Sometimes A Loss Is A Win

I would not say the Golden Eagles have played great basketball this season. We have won seven games and lost three close games, but we haven't played with confidence, passion, determination, or desire. We have been on the court and put in our minutes, but we have yet to play with the reckless abandon which creates the sense of fun and adventure a game should have. We've played uptight, worried, frightened, and intimidated.

Yet, all this time we've felt a sense of something more--something greater than what has transpired. It is like a thought which gets lost on the tip of the brain, sitting there just out of grasp. The thought is so close but just out of reach of culminating into words. This has been the essence of the Eagles--talented, strong, intelligent, and well-versed in the game--yet playing without the belief in ourselves. So close to being great yet so far.

As a coach, it is has been frustrating to recognize the abilities of the players only to see them not utilize their strengths on the court. Of course, the more I have become frustrated and pushed them, the worse they have become. Yet as a coach, it is difficult for me to stand by without trying to make things better. It is as if I'm standing in front of a door with a ring of keys, and I know one of those keys opens the door. Do I quit after trying six keys? Seven? Ten? I'm not the kind of person who quits, so I keep pushing and they keep pushing.

Then it happened. Finally. In the game against the University of the Cumberlands which we lost 67-68, we began to play--to let loose, to allow the flow of the game to come through us. It didn't happen until the second half, but it happened. It was beautiful watching the Golden Eagles allow themselves to play--to make mistakes, to try without fear of failure, to put themselves on the line, to play to win instead of playing not to lose.

It was the first time we had fun--the real fun of competing where we were all together as one, beating with one heart, playing as if we were one body all connected. It was a turning point--the place where we felt deflated after the game, being so close to playing well and winning, yet feeling good about the level of play. After the game, I was full of joy, happy, flowing with kind words and hugs. I knew we had changed and evolved even if the scoreboard didn't reflect our victory.

When we came back together to practice the next day, it was a new team--a different team. The talent was shining through them; they were connected now in a way they had not been in the past. Perhaps we will lose a game or two in the future, but it will be different. It will be with a unit of players, confident and playing as one defeated only by a team who was better that day--not beating ourselves.