Is Competition on the Sports Field a Good Thing?

I just need to close my eyes and I can remember the heart thud I used to have on track & field day as a child. The dread that my parents might run in the parents race, the fear I might come in last, the hope that I might win; the anticipation as we waited for the races to start and then running like the clappers to the finish line. The prize at my humble school was a simple gold, silver or sticker, but it meant the world to those competing and winners would display them with pride for days afterwards.

So when I was invited to my daughter's elementary school track & field day, I was keen to attend. I was interested to see how she would react to competitiveness and eager to cheer her on. I gave her the pep talk the evening before about competing -- the usual how to be a good loser and a good winner; she looked at me blankly. I assumed her nonchalance was due to self-confidence. So I left her to it, thinking sagely to myself that pride comes before a fall, but I would be there to pick up the pieces when she lost for the first time.

The next morning I arrived at the school, slightly nervous for my offspring. As I approached the field, I saw obstacle courses, soccer goals and bean bags all laid out. OK, so a modern event, I thought to myself, I can deal with that. I found my daughter and gave her a quick hug.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Fine."

"Are you looking forward to the running races?"

She laughed at me.

"We don't do running races on track and field day, silly."

Ok.

"Well remember what I told you about being a good winner and a good loser?"

She laughed.

"Don't be silly, you don't win on track & field day."

And with that she ran off to "race" with a bean bag on her head.

No winners on track & field day? Darwin would be turning in his grave right now. Surely the very definition of "racing" is a competition to see who is the fastest, and there has to be a winner.

Now please don't misunderstand me. I am a product of my generation, my university days were in the 90's with the emergence of right-on Blair/Clintonism and soft Left politics. I positively encourage my children to be individuals and do believe that in the classroom all children should have equal opportunity and attention from their teacher.

But just as it is my duty to encourage my children to reach for the moon and to grasp every opportunity coming their way, it is also my duty to teach them that it is OK to fail at things -- we can't all be good at everything. I also strongly believe that you can learn so much more from losing than winning. So from my point of view, every child should win and know how that feels, but likewise, every child should experience losing. After all, this teaches empathy and also an inner self-confidence that means they can brush themselves down and try again. It teaches them what it's like to be human.

I stood at the side of the race track and cheered my daughter (and all the other children -- it is, apparently, unseemly to will one's own child to win a race that can't be won) and watched as she balanced the bean bag on her head, very badly.

With no sense of urgency, or objective, the children walked (or ran) and I stood, feeling a little disgruntled. At the end of the morning, I was surrounded by happy children and an ecstatic daughter. That was so much fun, she enthused. We loved it, they cheered. There were no tears from bitter losers, just happy faces.

So I am left in a bit of a quandary. My head says that this is nonsense and that children need to be competitive and that the sports field is the best place for this. My heart says, surely it is more important that they all just have fun and aren't sat in front of a TV day in, day out.

There is talk in the playground of complaints, "bring back the traditional track & field day," the mothers at the school gate grumble. "Bring back the parents race," another cries. Others shake their heads and say how nice it was that Johnny didn't lose every race again this year. It had all seemed too clear-cut, now I'm not quite so sure.