The Agony of Defeat

Before ESPN there was a show back in the '60s and 70's called ABC Wide World of Sports. Jim Mckay who was their main voice at the time did the intro with, "Spanning the globe. To bring you the constant variety of sports. The thrill of victory. And the Agony of Defeat."

The GIF in this post is Vinko Bogat who was the skier that took that horrific spill and was forever etched in the minds of people as being the "Agony of Defeat."

How would you like to be that guy with that stigma hanging over your head? After all, that clip was played for some 30+ years every Saturday at 3:30 PM. How do you get over that?

I don't know much about the guy or if he's even alive, but when you think about the possibilities of how that could have affected his life, that one event could have had a deleterious effect on his entire life.  

My Bone-Crushing Loss

I had an event way, way back in the day that I've framed as a negative.

It was a bone-crushing loss. It was an "Agony of Defeat" but unlike it was played on TV every Saturday afternoon at 3:30, I played it over and over again in my mind.

I think you all would agree that playing what you classify as a negative event over and over in your mind is worse than it being on TV once a week for 30+ years unless you reframe the event.

I'm writing this to reframe my first loss in my life to eradicate the negative hardwire that needs to be replaced with new code.

So here's what happened: This goes back to when I was a Kindergartener in school (age 5?). One of my God-given gifts was athletics. I could run like the wind and there was nobody that could beat me in a foot race.

Sprinting was my superpower back then. I blew everyone away and of course, I was getting very cocky because I never lost. I can't remember the details of whether I initiated the race or if one of my school chums suggested it, but I locked horns with the biggest, badest kid in the school.

His name was Duane Brady and he was in 6th grade. The dude was already 5 foot something and I was probably barely 4 feet at the time.

He was a big intimidating athletic black guy that was the best athlete in the school (from what I remember) at the time. He was like the one guy in school that I'm sure nobody messed with.

When I think about it now I'm surprised he even agreed to race me. I mean, after all, a sixth-grader even talking to a Kindergartener? I'm guessing he saw me run and he figured he'd show me a lesson.

The race took place out in front of the school. We were going to race the length of the school which about half a city block. Of course, there were a bunch of kids that wanted to watch and there were probably 20-30 kids out there to cheer us on.

As we lined up on the sidewalk I was confident. I had no fear from what I remember. I'd never lost a race and the races weren't even close. 

Gentleman Start Your Engines

So we lined up and someone said, "On your mark. Get set. Go!" Duane was on the left of the sidewalk and I was on the right. When I heard "Go!" It was like I was shot out of a bottle rocket. I got Duane off the line and after about 30 feet I couldn't see him out of the periphery of my left eye.

I cranked my head around to the left to see what happened to him. When I got my head turned far enough (it wasn't that far) I could see Duane "Pickin' em up, and layin' em down."

He had a full head of steam and it looked like he just shifted into overdrive. I was like, "Holy Shit!" I cranked my head back around and turned on my jets.

No sooner than I flipped into 4th gear Duane started to pass me on the left. He blew my doors off while I was reaching down for another gear.

He got around me and was running right in front of me. He wasn't pulling away at that point as I was actually gaining on him! I was drafting him for a few seconds but knew I had to make a move to the left if I was going to win this race and get around him.  

The Final Kick

Because he was so much bigger than me, he had a huge stride. I could read the back of his converse tennis shoes as I made my move because the back of his stride was almost eye level. Just as I made my mind up to make a move the heel of his right foot caught me square in the chin. That caused me to lose my balance and I tripped.

The next thing I remember was I was verticle; completely laid out. If I had a cape I probably could have looked like superman.

I came crashing down on the pavement and the race was over. The pain of hitting the concrete in full flight was painful. Losing the race was like a double whammy.

I've looked at that incident my whole life as a loss. A defeat. A bad experience. A negative event in my life. I didn't understand back then that you have a choice. 

Conclusion

You can see the glass half full or half empty. Whether you think an event in your life is positive or negative, either way, you're right. I look back at that event now with a different set of eyes. Even though I didn't win the race I've finally won the war.