END OF SEASON DISAPPOINTMENT

I came across a GREAT read this morning from a post by Sefu bernard at PGC Basketball regarding player disappointment and felt it was definitely worth sharing.  Here are some excerpts from the post (it's a letter from a player to a coach, asking for some advice, along with the coach's response).  The entire post is located here.
--------------

"...I’m writing to share with you some feelings I’ve been having since my season came to an end.  Perhaps part of it is knowing that I’ll never get the chance to play competitive basketball with some of my teammates ever again.  Perhaps part of it is just missing spending time with the guys in the locker room, or out at team dinner.  Either way, it’s been a tough pill to swallow for me.  This year it just felt as if the dream and the goal of winning the State Championship had kind of slipped through our hands, and it was really just two games away…and the fact that I think this was our best shot, is maybe irrational, but something that makes it harder.

It’s tough to really get it all out there on the page, but that’s about the best I can do as far as explaining my thoughts for now. Any words would be greatly appreciated."

(Coach's response)

"First off, congrats on a GREAT season.  I say “great” not because of your record or how far you got (or didn’t get) in the playoffs.  The ‘congrats’ is because (based on your email and on what I know about who you are) you gave this basketball season, your team, your coaches, your school, and yourself the very best you had to give.  I realize that may sound hollow to you in this moment, but one day, when your career is over, I promise you that this will be the one thing you will be most proud of, and it’s what will give you the most peace about your career, no matter how many championships you win or don’t win.

But for now, I can totally understand and relate to everything you have said.  I’ve been there.  More than once…

• My senior year of high school, we lost in the game to go to “State” (a big deal in Texas because only 4 teams go). My goal since 6th grade was to win a state championship. I was devastated.
• One of the main reasons I went to the University of Virginia was to win a national championship. My sophomore year of college, after being ranked #1 most of the season, we lost to Tennessee in overtime of the national championship game. Devastated again.
• My junior year, again after being ranked #1 all season, we lost in DOUBLE OT of the national semi-finals to Stanford. Once again…devastated.
• My senior year, after all the best players on our team had graduated and I had become the unquestioned team leader, we played as the underdog all year. We made it all the way to the Elite 8 and lost to Ohio State in the game to go back to the Final Four when my coach called time out just as I was releasing the game-winning 3-pointer. I hit nothing but net as the buzzer sounded, but it was waived off because the ref said my coach called the time out with .7 seconds on the clock. That was the way my college career ended. Devastated times a thousand.

Unless you’re the team that wins the last game of the season, I have never been able to figure out how to feel anything *but* sadness and disappointment at the end of a season, at least for a while.

I think you just need to allow yourself time to grieve.  The word “grieve” may sound crazy because I know it’s not like anybody died or there was any great “tragedy.”  But you *have* suffered a profound loss.  Your season (which you cared deeply about) is over; you will never play on this particular team (which you gave so much of yourself to for so many months) again; and you will never be high school teammates with some of those guys again (and those kinds of bonds are rare and special and hard to replicate in the “real world”).

People who have never experienced those kinds of losses can never understand just how much all of that hurts.  You gave yourself completely to something, and it didn’t turn out like you wanted.  And to make it even worse, now it’s gone.  Over.  Done.  That’s hard and it hurts.

Everything you’re feeling right now is appropriate and even good.  Don’t resist it.  Be sad.  Be disappointed…Until you’re not anymore (and it will go away, I promise).  And then, you will do what every great athlete and every great hero does…you will pick yourself up, dust yourself off, dream your next dream, and you’ll go at it again…even though you know the risk and how much it will hurt when it’s over.  But really, that’s the only way to fly in my opinion.  Way more fun, exciting, meaningful, and fulfilling than living a life where you play small and never put your heart on the line for anything that matters to you.

And one last thing…while winning a championship *would* feel really sweet and could be incredibly rewarding, the truth is that even THAT feeling will pass after a few weeks or even days.  And then you would STILL have to feel the sadness and disappointment of not playing with some of your teammates again and of not ever having this particular team together again.  So don’t fall into the trap of believing that winning a championship will make you not have to feel the pain of the ending of something you love.  Granted, it would make it a lot easier and is the preferable way to end a season.  But what’s *more* important is always that you gave your best in every moment, regardless of whether or not you were fortunate enough to be on the team that won the last game of the season.

(Thanks Sefu Bernard and PGC Basketball)