Something's gotta give it your best shot

Ken: Age 4
Sporting 3D glasses

Ken here -- at age four -- not-so-proud to report a recent self-realization. I am a poor sport. Yes, it's true. I just like to win. And when I am not the first to cross the finish line, I feel very little joy. You name it:

Candy Land.

Memory.

Slap Jack.

Go Fish.

The Keep-The-Balloon-Up-In-The-Air-game.

I just want to be the best.

This drive to win carries with it certain measurements of success. Candy Land, for example, sports the icons of victory. The cupcake, the Popsicle, the lollipop -- all of these picks earn you a faster trajectory to the castle. The best card to pick, however, is the bon bon. More commonly known at our house as the Cinnabun, drawing the card that pictures the golden brown fluff with white icing virtually guarantees first to finish. I try to keep my competitive juices at bay, but at times, emotional outbursts abound. Last week, Georgia drew the Cinnabun, and I actually said aloud: "The Cinnabun! Ak! I have to go faster!"  To divulge such a strategy so early in the game all but garanteed my demise. 

I digress.

Georgia: Age 1
Balloons and static!

Mom tells me that I come by this competitive spirit honestly. Dad -- ever the steadier of the rocked boat -- smiles and agrees. Despite my natural tendencies, I am a nice guy. I simply like to be first, best and at the top of my game. Who can fault me for that? 

Recognizing that her eldest apple has not fallen far from the tree, Mom regularly reminds me that no person wants to play with a poor sport. And, not every game needs a winner. Such talk. Nonetheless, Mom has proven her wisdom in the past, and I've promised her that I'd give this good sportsmanship thing a try. Now, I practice phrases like, "I'll give it my best shot," and "Good job Sam -- you won!" I even shook Georgia's hand yesterday and said "Good game." Whew! I have to say, it has improved the game-time atmosphere among the siblings.

Sam: Age 3
At the park

Here's the thing, my loyal readers: In my effort to recognize that winning isn't everything, I am also learning the importance of trying. And failing. And trying again. In my past quests for perfection -- drive for first -- I'd exercise caution -- shy away from new challenges. My inner monologue would whisper, What if someone is better at this than you? What if you don't do it right? Such talk. It's time to shove that voice aside and give it my best shot. For, to be perfect the first time prevents us from learning the real lesson, from acquiring our true character.

And so, here's to giving it a go. Here's to trying and failing and trying again. Here's to attaining your personal best -- and remembering to be a good sport along the way. Because, every game needs a player, but not every game needs a winner. (Although, it's still pretty sweet to pick the Cinnabun.)

Until next time, 

Ken