In life, there are winners and losers. That is just the way it is. You learn at a very young age that you learn the rules, play to the best of your ability and hope that the results are in your favor. This applies to all aspects of life. Some people begin careers that are successful and others have a hard time keeping a job. It has nothing to do with whether or not you are a good person, it really just boils down to luck. There are plenty of really not nice people that do really well and even more really nice people who can’t make ends meet. That is just the way the cookie crumbles and you learn to move on. All you can do is hope for the best.
When it comes to sports, and if you have learned anything about me over the past three years of me writing this column, everything comes down to sports, there is a team that wins and a team that loses. We have the Mets, we recently had the Panthers heartbreaking Super Bowl loss…there were definite winners and definite it’s-time-to-play-golf losers. Clear as day. There is never a parade for second best.
As a hockey mom (yes, I know “Jew Hockey” isn’t real hockey, but with the number of games and practices that I have attended over the past 10 years, it has become a real sport by default) I have been the proud mom of champions and the equally proud mom of losers. Any goalie mom will tell you that we feel responsible if the team loses, even if our kid is the back-up goalie. When your kid plays offense or defense, and please don’t ask me which of my sons plays which because I have absolutely no idea, you don’t feel as responsible because he is part of a group of players that feed off of each other. My son’s coach gives his team the same speech every year: Look at the championship banner hanging on the wall—do you know who played first line? Who sat on the bench? No, because they were a team and everyone was a part of it. It happens to be a really great speech and makes a lot of sense, but the winners are the ones hanging on the wall. Who did they beat? Who knows.
As I write this, son #2 and his undefeated varsity hockey team are headed to the championships. I didn’t want to wait to see how the season ends because, in my heart, these boys are winners. I have watched them grow from teeny freshman with no hope of growing a playoff beard, to handsome seniors, who still have some trouble growing a playoff beard (though not all of them, some have reached lumberjack facial hair status) and I have enjoyed every minute. The smells they have brought into my house, the water bottles they have left all over the place…I love these boys and I am so proud of all of them, no matter what the end result is. They love and respect each other, and their coach always emphasizes taking the high road. If a player from another team insists on being a little too aggressive, our coach speaks to the “victim” of aggression and makes him take a step back and a deep breath before going back out on the non-ice-y surface. I know these things because I and my hockey mom pals are always in the front row and we hear what goes on. These are wonderful life lessons. But in the end, they will either win or lose.
Now also as I write this, an enigma of the middle school hockey world has just occurred. Two teams played in the championships and it ended in a tie. The game was almost three hours long and I heard that the gym was really hot, the boys were really exhausted and there might have been some passing out. Now, again, I was not there, but I am wondering why there wasn’t a shootout. In any event, both teams were declared champions. Hey guys—there are no ties in life. We need a winner! I am hoping that there will be a rematch because I am sure that all of these boys want closure…that’s funny, do boys even know what closure is? I need closure…every parent on both teams wants closure. Sure it is all warm and fuzzy if everyone is a winner, but that is not how the game is played. Though wouldn’t it be nice if it were?
Good luck to whoever needs to make that decision and good luck to son #2 and his amazing team. Whatever happened last Sunday, you boys are so awesome and I love each and every one of you.
By Banji Latkin Ganchrow
Banji Ganchrow cannot believe that she just sent in a deposit for son #2’s year in Israel. She also cannot believe how much she is going to miss all of his friends and the hotel she has been running for the past four years. And though son #2 will be upset with her, she plans on mentioning their names in a future article.
