Victory not always found in win column

You watch game film until your eyeballs become props in a Ben Stein eye drop commercial. You find yourself planning and practicing for hours, sacrificing family and self.

What do you get for it? Another heartbreak.

It’s enough for a coach to throw up his or her arms in despair and scream to the heavens about the futility of it all. How do you pull yourselves up after another fall, get back on that horse and be in the weight room on Monday fortified by another dose of hope?

There are numerous reasons why a person becomes a coach. Enduring loss after loss isn’t one of them. As one longtime coaching friend once put it, winning isn’t necessarily so great but the alternative feels so bad.

Half of all teams experience defeat, but some seem to endure the agony more often than others. For in certain instances, no matter how dedicated or able a prep coach is, extenuating circumstances render quixotic any attempt to resuscitate a moribund program.

Some endure. They remain positive because there is more to their job than winning. The calling is noble.

That thought crossed my mind after watching Ted Lyon absorb his 18th straight defeat as head football coach at Rogers. The cause of my angst and empathy was that in the two games I’d seen the Pirates play, the spirit was willing.

Mistakes put them in early holes and they could just as easily have given up, but against East Valley much of their 269 rushing yards came in the second half. Near game’s end against Shadle Park, the defense dropped Highlanders for losses on six plays. The team, despite the odds, continued to play hard.

The reality, however, is that three games into the season, Lyon is on his fourth quarterback and playing with an all-sophomore backfield – not the veteran QB and senior backs he’d envisioned – because of injuries.

It didn’t seem fair. But it’s not unique statewide in programs with similar demographics where programs are difficult to build.

Consider this: Dave Carson, who assisted former Rogers coach Dave Pomante for seven years, was part of only one winning season.

Now he is head coach at Gonzaga Prep, the metaphysical football yang to Rogers’ yin. The Bullpups have made six straight state playoff appearances. Carson is no better a coach than he was before, just “bountifully blessed.” His memories of coaching at Rogers are fond.

“I have a tremendous amount of loyalty to John Rogers,” he said, adding, “It was the most unique situation I’ve ever coached in.”

There were good coaches and good kids, but few wins. When a program struggles, he said, you take comfort in the small victories.

Pomante spent 20 years at Rogers, 12 as head coach, and is now at Whitworth. He was able to cope by convincing players they were winning, even if not winning on the scoreboard.

“We tried to create a perception of winning by doing things in the community, by community service,” he said. “Kids would come back and say keep doing what you’re doing, we learned a lot.”

He was buoyed by the friendships within his staff. But losing eventually wears on coaches who understand the reality. Some, like Pomante and most of his staff, luckily move on to successful programs. Others simply resign.

“You understand it’s not a reflection on you,” Carson said. “You don’t give up and keep persevering.”

Those who persevere, like Pomante, are motivated by the feeling they can make differences in other ways.

There is a certain kinship between winning and losing, consistent with the Chinese philosophy of yin and yang – defined as two primal opposing but complementary forces found in all things in the universe. There are similar pressures and stresses associated with the expectations for success and the pain of defeat.

Society emphasizes winning. Our heroes are defined by championships and tournament successes, the yang. But in our sports universe the other half of a game is about loss, the yin.

So cheer those coaches who bravely soldier on, even though, I’m just as certain, they’d give anything to trade their yins for some wins.