So I'm home from Chicago and the AVCA Spring Convention and Men's Volleyball Final Four. I learned some new stuff--technically and in regards to psychology and communication, which is good. I worry that at some point I'll go to a convention and learn nothing or worse still, have no motivation to learn.
In any event, Loyola showed that yes, indeed, they deserved to be #1 in the country by beating Stanford in the championship Saturday evening. It was a good match. Loyola's short middle with the beard hit well (unlike on Thursday) while their hitter, Jaeschke, had a good night (or so it seemed from the stands). All night, Loyola kept USC off balance and the Trojan hitters were just plain ineffective, and Stanford's setter (who was freakin' amazing--setting a '4' with one hand? Really? Setting above the antennae? Really?...probably helps to have a quality coach for a father, too).
And then Loyola crushed USC in the fourth game. Played at Loyola, the crowd went wild (in a good way), and then I left--I couldn't bear to watch the awards ceremony. I've found I dislike awards ceremonies in general for champions. It's not actually the pomp or anything like that, and it isn't just volleyball. I turn off March Madness before the awards. Heck--I even turned off the Iowa State games this year as soon as they won.
And I realize why--I love winning, but I'm 40+ now. And I hate losing, and I empathize with all of those athletes who don't quite make it, fall just short for all the work that got put in. Watching Shaw put his hands behind his head, stand and wait to shake hands--that's painful. To see Stanford's team waiting while the awards ceremony was being set up, forced to stay calm--painful (and classy on Stanford's part...I've seen teams act like jerks before).
When Iowa State won their first game of the tourney this year, you know what stuck with me? It wasn't State and how they played, it was the opposing coach hugging his two seniors--the ones who kept the game close, left it all out on the court.
It's why losing in the Regional in 2010 for us hurt--because most of the sophomores I had gave it their all. That damned last point. That damned net. 0.1 inches higher or lower and we go to nationals. It's why 2000 hurt at Satan's School...we put it on the court and had Bobbi Mattingly screw us over intentionally.
And I see those kids who are done--no NBA careers for them, no million-dollar contracts, and I understand the emotion of it. It hurts--I feel it.
I even feel it for the pro guys now when the end comes and the body can't do the amazing any more, whether it's Payton or Jordan or a Maddux. It sucks to watch it take down Tiger Woods' golf game, even if I know that time is undefeated against every athlete.
So here I empathize with Stanford, even though I'm excited for Loyola. If the results were reversed, my empathy would be with Loyola, maybe more since the defeat would've been in front of their fans.
So--for you reading this, the players, the coaches, everyone who winds up on the wrong end of the score...I love you. I love the effort you put in to your season. I love your dedication, the sweat and pain. I love seeing the friendships and brotherhood, I love seeing athletes grow into young men and women and later into adults. I love watching when you win with sportsmanship, and love when you lose with grace and dignity.
Many in the media say today's youth is struggling, that we've lost a generation--but when I see teams play and win or play and lose--I know the world is fine. Maybe my emotion isn't commiseration for the losers after all; maybe it is pride to know that with the next generation, the world's in good hands and I'm witnessing it.
And maybe, just maybe, I need to stay and watch those ceremonies after all.
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