It's 9AM
Winners don’t fail.
They learn.
I’m sure you’ve seen that before.
Maybe whispered it to yourself as you stared at the person in the mirror looking back at you.
It’s a mindset shift.
Somehow, in all the rigid training to become good employees, failing got equated with something bad.
F on your report card?
Means you’re a loser.
Ha. Ha. You can’t do advanced physics to measure the distance between stars using light refraction.
Or start a business that goes under.
Ha. Ha. You’re a loser. A failure. No good for anything except what they tried to teach you how to be.
But a learner is something dangerous.
A learner doesn’t fail.
Sure, they might not make it work once, twice or ten times, but each of those setbacks are temporary.
It is a hard mindset to change, and harder still to maintain.
Because once the world around starts to see that the scarlet F pinned to your chest doesn’t matter and you’re treating it like training, they start to gang up.
Ignore them.
I learned something in my early twenties about not being able to do something well.
When the critics show up and insist on telling you the how why and when of your missteps and mistakes, just smile and nod.
Tell them they’re right.
This weekend, the boys learned a valuable life lesson in a championship game.
A couple of calls didn’t go our way, a couple of good hits worked out for the other team and we had to come back from a deficit.
It was 8 to 7 with the tying run on third, winning run on second and two outs.
After an exciting rally, we thought we had a shot because #10 was up to bat.
He grows under pressure, and lives for the clutch.
First pitch was a strike and a miss.
Second was wide and outside.
Then the pitcher slung one right down the middle and 10 put the barrel on the ball.
A perfect line drive base hit.
Right into the short stop’s glove.
Game over.
Dad’s consoling themselves that “at least it was a good game.”
Mom’s wondering where to grab food before the late night drive back from Mississippi.
And half our team devastated.
Especially 10.
Taking blame.
Taking responsibility.
He likes winning, but he HATES losing.
And on the way home while we wondered what to eat, he watched Youtube instructions on how to bat.
He asked for time in the cage over the summer, and asked for more practice in the front yard, and wondered if he could start working out again.
Back to the basics, because we had been taking it easy this spring due to his shoulder industry.
He was determined to learn how to fix an error, get stronger, and come back better.
Which made me think.
He’s listening when I talk.
Nobody fails when they learn how to make an adjustment and get better.
I just wish we could all practice it more.
Have you learned a lesson that’s stuck?
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