I Really, Really Hate Losing


I was some kid when I was growing up.  I had a lot of things figured out.  For example, in the 7th grade, I wrote a history paper explaining that when the Republicans were in power, we had depressions and financial crises.  When the Democrats were in power we would end up in a war.  I concluded by explaining that it was up to the American people to decide whether they wanted war or depression.  I was amazed by the fact that I was the first person to figure that out.  I was really annoyed when I got a C- on my paper.  So much for originality of thought!

Another thing I figured out was if you approached every game like it’s a “life or death struggle,” you lose less often.  And, I did lose less often.  I was a really bad loser and, come to think of it, a really bad winner.  Kids didn’t like me, but, hey, in a life or death struggle, where does friendship come in?

My Dad was an excellent checker player.  I wasn’t happy when he beat me, but I had removed checkers (with him) from a life or death struggle.  When I was ten, we went on a vacation in the Ozarks and I played checkers with my Uncle Bob.  I could tell from his moves that he was no match for me.  I jumped one of his checkers and the next thing I knew, he made a triple jump into my king row.  The checkers were made of Bakelite, an early plastic, and before I realized what I was doing, I crushed four of the checkers in my hand.  I wanted to play him again, but he refused to play with broken checkers.

Not much changed through high school.  I think I seemed like a normal kid until I got on an athletic field and then the adrenaline and the old philosophy took over.  When I reflect back, I’m surprised someone didn’t throw a net over me.  Then again, there was reinforcement for my philosophy.  We never lost a football game the entire time I was in high school.

Football is a sport that requires its players to be emotionally “up” for the game.  Senator John Culver, one of my partners at Arent Fox and a friend, was a star fullback at Harvard College.  He told me one day while we were on the topic, “Jack, it’s not the kind of sport where you get up in the morning and while putting on your socks, say to yourself, ‘Well, I guess I’ll go out there today and throw my body into people with the distinct possibility that either they or I will be injured.’ ”  I guess I never figured out how to get “up” for a game without being in a frenzy.

East St. Louis Senior High School played teams from as far away as Chicago and Indianapolis just to fill out our schedule.  In October, 1954, we traveled to Warren Central High School in Indianapolis.  I was the second string quarterback.  My parents went to the game.  They watched our game on Friday night and then drove up to Purdue to see my brother Bill play for the Missouri Tigers on Saturday.  We beat Warren Central 19-0 and I got to play in the 4th quarter.  I threw a long pass to one of our ends.  He was ten yards behind everyone and I hit him right in the hands.  He dropped the ball.  I went crazy.  I was storming on the field.  I was storming on the sideline.  How could he do that to me when I threw such a perfect pass?

On Sunday, my Dad sat me down and told me that Bill had not gotten into the game against Purdue.  But, he was much prouder of Bill than he was of me.  He read me the riot act regarding my antics on the field (and on the sideline).  And so the process began.  I began to realize that I had to be accountable for my actions.  At a minimum, that meant not showing up my team mates.

My rehab has never been completely successful.  But I do have an additional philosophy that I live by and recommend to you.  It is, “If what has you upset won’t be bothering you in three days, then it’s not worth getting upset over.”  If you break a plate – clean it up – move on.  Even if you have a fender bender – get over it.

This won’t come as a shock.  Even though I have been playing many sports for many years, I have never received a Sportsmanship award (never even been nominated).  But then, any committee who knew me, might think I would find the nomination insulting.

6 thoughts on “I Really, Really Hate Losing”

  1. Glad you brought this up. Having played football, baseball, and basketball with you in high school, I can attest to your fierce desire to win. I have yet to know anyone or see anyone with such a desire as you..to win and not lose. This gives me the opportunity to thank you!. It was a privilege to watch you compete and have you as a teammate. It was an awesome time. As you well know, in our 3 years of high school football we were 31-0-1. I just wish I could have beaten you out at QB!

    Thanks for the memories!

  2. Ron, And I would have loved to be able to play basketball as well as you. Thank goodness there was a spot for both of us on our baseball team. Jack

  3. Jack: Thanks for the blog. Perceptions are one’s reality. That said, I differ slightly in my perception of my former friend and teammate (Rice). He was a youngster coming from a (rightfully so) proud family. His parents were well respected in our community and his father was instrumental in promoting baseball, which would allow thousands of youngsters to realize “little league” games. My friend could not help but to be influenced in positive ways by an older successful athletic brother. The pressure coming from the aforementioned must be profound on a young boy growing up in those perceived shadows of expectation. I thought Jack Rice handled his pressure very well and also assisted teammates as they pursued their competitive challenges.

    When you follow a 39-year coaching career through communities that expected “wins” or you are fired, I understood so well the nature of pressure. Interestingly, taking the ball in hand from a Jaycee coach (Spickard) @ age nine and pursuing those pitching pressures through college, I understood that which I controlled and that which I did NOT control. At a young age, YOU were instrumental in some of my early lessons.

    My den walls define much of my athletic past. As time passes and I glance at those tributes, it is funny how I recall more readily the “relationships” forged in each calling: player and coach.

    Don’t be too hard on your self as you reflect. Your mentality of distaste for losing was and is a noble mind set. You rubbed off in a good manner.

    Moe

    footnote: I recall early in my coaching career when in the closing seconds of a pressure packed important contest before 3,000 fans, a player of mine was fouled. He was a poor free throw shooter. I called time out and told the players when they took the floor I wished for another (better shooter) to take the foul shot: he did and we won. When I entered the dressing room after this “big” win for our school, I sensed an uncomfortable, less than jubilant feeling among my players. I did not sleep well that night…but I made it right with my guys the next day @ practice by apologizing for an overzealous “win-at-any-cost” approach.

  4. Anyone reading this article who did not know better would probably picture you as an ogre. You were intense, but most of our friends at Mizzou were the same way on the field. Off the field, you were easy going; you had a good sense of humor, and you were a great coach. The story reads better the way you wrote it, but posterity may benefit from a little balance via this footnote.

  5. Now it all makes sense–When I first heard about Jack Rice the QB at MU his frosh year-they told me he was out on the football field talking to himself at midnite–Must have been a bad practice or a loss at something–Can you still do one armed push-ups?–Luke

  6. I remember a touch football game at a JAG School picnic…where you dove into a rock
    filled creek bank to catch a pass. Most would have stood on the bank and let the ball go. That earned you a few scratches and iodine.

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