Things you never hear at a post-game press conference ...

The coach could not, of course, accept the loss as anything but a loss. There is no such thing as a moral victory. His job is to produce wins, his success is measured in wins, he cannot coach his players to do anything else but win. I get that.

But I cannot help but see there a danger that modern sports reflects on our society, an us-vs.-them win-at-all-costs trash-talking rivalry-driven mentality which has escaped the playing field and is starting to dominate everything from our politics to our churches. I’m talking about a way of looking at life, as if it could be boiled down in the end to a win-loss record. As if.

I say this as a sports fan, but also as a person who seeks faith: there is more to life than winning.

And I think that anyone who has actually lived a life should know that.

Life is rich and complex. It has victories, sure, but losses as well. The great and self-destructive myth is an undefeated life. Not that perfection isn’t a worthy goal – Jesus called his disciples to be perfect “as your heavenly Father is perfect!” (Matthew 5:48). But who ever is? No, we are all the sum of some wins and some losses, and of all kinds of moments that are somewhere in between.

For surely the majority of our experience does not easily count itself as win or loss. I think that most of our days are some of both, our accomplishments neither complete success nor utter defeat. I find life to be a constant tango of steps forward and back, and that the whole of me is no more determined by the good things which I’ve done than by the bad. In fact, I think it’s a tie.

I think that may be ok.

For this is the real devil here – the presumption that we must either conquer or be conquered, that unless we defeat all comers we have no value, that each loss is a permanent shame. Here is a godly desire to do well now twisted by sin into anger, enmity, and many kinds of violence, against self and others, so we are no longer striving to be like our heavenly father, but seeking after a much harsher kind of lord. Such is a real loss.

Can we not raise a generation that knows how to lose? Too many of our children cannot accept loss with grace, cannot learn from it and grow from it, cannot rejoice for their conqueror and find, finally, the joy of the game itself. Too many cannot win graciously, cannot carry the day and bring others with, too many do not know the meaning of mercy and humility. Sports should be a tool for raising a better people – competitors who thrive whether they win or lose.

We surely need more of that outside the sporting field. Perhaps we could start by teaching more of it on the field.

On the stadium in Lincoln are carved the words, “Not the victory but the action; Not the goal but the game; In the deed the glory.” Those words have been on that stadium longer than the 300 game sellout streak, they have seen championships come and go with losing seasons interspersed, and have overlooked countless millions of fans and players alike with their eternal wisdom. They are why players shake hands before and after the game, why fans cheer for the opposing team at the end of the day, why we come there at all. Not to win, but just to play. Because football, not unlike life, is just a game.

Sometimes you lose. And that’s ok.

You see, the victory has already been won. What we do here and now, every good work, every hard-fought victory, is but a vague shadow of that eternal triumph. And in that promise is our opportunity to play better at the game simply for the sake of playing better, while it lasts, to know joy and hope and face each challenge with grit and grace.

Surely that is the better reason to play at all.