Yesterday, was a big day in my life.
I have always hated losing. It’s part of being good at sports, you hate to lose. Especially when you should win. Which you always should (or so you expect). Crazy, I know.
When I was a kid, losing would be followed by a lot of tears, tantrums and refusal to eat food. Refusal to do anything, really. This changed a little as I grew older. In my teenage years, loses would be followed by a more open, uninhibited display of emotions. I would scream in frustration at myself and the world in general, I would slam the ball on the ground (if the sport involved balls) and I would throw the racket around (if the sport involved rackets. Or bats, if it was cricket). Once my vocabulary got enriched, I wouldn’t shy away from throwing a few expletives here and there either (subject to my parents not being around). I would lose what little concentration I had, and go home with a few more bad loses.
Yesterday was one such day, when I did not play very well. As a result, my team kept losing. Grunts of joy and celebration from the opposition team each time did not help my mood either.
What surprised me was this. I did not do any of the things I described above. No display of anger, no tantrums, no bat throwing. In fact, I managed to channel this into my performance for the first time in my life. In one of the games, I managed to single handedly help my team win by bowling brilliantly and orchestrating a run out when the opposition team needed 2 runs to win of 2 balls.
I was shocked. Pleasantly shocked. I do not know how this transformation happened, but it was a very happy revelation for me. I was exalted to realize that I have finally gained control over my emotions and I have learnt how to channel them.
A win of the mind over the heart that was always worn on the sleeve.