Janelle Evans

In sports, there’s more to losing than just numbers on a scoreboard.  It does something to the players themselves.  And if players experience enough repeated shellackings, the necessary inner believe in oneself needed for winning can be completely stripped away.  This is where my oldest son’s football team found themselves this week.  After nearly a month of nothing but losses, really, really bad losses, they were down three touchdowns and only five minutes left in the fourth quarter.

I couldn’t bare it anymore.  The indifferent attitude of the players and the parents saying things like “Good try” when they weren’t trying at all had the overly competitive person I used to be as a kid ready to rear its ugly head.  I’ve kept that negative side me bottled up for so many years now it would have been awful if I had let it loose.  And don’t misunderstand—my son would have gotten the brunt of it since he was playing like crap as well.

With four minutes left, one of our boys returns a kick-off for a touchdown.  Then, less than a minute later, they recovered a fumble and ran that in for a touchdown.  The lift in mood out on the field was so palpable the boys glowed brighter than the stadium lights.  Finally, they believed.  Playing far more intense than they had the entire game, they recovered another fumble.  And what do you know—they managed to get another touchdown, taking the lead by running into the end zone for the extra point.

We not only shocked that team, we shocked ourselves, which only proves how vital a positive mindset is. The boys were always capable of winning.  Their attitudes kept getting in the way.  Here’s hoping they bring that miraculous mental change to the next game.

This past month my oldest son started another football season in not only a new town but a new state, which of course puts us on a completely new team.  And I’m struggling.  “Traitor, traitor, traitor,” my head chants every time I give a cheer or shout of encouragement.  The kids seem nice, even the parents are fine.  It’s just not the same.  And I know it’s not their fault.  The camaraderie we felt for our past team came from playing six seasons together.  Yet, my heart still wants what I once had.  My son is missing his old teammates too.  Assimilating into a new group of boys is hard, especially when they’ve all grown up together and you’re the new guy from out of town.

I’m sure each of us have either faced this dilemma or will in the future, since the only thing constant and guaranteed in this life is change.  We can’t go back.  We must forge ahead.  That’s why it’s important to recognize and appreciate those special moments as they happen.  There’s a good chance they might not last forever.

Life is like a roller coaster. Sometimes we’re up.  Sometimes we’re down.  Sometimes so many things crash upon us it feels as if we’re thrown for a loop.  It’s not these up and downs or even the loops that frustrate me.  It’s wishing I could see the track ahead.  Wouldn’t the downs or hard times in life be so much easier to deal with if you could see when it would end?  If I knew I would only have to suffer an “X” amount of days.  Or even better, know that the track I’m on is the right one for me.

Deep down inside, I know being able to see my future would actually hinder my growth.  The gut clenching, character building hardships we endure wouldn’t be nearly as impressive if we knew we would succeed.  And what if it was failure at the end?  Would we even bother to try?

Yes, though frustrating, ignorance is needed.  It’s what put me on this particular coaster in the first place.  Learning to shake off the downs is key.  For me it’s called having a therapy session with a carton of ice cream.  Works every time.  Now if only the guilt wouldn’t creep in later.

Every summer, year after year, I’ve work with my nearly eleven-year-old son on swimming.  Stuck with a swim teacher for a mommy he really didn’t have a choice.  For a long time his stroke technique was not the best.  Okay, it was awful.  The boy just could not get it.  His front crawl looked like a flailing windmill, spitting water in every direction as it chugged over the surface.  (Oh, the headaches I’ve had.)  And without fail, at the beginning of summer we have the same conversation (battle).

“I don’t want to do swim lessons,” he says with his arms crossed while I lube on his sunscreen.  “I don’t like it.  It’s too hard.  I’m just not a swimmer.”

“Son, I’m not saying you have to join the swim team,” I reason with him, “but knowing how to swim correctly is important.”  Or at least look like you’re not in the middle of drowning.

“Mom, I can’t do it.”

Most give up with that kind of thinking, but once again he’s stuck with me and I wouldn’t let him.  I’m so glad I didn’t too.  It took almost eleven years, but finally, finally, all those years of teaching sunk into that body of his and whoosh, he took off.  I’m completely blown away by his improved technique, especially with his breast stroke.  Maybe I will be pushing him to join the swim team after all.

Trying new things, expanding our experiences is always a good thing, even if at first some of those things don’t come naturally.  Having to work hard at something doesn’t necessarily make it the wrong choice for you.  It’s the challenges you have to persevere through you often appreciate the most.

With sweaty palms and a shaky voice, I stood at a pulpit this week speaking to the city council.  The complicated and drawn-out reasons why aren’t important, but I went there with a deep, down-in-the-gut feeling that this needed to be done.  I knew the chances of it going well weren’t good.  Nobody likes to hear they’re doing something wrong, and change doesn’t happen until mistakes are acknowledged.  But there I stood anyway.  Somebody had to, and I was tired of waiting around to see if anybody else would.

Have you ever done that, known something was wrong but held your tongue because you were afraid of the backlash you might receive?  I imagine most of us have.  It’s so much easier to go with the flow than stand up for what you know to be true, especially when you’ll be the only one standing.

I have no idea if things will change, their lack of enthusiasm when I finished doesn’t bode well in my favor, but they can no longer hide behind the guise of omission.  I made my voice heard, and though it was hard, I no longer carry the guilt I did while I stayed silent.

Never fear to do the right thing, even if you have to do it alone.  You’ll live a life less riddled with regret.  Isn’t that incentive enough?

Everybody has bad days.  You know the kind, when nothing seems to go right, and each blow as the day wears on drags you closer and closer to tearing your hair out.  Well…my computer, filled with its dozens of children stories and full length novels, crashed, crashed, crashed this week.

At 3am it popped out of nowhere, the blue screen from hell, and nothing I did would make it leave.  Was everything, everything I’d ever written lost forever?  Unable to do anything but freak out, I decided waking my husband from his much deserved sleep was the only option.  He couldn’t fix it either!  Right about now the bile had risen right to the back of my throat.  If my perfect, superhuman husband, couldn’t fix it who could?

My husband pulled my hyperventilating self back to bed and forced me to lie down.  “Just go to sleep.  It’s not going anywhere, and you’ll be able to think clearer once you calm down.”

Psk, I thought, but eventually my shuddering body and tears gave way to sleep.  When I woke a few hours later an idea came to mind, it was something I had been shown once by a tech geek but had never tried.  It worked!  The sneaky back door on the computer allowed me enough access to extract all of my stories.  Yep, the computer is a complete loss, but I can breathe knowing I haven’t lost everything.

So what did I learn from all of this?  When the going gets tough, take a nap.  Okay, so it wasn’t necessarily the nap that made everything better, but sometimes the only thing you can do for those bad days is step away. A perspective filled with clarity is difficult to acheive in the heat of the moment.  And now, I’m loving the library until my new computer comes.