The team made its way out to left field for our post-game meeting. There was an obvious mix of enthusiasm among its members. Some jogged, still showing the hustle after the game that their coaches had been preaching all season. Others ambled more slowly than rush hour traffic in midtown.
I couldn’t blame them for feeling listless; we’d just lost 12-0.
The boys knelt or sat cross-legged in the outfield and promptly began pulling out blades of grass while they waited for my coaching partner and me. We exchanged some brief thoughts about who had earned the game ball and walked out to join the team.
“Look,” I began, “I know it’s hard to think about positives after we just lost a game like that.”
A few of the players smiled ruefully as I continued. I mentioned their progress in working together as a team, including some players who played out of position in that game. I pointed out that two of our better players had not been available. And I added that we had played hard against our opponents, who were the best team in the league.
I went on to say that Memorial Day Weekend was essentially our All Star Break. We had passed the mid-point of the season and wouldn’t have another game for a full week. I encouraged the players to come to practice in a few days ready to work, but also to put tonight’s game behind them. I had just finished reminding them that, in our league, everyone makes the playoffs when our starting catcher raised his hand.
“E, you have something to add?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, turning to face his teammates.
“We have to be like goldfish.” Continue reading “The Happiest Animal in the World”