“After the cheers have died down and the stadium is empty, after the headlines have been written and after you are back in the quiet of your room and the championship ring has been placed on the dresser and all the pomp and fanfare has faded, the enduring things that are left are: the dedication to excellence, the dedication to victory, and the dedication to doing with our lives the very best we can to make the world a better place in which to live.” - Vince Lombardi
Good morning fellow FIRSTers.
For the past few years, I have had the opportunity to write to you after our season was done. Some of these posts have, much to my surprise, garnered continued attention and postings and have seemed to touch the core of some of our fellow competitors and friends.
Also for the past few years I have fought the battle of the losing team. I have been the one learning how to find victory in apparent defeat, how to find solace in the internal successes and unrecognized joys of individual growth and smaller obtainments.
This year my post must be a bit different. One of the things that I’ve told my team is that, in the end, once you do everything that you can, you have to wait to see if the magic works. When you are competing against a field of amazing competitors; when differences lie in word usage and simple twists of design; in the end it comes down to that spark of something that goes beyond the practical to something near mystical.
At the Bayou - for us - the magic worked. At the Bayou Regional we were honored to receive the Spirit Award on Friday. It was the first award that we as a team have won in 4 years and in that alone we were more than ecstatic. Then on Saturday, everything changed. First, I was given the Volunteer of the Year award. It was a complete surprise and I was floored. Next, our 10th grade Dean’s List nominee, Danielle Massey, was selected as a finalist. This award alone was enough to blow the top of my day but then our MC, Chris Copeland, began to read the Chairman’s Award Script. I don’t know if I can use adequate words to describe what is was like to win our first Chairman’s Award. For the first time ever, I am writing my essay as a victor and that petrifies me.
There are a few things that I have learned through this process of defeat and victory. First, I don’t feel any different. At the end of the day, we are still a family. My team takes joy in cheering for others, in dancing around like lunatics, and in general acting like a big group of kids. People see us, I think, as a group that has as much fun while at competition as we can. In many ways this is true. What most did not see, though, was the back-room meeting at the hotel on Friday where we had to deal with a large amount of internal strife and drama that had started to overtake our family. We live with our emotions on our sleeves – and it took us a few hours to hammer out things.
There are a few things that seem different. At the same time that the weight of losing over and over again was removed from our hearts a new weight seemed to settle. It can best be described as the “now what”. Once your dreams have come true . . . what then? Of course we continue to “add to our stories” as our presentation noted. But deeper. Is there a weight that comes with winning? One that requires of us to establish new boundaries and pursue further exploits? Is it ok to feel like while we may deserve what we’ve won, we don’t really deserve it?
My post, then, is for those with whom the magic has been kind. To the victor goes the spoils – but it also goes the responsibility of honesty for those that are still looking up and wondering how far up that mountain there is yet to go.
To you that win, I have a few questions: How has winning changed you? What has it turned you into? And most importantly; Are you happy with who you have become?
