I’ve always considered myself a winner. Others may view me as arrogant or cocky for saying this, and they’re probably right. I was raised in a family full of athletes and successful business owners, so I always figured I would find a way to succeed. Which I do most of the time. Succeeding brings me validation from parents and coaches, but when I fail I’ve always taken it personally. I let it bring me down, affecting the way I view myself.  This has been reoccurring since I was very young. Everyone knows or has seen that one crybaby kid bawling over making a simple mistake or losing a stupid game. As anyone could probably guess, that was me. Eventually, I did grow out of it but, this was a result of putting immense pressure on myself by continuously thinking winning is the most important thing.

In our most recent tennis season, I had a pretty good year. I played consistently at the top of our lineup and was a strong singles player, especially for a freshman. This boosted my ego and made me feel unbeatable. When I went on the court I knew even if I didn’t beat them today, I would eventually. As our team season came to a close with a devastating team and individual loss, I was ready and knew I would make a statement at the upcoming individual sections. 

Individuals in our section is some of the toughest competition in the state. It was my opportunity to prove my worth as a tennis player by winning my way to a spot at state. Coming back from the year before, I now had experience; I was sent to individuals our 2021 season as an eighth grader, and seeing where I was now compared to then gave me overwhelming confidence. Although I was self-assured,  I knew my shot at going to state in singles was slim. This is why I decided to play in doubles with our top singles player. We both had good seasons and had experience with other potential doubles teams awaiting us. After this was determined, there was no shot we wouldn’t make it to state.

We showed up to individuals anxiously waiting for the seeding we were about to receive. Unexpected news on the ride up however was not so great, we found out many other singles players decided to stack their doubles as well. This made for an extremely difficult doubles bracket and a somewhat weak singles bracket. While this wasn’t ideal, my teammate and I were still optimistic. After a short while, we were seeded, and it couldn’t have been better. We were put against a team of seniors who we had both already played and won against. We had this in the bag and were for sure coming back tomorrow. 

Soon after introductions, we were off. After losing a game in serving it was our turn to receive. Anyone could see our lack of communication, whether it was in our volleying or misplaced groundstrokes it was clear we were falling short. Serves were missed and points were lost. This is how it was for six straight games with us losing six to zero in the first set. 

As we were sitting down awaiting the second set quitting never crossed my mind but I was discouraged and very frustrated. It’s hard to realize mid-match that our weaknesses resulted from our play as singles players and lack of teamwork. This was only the second match we had played together since I was a freshman and she was a senior. On the other side of the net, were two seniors who had been playing doubles together since middle school. Realization starts to hit me. While sipping on my water and listening to the encouragement of my coaches, I start to believe we are the underdogs. Even though we had the higher seed, they had the experience and were playing to have fun. Not to win. 

After some motivation from coaches and a much needed water break, the second set was about to begin. My lackluster mentality returns, telling me I needed to win, and although it sounds dumb I was still expecting to. Even after realizing why we were losing, I didn’t care. I was mad. I was more focused on pounding the ball and my ongoing fear of losing rather than adjusting my play, but even then I still figured if we have beat them individually we can beat them now. That approach didn’t work. As anyone could expect, our same play from the first set carried over to the second. We were now down four to zero in the second set, two games away from being sent home. 

Pent-up frustration and doubt were building from stupid mistakes. Everyone could see it too, I was practically wearing my emotions. My body language was extremely poor, this could be observed by little things like reactions after a bad point or angrily snatching my water at breaks. While going through these emotions of frustration I walk over to our side of the court ready for a break. My partner and I soon sit down, huffing and puffing from our previous game. I sit thinking about how we could turn this around as we wait for our coaches. I then look over at my teammate and the score; that’s when I start to fully grasp this could be her last match ever and I was still only focused on the result and nothing more. I know she was frustrated too we were both competitive. We could still win this though, not just to get a medal or a shot at state, but to make the most out of playing with an amazing teammate I’ve always looked up to.

After a quick mindset change, things started to turn around. We found ways to make singles strategies our strengths and made the most out of every point. The comeback was quick and I knew we were back in this. Little things started going our way, like our serves and net coverage. Fighting for every point like it was our last, savoring the time with my teammate, and having fun; this is how we came back and took the lead in the second set five to four. 

The intensity was high, my teammate and I knew we had a shot at this and quickly started to gain more confidence. We fought hard going back and forth each game working for every point; this was how we ended up at six to six in the second set. It was time for a tie-breaker. Nerves were practically pouring out of me just thinking about these final points and about what they meant to not only me but my teammate as well. There was tentative play on both sides playing it safe on groundstrokes and volleys. No one dared to mess up. Although it was still close, mistakes and the opponent's good shots put us in a not-so-good position. 

We were caught receiving while down by three on their match point, not a good situation to be in. One good serve and our season was over. Luckily my teammate and I managed to fend off the first two points, slowly creeping back fighting for a third set. The advantage of serving was now given to us with the next server, my teammate being up. While she gets prepared I make my way up to position and wait. Suddenly I hear the boom of the ball hitting the racket and watch the serve bounce in. Almost immediately after I fend off a ball returning it to my opponents. It was then sent back to my teammate who did the same. Before I knew it I saw a ball fly past my right, hitting alley and my partner chasing after it. She had no shot. Watching the ball's second bounce hit the ground felt like an eternity.

In the blink of an eye, our season was over. Emotions full of regret and sorrow overflow my body but were kept contained until after shaking hands. My body then bursts, tears leave my eyes and sobs fill my throat. All I could think about was how could I let this happen and what my future held, without valuable teammates such as my doubles partner I didn’t know what we would do. After drowning in my sorrows I’m brought back by someone hard to face, my teammate. We reassured each other we wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else while holding each other in a hug. Even after losing a big match and being overwhelmed with many emotions my teammate still made me realize there is more to a sport than just winning. 

While having confidence in myself is awesome, I shouldn’t have let it get to my head and overwhelm my mentality with just the result of winning. Playing a sport isn’t only about winning but also losing and spending time with amazing people I have the opportunity to call teammates. I have always felt the pressure I put on myself from wanting to succeed, and trust me it’s still there, but now I see there is so much more to it than that. My identity and who I am is so much more than just being a winner and I shouldn’t let any loss define the way I view myself. Even though winning is great and can give the exhilarating feeling of being on top of the world, losing is also necessary and bound to happen. Losing can sometimes be the only way to get taught valuable lessons, such as cherishing coaches, teammates, or whoever it may be before they’ve already said their goodbyes. When put into perspective, the result of losing can be just what you need to become a winner.