…The agony of defeat. The Bulldogs 11-yr-old “blue” team went down 6-28 against West Islip yesterday. What hurt especially was that the opposition played no better than we’ve been playing the past few weeks, somewhat worse if anything. It wasn’t so much they that won the game as we that lost. Everybody knew this, but had it yelled into their ears by Coach anyway at game end.

Danny was particularly upset because he messed up a key tackle on our 20-yd line, costing us 8 points. He really should have had his man, but just grabbed at him instead of going low. Everyone else on the team screwed up one way or another too, but of course it’s the knowledge of your own particular screw-ups that hurts. Danny’s past the age when he’s willing to let anyone see him cry, but it was a battle against tears for a couple of hours after the game. I took him to Dunkin Donuts & did by best with fatherly words of wisdom, but it didn’t help much. I didn’t rub salt in the wound, anyway–I figure that’s Coach’s job. Mine is to apply salve.

These are all life lessons, though, and that’s what being 11 years old is all about–learning stuff. Danny’s resilient though. He was chirpy again by evening. Going to bed, though, he said: “That was a terrible day.” Me: “You’ll have worse.”