Sportsmanship

Those watching the Olympics have seen a lot of variety in the sportsmanship displayed. Winners have experienced the "thrill of victory" and others have experienced the "agony of defeat." Then there have been responses you wouldn't have expected.

By now most have heard about the American snowboarder who had to leave the games early after a few compromising photos popped up. Then there was the controversy surrounding American skater Evan Lysacek. Lysacek had the skate of his life last Thursday, capturing a gold medal in the Men's Figure Skating competition. It was a moving, strong and graceful performance.

I'm not a figure skating expert — or even really a fan — but I watched Lysacek and the other contenders skate Thursday and was pretty confident his skate was the best. So were the judges. Russian skater Evgeni Plushenko felt differently. Plushenko, the reigning gold medalist, took silver Thursday but felt his signature move — something only he performs — was alone enough to put him in gold medal position. He said as much following the competition, intimating that Lysacek didn't deserve to win.

On Friday night, NBC's Bob Costas interviewed Lysacek, reading the comments and giving him a forum to fire back. Lysacek, displaying the gracefulness of an Olympic champion, refused. Sportsmanship isn't about winning or losing, it's about how you play the game. Lysacek played like a champion Friday, and it had nothing to do with the color of his medal.

When I was in college, that was a lesson I tried to impart to my intramural flag football team. It was a young team — mostly freshman and sophomores — and I was their coach. They were a talented group but lacked discipline, especially when it came to handling adversity. In the first game of the season, we were losing, and our quarterback expressed his frustration at his teammates, the officials and the opposition. I called a time out, benched him and we went on to lose by 28 points. Needless to say, I didn't have a lot of fans on our team at that point because it was clear we couldn't win without him on the field.

After the game I called a team meeting. I told the players huddled around that anyone — no matter how talented — that threw a tantrum on the field or cursed at an official would be out of the game. Period. I wanted to win, but more than that I wanted our team to show class on the field. We ended the season as a playoff team, falling in the semi-finals. But to me we were the best team in the league because, no matter what the situation, we played with class. Unfortunately, displays of sportsmanship and class aren't common in our world today, so when they happen it's all the more moving.

My favorite example of this happened at the Holiday Bowl in 2001. Major Applewhite was a senior at the University of Texas who'd lost his starting job to the hot shot, up-and-coming quarterback Chris Simms. In the Holiday Bowl, Simms was out so Applewhite came off the bench to lead Texas to victory, putting up monster numbers in the game. Following the game, the ESPN sideline reporter tracked him down, asking if he felt vindicated by being able to come in and show that the coaches made a mistake by putting him on the bench.

Applewhite was given a great opening to toot his own horn at the expense of his coaches and teammate. He earned that right with his performance on the field. I expected him to let the world know of his greatness. He didn't.

Instead Applewhite thanked God for allowing him to compete.

Sports isn't the only place where we need to display class and humility — and it certainly isn't the only place where we need to put God first. Jesus didn't reach the lost by swinging the hammer of righteousness and we won't either. There is a place for that, but if we follow Jesus' model we need to reach out to others in love. If we do that, imagine what we can accomplish.