The Unimportant Importance of Winning: Why We Maybe Sort Of Kind Of Can Care a Little Bit

Is winning important?

Yes... no... maybe... I don't know... can you repeat the question?

Is winning important?

It really depends.

Is winning important?

I suppose it is.

Is winning important?

Yes.

Let's face it, yes it is. Kids are confused, parents are confused, and I'm confused, so let's attack the issue and try to provide some clarity.

When we play football, not yoga, there is a clear winner and loser  (yes I know there is such a thing as a draw, but we don't accept that in the cup). In yoga, there is not. Activities (not sports) like that, often seem unappealing simply for that reason. How do I win? There's no winners? So what's the point?

Kids are forever being told that winning is not important, but then scores are kept. If you truly want your kids to be unaware of winners and losers, don't teach them how to count. "Great win today" versus "the result is unimportant." It's a contradiction, but are the two mutually exclusive?

Let us try to define some parameters.

Would you rather win or lose? Win.

Is it a matter of life and death? No (though football did start a war once) unless your last name is Escobar.

Is it the FA Cup final? Probably not. Why this phrase has entered the lexicon of football, I'm not entirely sure. Once when I was winning a game of football, and about to win the league, we were demolishing our opponent. Crushed them 14-2 in a twenty-four minute game of five-a-side. Yes, that's one goal less than every two minutes. We were on form. It was the culmination of four months worth of hard work. We joined a league because we wanted to win. Surely every other team in the league was aware of the terms and conditions associated with joining a league. This was a complete performance by us, aided by the fact our former goalkeeper, and current nemesis, was their goalie. We gave it absolutely everything, and destroyed our opponents. One player, obviously unimpressed with our desire and commitment, remarked during the game "It's not the FA Cup final!". Of course, he was right. We were playing in a warehouse in Hampshire, with very few people outside of that shed even aware that football takes place there. To us, it became one of very few moments of glory in our petty footballing careers. It was the best any of us glorious amateurs were ever going to do, and ner ner, we're better than you.

That man sought to devalue our accomplishment, but why? We weren't being mean to him (apart from raping his team), and meant him no ill-will. He was so insignificant to us that I do not remember his name, nor his face, and played against him a few times after that without ever being aware of which one he was. But us silly humans always remember how someone made them feel. It stuck in my mind as odd, and still does. As captain, I was encouraging my team. It's probably wise to mention at this point that for every four goals, up until twelve, you obtain an extra point. A 12-0 win is six points for example. We had to score twelve or more to guarantee the league as second place were a point behind us, and were playing the very next game. So every time anything happened in the match, I was giving my boys some encouragement. Well done, keep going, great work, two more goals etc. This charming chap, a middle-aged man, decided to mimic me as we got closer to our target. I think I was about twenty-one at the time, and dashingly good looking. This only spurred me on to work harder, and encourage louder. The referee called us in, and threatened us both with yellow cards if we continued. I was astounded, as I had genuinely done nothing wrong. I was not retaliating, being sarcastic, winding him up, or being facetious in any way, shape, or form. The referee had asked me to stop encouraging my team as it was winding up my opponent. Illogical.

That little trip down memory lane does serve a purpose. While the man was pointing out how unimportant it was for us to win a five-a-side league in a warehouse, he was clearly more upset about losing than we were excited about winning. Why would that be? Humans are loss averse. The work of one of my favourite authors, Dan Ariely, shows this quite clearly. We do what we can to avoid pain, humiliation, and suffering. It's a survival technique brought on through millions of years of evolution. If something scares us, or poses a threat, we run away. It's a wise thing to do. Now that we are social beings working less off of primal instincts, this loss aversion takes shape in other areas. He had to pretend like losing meant nothing to him, and in putting so much effort into masking this pain, contradicted his own front of acting like he didn't care.

We invest so much time and money into being winners in our everyday lives. It's astounding. It's no surprise to see shirt sales rise of the team that won the Premier League, Champions League, or World Cup the season before. We want to be associated with winners. People will think I'm cool because I wear the shirt of a winner. In reality, all you've done is contribute £50 to the team as a reaction to them winning. The song "Where were you when you were shit?" can often be heard being sung by away fans at Stamford Bridge and The Etihad. Working hard isn't important to us, absolutely not, but being associated with a winner is. It's easier to buy a Barcelona, Germany, Real Madrid, Manchester United etc. shirt and experience success by proxy than it is to actually go out there yourself and achieve something worthwhile.

Pretty much every interaction we have these days is about finding out who has the upper hand, and determining who is superior. That's how shallow we've become. I've got a more expensive car, suit, or pair of sunglasses, therefore I am superior, and thus... suck it. People even wear sunglasses indoors, often on their heads or hanging from their top button, on cloudy days, just to give off the impression that they are winning. Look how cool I am with my designer sunglasses, which just so happen to be hanging from my expensive designer shirt. It may be cloudy, but winners like me are used to the sun shining down on us. That's why I always keep these handy. It's so thoroughly pretentious, and yet very few people pick up on it. I can often be found being told to calm down or let it go when I point out that some showoff is wearing sunglasses indoors on a cloudy day, and that they are an attention seeking idiot, and that they need to know that they are a idiot, and that the wider population should learn that they are an idiot.

Even when we have discussions about ideologies, theories, and certain rationales, we are politely waiting for others to finish having their say so that we can take centre stage again. It's like buying credit for listening time, by listening to them in exchange. "Now that you're done waffling, let me continue to further demonstrate my superior intellect." Winning. I am winning the conversation. I have scored points by coming across as knowledgeable. Bow down to me. It's important to me that you know how important I am. Ever seen someone from school or college years after leaving? It's just a penis measuring contest. Are you married? In a relationship? Essentially, who is having the most sex, and how great does she look naked?  I invariably win that one, which is demonstrated by the line "Ah mate... foreign birds!" which comes with a nod of approval. It seems to trump a lot of people. They try to claw back a little credibility by bringing up the topic of either visas or long distance relationships, or will say "looks like you're stuck with her now." Because of course fornicating with "fit foreign birds" is all well and good, until one of them latches onto you, and tries to get you to settle down.

The next thing is career or education. How cool is your job is only slightly more important than how much you get paid, or what perks you have. If both jobs are boring, pay is what clinches it. If one job is way cooler than the other, the loser often tries to justify their position by providing some tangible example of how much they are raking in. "I travel the world coaching football, but it's hard to save, as I earn peanuts." "That's cool mate, I just put a deposit down on a house/expensive car/expensive holiday" which translates as "Your job may be fun, but in five years I'll be earning even more money than I do now, which is X times the amount you will be." If the talk turns to education, it's measured first by level of qualification, then by grade, then by institution, which can include location, and as a sub-category, includes birds and shagging. If they didn't go on to further education, which is absolutely fine, they like to downplay the importance of education. "You don't need a degree." Nope, you don't. People love wasting three years to further their knowledge by 0%, increase their job prospects and potential promotions by 0%, and to explore 0% of new locations, learn 0% about being independent, and making 0% of new friends. I've said it before, but I never try to convince the uneducated that they should have got a degree, whereas many of them try to convince me mine is worthless. My mate who got a PhD, didn't need to do that. Waste of time, mate. Could have got a job at sixteen. Look how much I'm earning. Got a new car. As if not having a degree somehow makes your living more honest.

So then we put our penises away, check our watches (which is the phallus we wear around our wrist), and see who can be the first to offer to buy the other a drink (I always lose that one).

It is all about penis measuring though. In every walk of life, in every realm of sport, art, business, science, it's about the size of your penis. If we're online, it becomes the ePeen. My Facebook profile shows my ePeen is bigger than yours. People spend absolutely ages trying to get the right selfie. We've become so disingenuous these days that it is actually sad. The smiles in selfies are so fake, and it is easy to tell by looking at the corners of the eyes and the corners of the mouths. People have a very different smile when they are genuinely happy. A smile is a reaction, which cannot be faked. Just look at the way girls pout, turn their heads, hide their bellies, include more cleavage, and take about fifteen photos until they are happy there's one good enough for them to PhotoShop successfully. I can't be bothered with it. Too much effort. Who are they trying to press anyway? Certainly not anyone they know, who knows they don't actually look like that. I know this obese girl. Literally obese. She's short too, which gives her an almost spherical appearance. Anyway, she doesn't look fat in all her photos. They're either from the shoulders up, or when we see full body, she manages to wear black, stand in the shadow, and hide it behind three or four people. She takes plenty of selfies, heavily made up, and heavily shooped, to the point where she looks like a stunner. It's the complete opposite of the real her. We all know that. Is she trying to create a world where she's actually gorgeous? I've known her for ten years. In that time, she could have actually become gorgeous. No more gallons of makeup, no more fat girl angle shots, no more shoops, no more lies, no more having to hide, and no more risk of diabetes or death from coronary heard disease. But we're all about short term gains. Covering the cracks with tape, as opposed to knocking it down and starting again.

Winning sells. It is a metaphor for sex. We are so obsessed with it in our adult lives, but can't always get it, so invent other ways. Pretty much everything becomes a substitute for it. Check out Maslow's hierarchy of needs. Once the needs for food and sex are taken care of, we can work down the list of priorities, and occupy ourselves with other things. In those moments after sex, no one has any worries about anything at all. Not even "Did the neighbours hear us?" or "Will my girlfriend find out?" That urge to do it completely trumps everything else in our lives. It has to, or else our species would not be here today. The regret doesn't set in until much later, when we are thinking clearly again. That's when doubt, worry, and rationality come flooding back into the brain. So if we're not winning at sex (by having sex) we have to win at other man-made constructs. It's all a substitute, and all comes down to penis measuring. And people can't win in silence either. They have to let us know about it via Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. If you're that desperate to tell me about your gym routine, then you haven't been working out for your own sake. If you're on the beach, showing the world your hotdog legs, and remarking about how this is the life or you could get used to this, it's because you want us to think of you and associate you with that kind of lifestyle, even though we all know it's temporary (like hiring a limo for prom, and that being the one and only time you ever go in a limo, but making sure to take a thousand photographs before you're done). If you have to take a picture of an alcoholic beverage in the sun, then sadly your ability to relax, your self-efficacy, how you wish others to perceive you, and your altruistic ability to be able to enjoy yourself, are sadly dangerously linked with alcohol. That's a shame.

Then the following week, we're back to work, and we get the recap with "this time last week" posts and photos. Wow. That's amazing. Seven days ago you were somewhere else, doing something different to what you were today. Cool. Imagine if I took a picture of the toilet in my hotel, and then a week later put on Facebook "A week ago I was defecating into this #memories #summer2016 #BestDumpEver # TeamPorcelain" you'd be shaking your heads at the pure absurdity of it all, and genuinely considering defriending me. Sometimes on holiday, my Dad will make such posts to prove a point. My Mum tells him it's boring. He tells her that's the point. So we're not just saying "look at me winning", we're also saying "remember that time I won?"

Clearly then, we do value winning. Where does it come from? At an early age, I remember kids picking on other kids at school, including me, for the football team they supported, and getting into real heated arguments when one kid's team beat the team of another kid. It's hilarious really, that any of us would be that upset by it. Why would you cry? Why would you fight? Why would you even think that makes you somehow superior? For the very young, around five, it's often not a choice which team you support. You don't decide that today is the day you're going to decide to like football, and then go to an estate agent to pick the best team for you. Or even go to the shop and examine the shirts. Chances are, it was chosen for you. It was predetermined at birth. Predetermined at birth that you were going to be a person that supports Manchester United. It's a strange concept. The thing that defines you, yet you had no control over has lost to the thing that defines me, that I had no control over. You can apply that to all spectator sports. You can also apply that to just about any war. War always seems stupid and illogical from the outside, but often the only way from the inside. People are that behind what they believe, they are willing to fight for it. Weird.

Kids are looking to establish a sense of self-worth, which, due to the popularity of football, can be closely linked to their favourite team. Crying about it, like we all did, is just petty and stupid. I'm sure kids picked on me for supporting Blackburn, even though we were a decent team when I was growing up. It was akin to bullying when they were relegated when I was ten. In what way did it make anyone else superior to me, and what made them feel the need to tell me it did? We all had one shared pain though, which was Euro 1996. The next day at school was like a funeral. That's very different. That was crushed hope. That was joy being destroyed in the most dramatic of fashions. That night was the soap opera of football.

Around then, when wrestling was popular, we all become hugely devoted fans. We all had a favourite. Being the outcast, I liked the guy no one else had as their favourite. While they all went for The Rock, Stone Cold, or The Undertaker, I went for Kane. Not everyone was a fan, but they had to be to fit in, so would join in, in anyway they can, as to not be ostracised. In other words, kids learnt very young to pretend to like something so that others would like them. As kids, we didn't believe it was fake. Slowly we grew up and grew off it. Still maintain that it was great entertainment, when we learnt it was predetermined, it lost any authenticity, and suddenly you couldn't support a wrestler like you could a football team. Why adults cling to it and wish to be like John Cena, I'll never fully appreciate. We know it's fake, and we know John Cena wins due to popularity and interesting story arks, rather than any ability or cunning of his own design. Again, people, no matter how thick, no matter how obvious something may be, they still like to cling to winners.

So is winning important?

No. It's all a load of rubbish.

When playing youth football, kids are told to play to win, but that winning is not important. "It's not the winning that counts, it's the taking part." Imagine if that was said about World War 2. It sends mixed messages to newly developing humans at what is a very important time for them in their assimilation of the world. I've talked to many coaches that seem to contradict themselves even in the same breath about this concept, though I would give them the benefit of the doubt and suggest that they do not know how to properly articulate themselves. The clearest I can make it based on current knowledge is that winning is important, but not at the expense of development, and not with the mantra of win at all costs. Is that a little clearer? Of course we want to win, but more importantly, we must develop good players, and not win by fouling or diving.

How can you understand where I'm coming from if I don't articulate it clearly enough? If you can't explain it to someone else, you don't understand it well enough yourself. Perhaps the message is being lost. Essentially, we're all going to place different emphasis upon winning, largely determined by our own values and beliefs. The will to win can either be intrinsic or extrinsic, put simply; do you win for you or do you win for things? Do you win for you or do you win for others?

As a coach, it is my belief that if players arrive at me with no intrinsic motivation to do well, without that innate will to win, it's too late, and no amount of barking or screaming will change that. I don't have the time or the energy to convert you into an intrinsically motivated athlete. One that will work hard despite the score, one that will still be grinding when it is raining, when training is boring, who can be seen doing the dirty work, and putting in the extra effort around the pitch and the training site. It stems from values. We're willing to go the extra mile if we believe in the cause. How important to you is football? Really important? Then why don't you turn up on time, listen to your coach, and work hard? Surely if it was important, everyone would do those things.

Football means so much to so many people. I will try to watch anything I can. If I'm not enjoying it, I am learning from it. I am obsessed. I collect scarves, I try to visit stadiums, I try to see as many different teams and players as I can, regardless of the level. When my schedule is full, I still find time for football. It's amazing, right? We make time for what is important to us. I can go alone, or with others. I can watch Champions League or Conference. There's something to be enjoyed and something to be learned at all these games. As a sentimentalist, I have a collection of over sixty different football shirts from all around the world, as well as my extensive scarf and pennant collection. In recent years that extended to other sports, as I try to learn more about athletes, their psychology, coping strategies, motor skill development, everything socially that attributed to them becoming who they are. I want to know stuff. It's all going to help me somehow. Is this a pursuit for knowledge and maybe football is just my vessel? It could be. There are many football snobs, who proudly proclaim that they only watch Champions League or Premier League, like some wine connoisseur, attempting to batter us with their large ePeen. But why? Football's football to me. I know the Premier League is better than the Conference. It's obvious. But I'm still going to go.

I have also stopped cheering or crying when my team wins or loses. I realised many years ago that Blackburn were pure garbage and so winning was going to be rare. But in all seriousness, I do love the club, and I do have this affinity that will never die, but I actually do not contribute to their success or failure in any way. Not at all. So why I should feel personally responsible for any win or loss they experience is beyond me. As I've moved up the coaching ladder, I've become a little more detached. It's a very realistic possibility that my own pursuits could be matched against the pursuits of Rovers, either via ladies, academy, or even men's first team. I don't think I'm mentally prepared for such a clash of interests, but I am now fighting for a slice of the same pie as Blackburn Rovers. And so that separation is there. It hardly affects me. That could be down to being an emotionally lacking robot. When they lose, I roll my eyes, when they win, I have a brief smile, but it's hard to feel anything more than that, as I did not contribute. Especially as I live so far away, and have gone extended periods of time without seeing them. It could be the separation from the community. What I do feel genuinely strong about is the way the owners have run this club over the last five years. It is a sham, and no one else seems to care, as we're not a fashionable club. Manchester United lose a game and the media goes into meltdown, whereas Rovers are raped and pillaged from the inside, and the fans are demonised for expressing their concerns.

What does get me going a little bit, but not greatly, is the performance of my own team. Note how I said performance? Yes, I do like to win, and I do like to see my team climb up the table, but I bring a task-oriented approach. Results and performance are not exactly linked, though there is a strong correlation. Play well and you are likely to win the game. Not definitely. I know that if we play well often enough, we'll win often enough. As I have explained in other articles, winning sometimes isn't down to you, but performance is. We should do all that we can to enable ourselves the best chance of winning that game. Our own performance should be top priority, as that is how we swing the odds of winning a game in our favour. It doesn't always happen. We don't always win when we play well. I don't believe we should be upset in those moments, but it is hard for us to focus on the performance, when that is subjective, compared to the completely objective scoreline.

As an example, I recently had a group of players get together, and we started to play futsal. We stormed the league, winning it undefeated. We slaughtered some teams, played incredibly well, and were top for the entire duration of the season. We were brilliant. We loved playing well, being with friends, and overcoming the odds to win at a sport most of the players had never tried before.Then, on the final night of the season, with just one game to go, it was ourselves versus second. A draw was good enough for us to be crowned champions. It was tense. Our opponents brought in ringers, including a Northern Ireland international. They were desperate to win, and went to great lengths. Two of our regulars were away on holiday. Another was injured. We were not in our best state. We feared they may catch us off guard, which would be a travesty considering the earlier desk scandal (our previous encounter, when we could have wrapped up the title a few games earlier, and had our strongest ever squad, was cancelled, because the school had been having exams, didn't cancel our booking, and couldn't be bothered to move the desks. Absolute blue balls). It was cagey, as both teams looked to exert dominance. One goal was going to make the difference. We backed our ability to be able to defend better than they can attack, and that their defence are useless. Defenders win games you see. They hit the post. We hit the underside of the bar. Both keepers had an outstanding reaction save or two in them, but the chances were limited at both ends. 0-0 was suiting us just fine. Then with five minutes to go, it all changed. Compact, and defending well, their forward, with four defenders between her and the goal, cut inside from the left, onto her stronger right foot, and fired a shot into our net. It was a triple nutmeg. What are the odds of that? The tracking defender tried to block the shot, the doubling defender tried to block the shot, and the keeper tried to block the shot. It went right through all of them.

Timeout called. Three minutes remaining. What did we reiterate? We have to win this? We've come so far? It would be sadder than Bambi to lose this game and this championship? No, no, and no. We know what's at stake, so why add extra pressure with constant reminders? We know we want to win, and know we are losing, so shhhh. Let's make it task-orientated. Let's focus on the performance, not the result. What is within our control? How we play. I reminded them to not worry about the score, the minutes, the trophy, or anything else. We still had time left, which meant we still had a chance. Focus on the things that you can do right. Your next pass, your next tackle, your next shot. Take it one step at a time. Do all those things right, and a chance could present itself. Absolutely no need to panic. It felt like any kind of Hollywood sports movie, just without the rousing speech at the last timeout. My players were reminded to keep their heads and keep working. The instructions were clear. We knew our game plan. We had confidence. It just takes one thing for it to go right, and we are champions. We restarted the game. The opponents sat deep. We approached the final two minutes. The ball was laid off to our keeper. She advanced up the court, looking for a pass, as the other four crossed the halfway line, looking to provide options in advance of the ball. What was she going to do? Keepers only have four seconds of possession in their own half. This is how quick it happened, but how slow it felt. A defender decided to approach our goalie. If she nicks it, it's an empty net, 2-0, and game over. Our keeper sought to engage, taking a couple touches closer to the defender. One of those touches was a bit heavy. Oh no. She's going to lose it. She's going to be dispossessed. She should have passed sooner. The others should have moved into better positions. There's no way anyone is going to recover to block the shot at the open goal. There's no way we can score two goals in two minutes. All these thoughts went through our heads in the blink of an eye. Then, hope appeared. Despite the big touch, the defender misread the situation, and had her weight on the backfoot, and this was unable to extend far enough to poke the ball away. Our keeper took one touch away, with the outside of her right foot. Her laser targeting system scanned for an opportunity to shoot. A direct shooting opportunity opened up to the top right corner of the net. Missile lock was established. She pulled the trigger. Bang. That ball flew through the air like a rocket. I could hear the angels sing as the ball travelled through time and space direct to the back of the net. The opposition were silenced. The opposition keeper was stunned. She could not react in time to that. We erupted. That was one of the single most pure moments of joy I have ever experienced in sport.

But we had a job to do. There were two minutes still to play. Our opponents removed their keeper and played empty net, going 5v4 on the court. Desperate times call for desperate measures. We defended like champions. It was clear that they were not going to recover from that psychological blow, and that we had the confidence in our own ability to be able to effectively protect our goal. The final whistle went, and it was sheer joy. I actually hugged them. Ew. We celebrated like morons, and took the trophy to McDonald's. It was indescribable how I felt that night and for the next few days.

Is winning important?

You can bet your house it is!

So why? I mentioned that I am task oriented, and believe in performance rather than results, so then why would my behaviour and emotional state have been so different had that shot not gone in, and we didn't win? Could I have been happy with just knowing that we had played amazing all season, and that one lucky triple-nutmeg goal is all that prevented us from lifting the trophy? No. Absolutely not. Not at all. That trophy was rightfully ours. It's a symbol of everything we have achieved, and how well we had done. After the bad times we had on the eleven-a-side pitch, and all the negativity that we had come through, we needed something like this. It meant everything to us. It felt like two-fingers up to all those doubters and everyone that had caused us trouble. But those aren't entirely selfless reasons, are they? Suppose not. It feels great to win, made even better by shutting a few people up. There is a little bit of spoilt brat in all of us. Cristiano Ronaldo has learned to embrace his, and they are now one and the same. We would have been distraught had we lost that game. We can perfectly justify and rationalise the merits of performance over winning, and when you're a mid-table team, pretty much everyone agrees with it, but when you actually have that chance of success, nothing less will do.

So is it development versus winning?

We can all develop, we can all grow, and we can all improve. That's certain. Regardless of age, ability, or experience, there is always a way for us to be better. By focusing on performance, setting targets, achieving goals, measuring progress, we will improve. Do we need to improve to be champions? Absolutely. No team ever wins the league and then keeps the exact same team. Everyone looks to strengthen at every available opportunity. To be champions at the end of a nine month season means that a lot of things have to go right. There are thousands of decisions to be made in every game and every training session. So much can influence a team or an individual negatively or positively. To say "we're going to win the league this year" is like saying at the start of the game "we need to score more goals than our opponents" or telling a racing driver to "drive faster than everybody else." It simplifies it almost to the point of offence.

Listen to champions and they always tell you that they take it one step at a time. I want to achieve so much in my life, but will that happen by daydreaming or by working? I need to focus on every little thing I can, make sure it's done right, and move onto the next one. And so we have another way of winning. It's all little wins. Little inches. Little yesses. I got it right, good, next one. I got it right, good, next one. Brick by brick, step by step. How can we get closer to achieving our goals? And that's it. Goals. Not actually putting the ball in the net, but targets. Short term. Systematically attack the small issues. See each one as a win, that builds into the larger win. I played an accurate pass, that's a win. I made a very important block, that's a win. Enough of those wins, and you should win the game. Enough of those wins, and you should win the league.

By setting it out like this, it aids consistency. It's hard to keep going when you know the end is so far away. What's the point in working so hard now, as I won't experience any of the potential success until much, much later? Anyone who has done long distance running will know this. It's boring. It's monotonous. I hate it. As soon as I take my first few steps, I hate it, and myself. I want to quit. I want to finish. I'd rather ride a bike or drive instead. But the benefits of running are undeniable, and if I want to be fit and healthy, I should definitely be exercising. I cope by trying to distract myself, by music, stories, TV if there is one, and rarely looking at the time. I will set myself a target of three songs, one chapter, until the commercial break, until I check the time or distance.

Another thing to do is to not compare yourself to others. Sure, if you had their circumstances, you may be doing better or worse, but it's a needless philosophical debate to have with yourself right there and then. Like all those little wins, your opponents will be doing the same. It's very hard to influence the amount of little wins they have, and so judging yourself by their performance or their score, is not worth doing. You can't control them. All you can do is make yourself better than them. And if you can't do that... cheat. No, don't cheat. Congratulate them, and find ways for you to be better than them next time. It takes a lot of humility, which many of us struggle with.


So we have to redefine what we mean by winning. I had these well documented discussions with the parents of my boys in Mexico. They wanted to win win win, and couldn't understand why we would lose lose lose. As long as the boys were trying their best and having fun, I couldn't ask for more. I literally could not ask for more. What was I supposed to do? "Juan Pablo, when you show up tomorrow, I'd like you to magically be ten times better than you are now." I swear some of them believed that coaching was actually that simple. Many of them would agree with me, but then completely change their mood after the game. Football makes hypocrites of us all. I was just happy if Juan Pablo stopped getting his willy out during games. It's a big step for seven year olds, and some are ready for it sooner than others.

Anyone who's heard me ramble will be aware of the story of the time we lost 18-1 to a Barcelona team. These were some of the best seven year olds in the city. They had exceptional technique, and were frighteningly intelligent with their play. We couldn't compete with that. These boys were likely born with a football at their feet, practising their motor skills every day since they could open their eyes, and were playing against mine, who were largely a group of novices. Of course there was only going to be one winner. Due to the idiocy of the Mexican youth system, leagues were not separate at this age, and so we could play just about any team of any quality. What good does that do to either the winner or the loser? If we're getting beat every week, what are we learning? If you're giving out a thrashing every week, what are you learning?

When it become impossible to win, winning should not be the goal. That Barcelona game, despite the thrashing, actually provides many learning opportunities. If these boys are the same age as mine, let's see what they are capable of. What are they good at and how do they do it? How much of that difference can we make up by the next time we play them? We wouldn't ever be able to beat them, so winning shouldn't be the goal, but we could improve our performance. On any given day, the four things you control are desire, fitness, organisation, and effort. Can we want it more? Can we run for longer? Can we be more switched on than them? Can we work harder than them? Often you see teams that are weaker win games because they trump their opponents in one of those categories. Sometimes it's not actually about collective ability.

Those then become our goals. Get those things right, and our performance will give us a good enough chance to win the game. That's winning. Win at those things. And win for yourself. If you're winning for somebody else, it will never be true enough for you to be able to draw that pure inspiration from out of yourself.

One dad once said to me "I don't get this whole not winning thing" when I tried to explain to him my views on the importance of performance over results. It came with an accusatory tone, as if I was deliberately setting up my teams to lose. At every game we go over the things we need to do in order to win that match. We need to make sure we do this... do that... exploit them like that... you know, the usual detailed pre-match team talk. What he had seen was me rotating the squad, and sometimes playing players out of position. Well, the dyspraxic little fat kid that can't kick a ball also needs time on the pitch, or else he's never going to learn how to kick a ball, or even lose weight for that matter. The striker played in defence because he can't tackle, and by putting him there, he's forced to have to learn that skill. Losing a game at eight years old is not going to matter one bit to him when he's twenty five (it won't even matter twenty minutes after the game with most kids) but what will matter to him (trust me, I've been there) is when he wakes up one day as an adult and realises what a limited footballer he is because his coaches played to win, and never gave him the correct care and attention to develop his skills.

With kids, when forging through a curriculum throughout the season, I'd base our performance upon what we'd done in training leading up to the game. As we know, we can't control the quality of our opponents. One week you'll lose by ten, the next week you'll win by ten. That is youth football the world over. So let's look for those little wins. We worked on short passes this week, so I'm going to measure our performance by how well we pass the ball around (in addition to the required information that's going to help them WIN THE GAME). At the end of the game, we gather in, and talk about how it went, comparing the performance against our objectives. Kids want to win. They are very competitive. Who can shout the loudest. Who can hold their breath the longest. Whose stick can float downstream the quickest. They know that winning and losing is a thing, and they do value it. What we absolutely cannot allow is for them to feel the extra pressure of the parents, who almost make it seem like their love depends upon the result of the football game.

Now of course, if you don't know what the team is up to, you're only objective measure is the scoreline. Which team scored more goals? Some dads that are a bit more into it may go online and search for a league table, to know whether defeat could be justified, or that winning should be expected. Some even have a mate whose son plays in that team, or has played that team before, and like to give helpful scouting advice, often done on the sly, like some kind of drug deal in the crisp open air of a cloudy November morning. "This team's got one really fast centre forward. You're gonna have to watch out." Thanks mate. I'll tell the kids to "watch out." I'm sure they'll know what to do. At the end of the game we'll have a team discussion. "Did you see him?" I'll ask. "Yeah" they'll say, "but we couldn't stop him scoring." "Well then" I'll surmise, "you should have watched out, shouldn't you."

Why is it that kids play sport? We've all seen the research by now. They like to learn new skills, be with their friends, they love the game, they want to be like their hero Steven Reid. Winning is very far down that list. Usually said with a thoughtful "Yeah, I suppose that would be nice." Like receiving a blow job from Jessica Alba. That's not the reason why I went to the supermarket today, but since she was there and was offering one, I thought "Yeah, why not?" We've all seen the parents that live vicariously through their kids, and no matter how much we parody them, and spend hours educating ourselves and club members about spotting them and their borderline abusive behaviour, it still goes on. And it always will.

I suppose we need to ask more questions, because the importance of winning is often circumstantial, dependent upon a huge amount of variables. If you can't answer it with a yes or no, I would offer that you are not clear enough on your convictions or that the question is too vague.

Would you prefer to win your next game?
Is it more important to you than anything else in your life?
Would you rather die than lose?
Is winning more important than your health?
Do you feel significantly (difference between heroin and domestic abuse) better emotionally when you win?
Is winning the only thing you can think about?
Is there every grace is defeat?
Are you a sore loser?
Are you willing to sacrifice relationships to win?
Do you resort to cheating to win?
Have you ever lied about or embellished winning?
Is it the FA Cup final?
Will you or others die if you lose?

That may provide a little clarity as to your values when it comes to winning. Keep in mind that as humans are loss averse, we need two wins to make up for one loss. That's why we sometimes engineer wins by embellishing their importance, or overplaying our significance in them, sometimes by taking credit for the hard work and achievement of others. I think I've pretty much stopped referring to Rovers as 'We' and when someone says to me "you had a good result at the weekend" I instantly assume they mean the game that I coached.

So I can't provide anymore clarity on the subject, only that it is situational, and depends entirely upon how invested you are into the outcome. I remember Portsmouth winning the FA Cup in 2008, and suddenly everyone around here was a lifelong, devoted Pompey fan, blue through and through. I'd had plenty of conversations before when such people had informed me upon their negative feelings towards football, and how they could never be drawn into it. It's the feeling of winning that attracts us. These people wanted to be associated with winning. It was nothing to do with their feelings towards their local team, but entirely down to wanting to be caught up in the hype, and thus come off with a better reputation by proxy, rather than through actually earning it via any kind of merit.

The 2010 World Cup was another great example. The final, called one of the most boring of all time, was fairly boring. These games are so tense that they now keep on ending up 0-0 after 90 minutes. With the lack of goal mouth action, my friends and family, one-by-one, vacated the room. I found myself to be the only one left there watching it. Of course, I wanted to see some entertainment. I didn't care about either team. Nothing was happening. I just wanted goals. Where had my mates gone? To the kitchen, to play cards. To the defence of my friends, there were GIRLS there, and so socialising with them was more important than watching football. And as such, their priorities became clear. They were in the kitchen, penis measuring. The game on TV provided no means from which they could measure their penises, and thus they relocated to a new arena, and let the games begin. They couldn't win with the game on TV, and saw better odds somewhere else.

The importance of winning depends upon the stakes, the circumstances, the likelihood of winning, how much you personally value winning, and your own morals.

Do you want to win for you, or do you want to win for your ego?