There’s a lot to learn from getting your butt kicked.
Unfortunately, I appear to be in the minority in my belief.
Estero High School’s football team in Florida was drilled, 91-0, by nearby Naples this past Friday.
The score — not even the most lopsided reported in the country this year, let alone the weekend, where in Ohio, Beechcroft defeated Centennial, 96-0 — has created an uproar about when enough is enough in high school athletics.
But for Estero, that’s 13 touchdowns worth of tough love — not embarrassment.
Growing up in central Pennsylvania, high school football wasn’t just something fun to do — it was a way of life.
My two most vivid memories are on opposite ends of the spectrum: a 27-24 win on Senior Day in my final game, and a 70-0 loss to state powerhouse and perennial title contender Manheim Central.
The “epic” loss was the worst of my high school career and was the low point of our second consecutive 1-9 season.
But if my teammates and I didn’t have it to use as motivation heading into the next season — the reason to wake up and drive to the gym to lift weights, to attend optional workouts on hot afternoons — we might never have had a memorable senior year.
We turned the hardwork into results and finished 7-3, capped with the perfect ending: We rallied from a 21-7 deficit and scored on fourth-and-goal from the 1-yard line to win the game in overtime.
The Maryland Public Secondary Schools Athletic Association’s resolution, adopted by the State Board of Education in 1991, says high school athletics “is essential to promote healthful living, character building and good citizenship through competitive sports.”
And what builds — or reveals —character more than adversity?
Personal growth is why I am against a mercy rule in high school athletics that ends the game before time runs out. I have no problem with a running clock. In Maryland, if a football team is up by 35 points in the second half, the clock only stops on timeouts.
What angers me is when athletic directors and parents propose to call the game at halftime, and allow junior varsity players to simply scrimmage in a scoreless second half.
How does telling players they aren’t even good enough to compete with the starters make them feel? The mindset that has dumbed down youth leagues, in which the score is often times not kept, is creeping into prep sports.
God forbid children get their feelings hurt — they might just learn something.
I feel for the kids on Estero and Centennial’s teams. It’s embarrassing and they won’t ever forget the way it feels.
But the wonderful thing about athletics is often times, you get a second chance, a shot at redemption. On Monday, those football teams did the same thing they did every other Monday — put on their pads, get their new scouting reports and practice.
It takes character to show up and wear that jersey, knowing hard work might not be enough to win next week or the week after that or the week after that.
But simply persevering reveals plenty about the character of those young men.
And they can play on my team any day.
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