The Streak

 When it was all over, my friend and colleague confided to me that he had recently uncovered his kindergarten report card in which his PE teacher had written praise for his athletic abilities but, "he needs to learn to be more gracious when he loses." This was pertinent to the moment in which, after years of taking on the fifth graders in various versions of kickball and winning, the teachers finally lost. 

For their part, the kids were mostly gracious and respectful in their triumph. With a few notable exceptions. As their PE teacher over the past six years, I have a pretty good handle on which ones will be what we traditionally refer to as "good sports," and which ones are "not so good sports." The most apparent instance I can point to was the moment when I noticed that my walkie-talkie had fallen from the clip on my belt as I rounded second base. I turned to find a kid holding it and in a loud and clear presentation voice he was hollering into it, "Imagine losing!" 

Points for vehemence and cleverness. 

As the game wore on, it became apparent that the teachers and staff were simply outnumbered by the fifth graders. I took some measure of quiet pride in the knowledge that I had helped create this beast that was on the brink of doing something that had not been done in years. I taught them teamwork, and who would have imagined that they would rise to this occasion just in time to show us old folks up? 

Instead, the grownups were the ones screeching, "That's not fair!" The game and its rules were known going in, and the advantage was squarely with the group that had more chances to get more bases, and somewhere in the middle of all the commotion it was the teachers who started to complain about the way things were turning out. 

When the bell rang and it was time for everyone to go home, the fifth graders had won. Fair and square. Which did not sit well with all the folks on the losing side. I found myself asking a group of adults, "Did anyone have any fun?" Some nods, some hands raised. "If you had fun, then you won." The refrain I give to every heartbroken fifth grader in years past and at recess or in PE class or whenever competition is involved. We all tried our best. That was the important thing. 

I didn't tell my friend that I consider it a supreme irony that I find myself teaching Physical Education in what might be referred to as my golden years. When I was in fifth grade, I was looking forward to a time when the embarrassment I tended to experience on a regular basis when running, jumping, kicking or climbing was involved would be in the past. I learned to be a "good sport" very early on. Winning was something other kids did. I participated. 

Which is pretty much what I did last Friday along with my fellow teachers and staff. Can I imagine losing? Yes. I can. But I know there will be another day, another game. I plan to continue to participate.