A Costly Failure, An Impressive Life Lesson

This past weekend was a momentous one for pro football fans, especially around here since the Philadelphia Eagles stomped their fellow NFC finalist the San Francisco 49ers to punch their ticket to Super Bowl 57. It’ll be all the talk of the town for the next couple of weeks, and potentially beyond if a win and a parade ensues.

But I want to talk about the other game, and a prominent failure, and a poignant life lesson that emerged from that moment. In the closing seconds of a tied game, with the home team Kansas City Chiefs desperately trying to get close enough to attempt a game-winning field goal, star QB Patrick Mahomes broke out of the pocket and, finding no one downfield to throw to, hobbled his way forward (to get closer) and to the sideline (to stop the clock).

Just as he stepped out of bounds, he was shoved by Cincinnati Bengals defensive end Joseph Ossai and sent sprawling (which Mahomes almost certainly embellished by “flopping”). This was an obvious “late hit” penalty, which did not put Mahomes in physical peril but did gift the Chiefs 15 critical yards, turning a desperation field goal attempt into a makeable one, which ultimately gave the Chiefs the win and sent the Bengals to a cruel “what if” off-season.

To make matters worse, Ossai appeared to have injured his knee on the play. But his immediate tears were not from physical pain but from his momentary lapse of on-field awareness which appeared to have cost his team a chance to play in the Super Bowl. Minutes later, when interviewed, he owned his mistake and relayed that his teammates and his coach had rallied around him (including one player who sat with him during what must have been a painful and otherwise lonely press conference).

Sports are such a spectacle in our country. To borrow an old catchy phrase, in these contest the players (and the fans who are along for the ride) may experience the “thrill of victory” or the “agony of defeat.” We fete the heroes, and in some cases they become literal legends that we speak of for the rest of our lives.

The goats, of course, are not so lucky. Sometimes we are empathetic. And sometimes we are enraged. Part of being a successful athlete is physical, to be sure. But I would argue that most of it is mental. It is rare to possess the physical skills to compete at an elite level. But it is even rarer to have that, and to possess the mental fortitude to meet failure head-on: putting yourself out there knowing you could fail, and “manning up” when you do fail.

From where I’m sitting, I’m so impressed with Ossai’s response in the midst of what must have been excruciating anguish, especially in a team sport and with so much riding on the line. Think of everything that transpired in response to his mistake:

• He felt his failure deeply
• He owned it without excuse or blame-shifting
• He connected his feeling bad with having let down his teammates
• He expressed that his teammates and his coach picked him up
• He committed to learning from the mistake and doing better next time 

In life, we may not be in a similar position to fail so spectacularly and publicly. But life is similarly full of opportunities to fall on our face and cause pain to ourselves and others, sometimes in ways that cannot be undone. 

Many of us are terrified by this possibility. We are not even on the field. Or we play but we take no chances. Or we absolve ourselves of responsibility and shift the blame to someone else. Or we put ourselves out there yet as soon as we feel uncomfortable (let alone make a mistake), we withdraw. Or, having failed, we take our ball home and never come back. Which is your right. But much of life is for participating, not spectating. 

Ossai, and the Bengals, will be back. That’s what professionals do. I tip my hat to him and to all his teammates who stuck up for him and rallied around him. And I tip my hat to all athletes who have failed, which is to say all athletes, and to all of you who put yourself out there in similar ways.