRG Stadium. My wife is a UNC fan, and we're pretty big Tar Heel Basketball fans.  The stars were aligning last march for the Heels' third National Championship under Roy Williams.  Preseason #1.  Regular season ACC Champs.  ACC Tournament Champs.  And they'd made it to the National Championship, and even hit an improbable 3-pointer to tie it up.  Then Kris Jenkins happened, and Villanova won the greatest NCAA tournament championship ever.

Surely it would get better in the Fall.  My Dawgs had a new coach, started the season with a resounding win in the Chick-fil-a Kickoff vs. UNC (can you say house divided?), featuring our star player's (Nick Chubb) improbable comeback from injury, and thrilling last minute win at Mizzou at the hand of our rising star, freshman QB Jacob Eason.  Against undefeated Tennessee at home, we'd played our best game of the season, trailed late and made a miracle play with 10 seconds left to seemingly secure the biggest home win in several years.  It would be a huge moment for our rookie coach and rookie QB, who had made the (almost) winning pass.  Then the unthinkable happened.

Jauan Jennings makes the game winning catch.

But the Falcons were rolling through the season.  Midway through the year I thought we looked like a Super Bowl contender.  Indeed, we were.  Matt Ryan was the best player in the league, except maybe for his teammate, Julio Jones.  The offense was unstoppable and the defense was maturing.  The playoffs became the ride of the lifetime, and at halftime of the Super Bowl, I couldn't hardly believe my eyes.  We were going to win the Super Bowl.  The loss to 'Nova stung.  The Hail Mary that derailed our season still hurt.  This would give me some momentary sports joy.  Would I get the red, black or gray Super Bowl Champion shirt?  Maybe one of each, or one short sleeve and one long sleeve.  And a hat.  And a pennant for the basement.  And you know what happened.

James White scores the game winning TD in Overtime

In the stadium where the season of my sports discontent started, it ended.  I'd seen my favorites lose the greatest NCAA championship game ever, one of the greatest SEC games ever (Two 40+ yd TD passes in 10 seconds), and the greatest Super Bowl ever (the only one to ever go to overtime.)  I needed a break.

But I can't just give up on sports.  Hope springs eternal, and there are too many lessons.  During my hiatus from sports talk, my boys' basketball seasons marched on.  My youngest was in an instructional league for Kindergarten and 1st graders.  They didn't keep score.  At that age, the kids there were super aggressive kind of took over.  Nothing wrong with that.  The kids were trying to make plays and really got after it on defense.  It was hard for some kids to even get a shot off all season.  In the last couple of games, the referee cleared a path for a few kids who hadn't been able to score all year to get some clear shots.  They were ecstatic when they'd finally made one.  They beamed the whole way back down the court.  That is what sports have really been about in my life.

Sports build confidence and character like few things I know of.  They teach us to keep fighting and working hard.  They teach discipline and effort.  They teach us to respect leaders.  They teach unselfishness.  They teach teamwork.  Few things have shaped my work life and adult life the way sports did.

They also teach dealing with disappointment.  In the movie Fever Pitch, Jimmy Fallon's character, Ben, describes his affection for his beloved Red Sox and their success this way:  "I like being part of something that's bigger than me...It's good for your soul to invest in something you can't control."  And guess what?  Much of our lives we can't control, and we have to learn to get back up and move on when we're disappointed.  Even being a real fan can be positive.  Can we learn to stick with a team or organization through highs and lows or will we be a front-runner fan?  That teaches us something about commitment and relationships.  People will disappoint us.  Will we stick with them?  And isn't success sweeter when we stuck with them for the long haul?

I love art -- music, movies, artwork.  But someone decides what they look like and how they end up.  The artists controls what they create with the skills they spent a lifetime honing.  But sports are unpredictable.  We have no idea what will happen when the game begins, and how hard you worked doesn't always mean you get the results you want, and sometimes you get lucky, and sometimes the ball bounces the wrong way, and sometimes one decision changes the course of the game, and sometimes your preparation meets the perfect opportunity, and sometimes you have to play again after being incredibly disappointed, and sometimes you celebrate a win only to realize there's another game.  Ain't that life?

And the greatest thing about it?  There's always next year, and in your life, there's always tomorrow.  After all, the Heels are looking like they could make another run, the Dawgs are about to start spring practice, and the Braves look like a young, hungry team.  Don't talk to me about NFL free agency.  I'm not ready for the NFL yet.  

I'm still not over it.

At least I'm not a Warriors or Indians fan.  

Justin Spieth and the Art of Losing

We had Sunday evening worship, but I had set my DVR.  I was looking forward to watching the final round of the Master's to close out the weekend Sunday night.  As I saw what was happening scroll across my Twitter feed and as I kept updating the leader board, I knew it would be hard to watch.  I'm no huge golf fan, but I appreciate the majors.  It's when all the stars play, and it offers the highest pressure.  You become a legend at the majors.

Justin Spieth, the reigning Master's champion failed under the pressure Sunday.  It was hard to watch, especially knowing what was coming.  He's only 22.  I felt for him.  He's closer to my son's age than he is to mine.  He is already a two-time major champion, but he experienced what will probably be the most painful loss of his career on Sunday.  Very rarely do you have it in hand and lose it so dramatically.  And what we found is that he is also a champion in the Art of Losing.

Don't get me wrong.  I hate losing.  Hate it.  H-A-T-E it.  Not everyone hates losing, but no one really likes it.  When you're three, you learn quickly to not like it when you don't get your way.  This is your introduction to losing.  Most three year-olds don't handle it well.

And this isn't to say that we ought to become good losers who don't care about winning.  It's absurd to think that handling losing with grace and class means you're a good loser and no longer able to compete.  But all of us have to decide if we are going to master the Art of Losing.  Spieth's post-match interview was awe-inspiring.  He was somber but gracious.  He was hurt but already healing.  I'm impressed by a 22 year-old golfer who took a devastating defeat in stride.  Disappointed, yes...but in stride.  Here's why this is so important -- it won't be his last loss.

Life is losing.  You are constantly losing something:

• Every one of us is losing our youth, daily.
• Parents are slowly losing control and influence over their growing children.
• As we age we are losing our ability to be hired or ability to earn income.
• Sometimes we lose jobs.
• We will all lose loved ones to death.
• We lose relationships and routines when moving.

Yes, life is full of beautiful and joyous victories (like sports) and humbling losses (like sports).  If you do it long enough, you can't avoid the losses.  And we all know people that have handled aging, retirement, becoming empty nesters, death of loved ones and change poorly.  That usually means we haven't masters the Art of Losing.  The Art of Losing really is just about maturity.  It's the realization that I don't always get my way and things don't always go how I predicted or wanted them to go.  I just don't always win.

And this matters greatly in our walk with God.  Jesus said, "For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it" (Matthew 16:15).  If you can't handling losing, you're going to have a hard time following Jesus.  Something tells me Spieth will do alright aging, retiring and dealing with the losses that come with life.  How will we handle it when God asks us to lose for God's purposes?