That Loser’s a Winner
Barstool Philosopher says losing with style is key to the good live
John Scoles
I don’t know about you, but when my stories stop, so do
I.
No stories, no-body.
I’m just a cup — or maybe I should say a shot glass
— full of nothing but tell.
No wonder I lose at poker, which reminds me of another aspect
of great leisure: sportsmanship.
I’m somewhat of a carny. I run a little game of skill and
chance called The Chicken Toss. This ain’t Texas, and my
game ain’t chickenshit bingo (see www.ginnyslittlelonghorn.com
for more on that), but what do you want for a buck in a one-horse
town? The Chicken Toss is a chance to learn a little about humility
and pro sports without having to watch TV or stick a needle in
your ass.
There’s a film professor at the University of Manitoba who
is more of a mental than a physical athlete — his name is
George Toles — and he told me once that to write you need
to be able to tell on yourself. I think that’s sportsmanship.
I’d like to follow that by admitting that I secretly like
to lose at gambling — but just a little. Just enough to
keep me humble.
Don’t get me wrong, though. I like to win. But you learn
more about what life is really about when you’re not the
best or the loudest or the most loaded, no matter what kind of
game you’re playing.
It’s like when Hank Williams sang, “No matter how
I struggle and strive, I’ll never get out of this world
alive.” Hank was obviously a man who understood how to tell
on himself beautifully, and how to lose the biggest game of all
with serious style. Competition is fine, but losing with class
is where the real action is.
I think an interesting story would be a collection of interviews
with people who lost big games — the Super Bowl, the World
Series of Poker. It would be fascinating to hear their stories
about how the losses affected them. It’s one thing to endure
being a half-assed weekend golfer, but it’s quite another
to be good enough to be second in the world at something —
but never first. It definitely takes sportsmanship to handle that
kind of situation.
It’s nice to have stories about winning, but it’s
also important to be able to enjoy and talk about losing. The
battle cry of the Chicken Toss is “No shame!” for
good reason. Great playing always involves taking some chances,
and those kinds of risks often lead to being exposed as more of
a chump than a champion.
It’s kind of like telling on yourself, admitting that you
ain’t so great after all and being OK with it.
Fair play and sportsmanship mean taking the time to listen to
people. People need to expose themselves (so to speak) in order
to fully tell their stories, and don’t forget that you might
need them to listen to you one day. They are your fellow players,
after all.
Be nicer to them, damn it. They’ll like you better when
you it’s your turn to win.
John Scoles is president and janitor of Times Change(d) High &
Lonesome Club. |