Sportsmanship or Winning?

 

      In the heat of a game the only thing that ever seems to matter is winning.  A couple season's ago on a chilly day in May, I questioned that.  I was playing with my town travel soccer team in a tournament.  We were playing our fierce rivals whom we had often played in the league.  We had already played brutal matches, and not many had walked away without bruises.  Even before the game, there was open hostility and rude remarks from my own team.  Of course, they said these things as a joke they were quick to confirm. However, I was still shocked at how vicious the game would become.  My team went in knowing that we were the underdogs in the match, however, we had hopes of an upset.  It took two minutes for our rivals to score.  The player who scored it was a player we had known for years and not much liked.  It was he who came into the center of the sportsmanship dilemma.   We had not been confident for no reason, and we saw ourselves taking the win.  However, something happened to halt our momentum and enrage my team's tempers, as the skillful player on the other team fell down in apparent agony.  Each and every one of us knew that no foul had been committed, and, yet, five minutes were wasted to escort him off the pitch.  After that, the game began to slow, and my team began to get frustrated.   We started committing pointless fouls. Then, the same player who had been carried off the field proceeded to score and put the game far beyond my team. After the game, we felt defeated and angry. We all refused to shake hands with our opponents, and we instead jeered them with cries of "crybaby".
              For a week after the tournament match, my teammates and I seemed to have developed temporary amnesia and did not speak of our actions at the tournament.  Most of us had a vague feeling that we were not so innocent, as we had pretended.  We were almost embarrassed to speak to one another.  However, we were not truly ashamed until our first practice back.  I will never forget how angry my coach was that day.  He truly showed us the despicable nature of our actions and illuminated the shame we should feel.  He told us that having the ability to lose graciously was more important than the ability to win.  We would face that team again the following year, and we made no mistake.  With our reputations on our minds, we fought hard and respectfully.  Miraculously, the game was clean of fouls.  In the end though, we were fairly beaten.  Forced to concede that we were the weaker side, we applauded the victors and shook their hands heartily.  My team and I will never forget that what we did that game was more important than any game we would or had ever won.  Finally, my coach was truly proud.