1,000 Words

My little brother, Joe, has always believed that second place was nothing more than first loser. Needless to say, he takes his sports competitions seriously. On numerous occasions, his reactions to a loss were out of proportion to the event itself and sportsmanship was nowhere on the radar. (I love you, Joe; but, you know it's true!) Apparently, this genetic trait, lying somewhere dormant in me, was passed on to my oldest son. We have watched more than one game where Carson has let his emotions take over, where we have had to threaten not to let him play anymore until he can be a more graceful loser, and where we have had to remind him that you can't win them all. It has been a constant struggle for us as parents to navigate these emotions and to teach our son to channel them appropriately.

The other day, I opened up a file of pictures that had been sent to me by one of the parents on our soccer team last fall. This picture was taken after the team endured a particularly difficult loss. Carson finished the game red-faced both from playing hard and from being mad. He was holding back tears as Farrel quietly reminded him to remember what was important. It is one of the most poignant pictures of my children that anyone has ever snapped and it captures a whole story in the one little frame.