Last night I watched ten boys realize it was over. Final whistle. End of the season, end of the road. Some of them stood on the field for a while after. Not talking. Just standing in it.
Then the parents arrived. And the finger pointing continued, everywhere except inward.
Roosevelt said the credit belongs to the person actually in the arena. Not the critic in the stands. Not the spectator who points out how the strong man stumbles. The one whose face is covered in dust and sweat. Who comes up short again and again.
There are two kinds of criticism. One says: this didn’t work, and here’s what we build from the wreckage. The other says: this didn’t work, and here’s who to blame. The first one requires ownership. The second lets you stay exactly where you are.
There’s a mirror inside every failure. Most people walk past it. They look out the window instead. The coach, the ref, the lineup, the circumstances.
My mirror asked… "What could I have done?” Motivate earlier, connect better, set expectations earlier. Start all of this, from the beginning, but that’s my mirror.
What is yours?
