My ten-year-old son played in a football championship game over the weekend. A game I’m thrilled to say we won—our first undefeated season. After a trophy ceremony on the sideline with pictures galore, we climbed into our vehicles to attend a banquet in the team’s honor.
On the drive over, I noticed my son was surprisingly subdued. With a lot of coaxing, he finally said, “I didn’t play very well. I never sacked the quarterback once.” As the nose-tackle, it was something he had become accustomed to doing in every game leading up to this one.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. While slamming with all his might, play after play into the offensive line, he hadn’t realized what was happening around him. The double teaming strategy they used against my son to keep him out of the backfield opened up holes for his teammates. The linebackers had a field day, sacking the quarterback and stopping offensive plays in the backfield instead.
It’s a problem of perception we all deal with. When our trials are close, towering in our faces, it’s hard to see the value gained from the struggle. It often takes an outsider, or an occasional mommy, to help you see what you have accomplished.
This is true for me as well. Sometimes I wonder if all the hours spent at this blasted computer typing…deleting…typing again will ever payoff. Then someone will tell me how much a blog I wrote was exactly what they needed to hear. And viola! There you have it—victory enough to keep me moving forward.