The Award We Didn’t Win

By Barbara Anderson

We won the championship game but went home disappointed.

Softball season was approaching, and we had just enough girls in our ward for a team. Our coach, Sister Bowman, was a busy mother who had been asked to make an unlikely group of girls into a team. Sister Bowman turned out to be the best coach I ever had.

At the first practice, Sister Bowman went over the rules of the game. Then she laid out the “new rules.” She said, “This year we will not only be scored for our runs; we will also be scored for our sportsmanship. I want you to do your best. But win or lose, I want you to have the highest sportsmanship score possible at every game.”

Sister Bowman’s rules went something like this:

1. Before each game, greet the opposing team and wish them luck.

2. If a girl on your team makes an error, encourage her. Do not criticize.

3. If a member of your team or the opposing team falls down, help her up and make sure she’s all right.

4. Do not say unkind things to any member of your team or the opposing team.

5. Each girl who shows up for the game will have an opportunity to play, regardless of her ability.

6. Win or lose, enthusiastically cheer the opposing team and shake each competitor’s hand.

Sister Bowman regularly emphasized these rules.

The first game went well. Though we weren’t the best players in the world, we discovered that encouraging each other boosted the confidence and abilities of the entire team. When we won that first game, we found it was easy to cheer the opposing team. After all, it’s easy to be a good sport when you win.

Our real test came the first time we lost. One of the girls cried because she felt responsible for our loss. We gathered around her and assured her it was all right. We were surprisingly enthusiastic as we cheered the winning team and shook their hands. Even though we lost, we realized we’d had fun. Most importantly, our sportsmanship score was high.

As the season progressed, our focus shifted. We liked winning, but we became as interested in our sportsmanship scores as we were in the game scores. What started as a list of rules was becoming second nature to us.

At the end of the season when the stake leaders reviewed our record—games won as well as sportsmanship scores—we were the stake champions. We would be representing our stake at the regional playoffs.

When the big day arrived, we were ready to play our best. The team we were playing was undefeated, and when we went over to wish them luck, they didn’t seem as friendly as the other teams we had played. As the game progressed we began to realize that these girls were not playing by our rules. It seemed to us that they intended to win at any cost. They laughed at us. They ran into us and knocked us down every chance they got. If one of the girls on their team made an error, they yelled at her and called her names. Even their coach was yelling at them.

In the dugout Sister Bowman continued to encourage us, and we hung in there. Near the end of the game, and only one point behind, we were up to bat. With runners on, we had a hit. One of our teammates came around third base and headed for home plate. In an attempt to keep us from scoring, the catcher stood across home plate. But her efforts didn’t prevent our runner from crossing home plate safe. The score was tied.

Our team was excited, but then we noticed that our teammate was still at home plate. She didn’t get up. She just sat there crying and holding her ankle, which had been cut by the catcher’s cleat. The girls on the other team were too busy yelling at each other to apologize or help her up.

As our injured friend sat on the bench, we scored another run and to everyone’s astonishment, including our own, won the game.

We gathered on the grass for the awards ceremony. First we received our medals for winning the playoffs, then waited for the next award. We were excited. The sportsmanship medal, the award we had worked so hard for all season, was within our grasp!

But we sat in shock as the sportsmanship medal was awarded to the other team. Our faces fell. Our hearts sank. How could this be? We felt we had earned that medal! Had the region leaders felt they could not send the other team home empty-handed? This turned out to be the greatest test of what we had practiced all season. Could we show true sportsmanship by graciously accepting this decision, despite our disappointment? It was difficult, to say the least.

Afterward, Sister Bowman took us out for pizza to celebrate our “victory.” Any casual observer would never have guessed that we had just won the region softball championship.

I still have that medal. I keep it in a box with other treasured keepsakes. It reminds me of what we won. More important, it reminds me of what we deserved to win and of the lessons Sister Bowman taught me that summer. She taught me how to compete and still have fun. She taught me that everyone has value. She taught me that winning is not, and should never be, the most important thing. I suppose she taught me the true meaning of the saying “It’s not whether you win or lose; it’s how you play the game.” That philosophy, I have found, applies in life as well as in softball.

Illustrated by Dilleen Marsh