And then I watched as his best friend crossed the field. His best friend who played on the opposing team. His hand held up for a high five, he said to my son, "Good game!" to which my son responded, "Yeah, thanks. Sorry you had to lose, though. Losing's not so fun." They grinned together, friends who understood.
And suddenly I understood. My little-league player understood how it felt to lose, having lost so many games so far. He understood, better than most probably, how his friend felt being on the losing team this time around. "It was sort of weird. I was happy for me, but sad for him."
30 years later, I am watching grandsons play the game. All of them posses athletic gifts like their fathers. All of them hit home runs and strike out. They make great plays and sometimes not so good plays. They have wins. They have losses. The losses hurt. And their dads wisely remind them that it's good to win games but losing is good too, sometimes. It teaches us compassion. And to work hard towards improvement. And to have a good heart.
It's good to win games. But it's better to have a good heart.
