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- Gold medal, no silver linings | 3 min read
Gold medal, no silver linings | 3 min read
Why winning felt like losing
Hey Champ
Happy Sunday. The NHL playoffs kicked off last night.
Of the 0.025% of kids that make the NHL, less than 20% win the cup.
And even if you do win, sometimes it can feel like you lost.
The story
My son won the hockey championships
On Saturday, he played in net. Opposite him, in the other net, was the league's best goalie. As the coach, I knew this was going to be hard. As a goalie parent, my heart was in my throat. Near the end of the 2nd period, a player on their team fired a shot. My son got a piece of it with his glove, and the puck fluttered over his head before landing in the net behind him. He was crushed.
In response, our team turned it on.
With 4 minutes to go, our player charged up the ice, deked past two defenders, cut to the front of the net, and slid the puck past the goalie. Our bench and the fans in the stands erupted with joy.
That same goal-scoring kid drew a penalty with a minute to go in the game. We went into overtime going to battle with 3 players to their 4. Another one of our players picked up a puck off the boards, charged up the wing, and fired a shot to the far upper right of the net, scoring. We won! The kids jumped onto the ice, threw their helmets, sticks and gloves, and hugged in celebration.
And that was the semi-final.
On Sunday, we won 6-0 in the championship game.

A gift from a parent to the coaches
The car ride home is a critical moment in youth sports
The advice: Focus on what they did well. Celebrate the moments. This is not the time for corrections, adjustments, or armchair coaching from a parent.
Our car ride home: On Saturday, my son’s focus was on how he let the goal in. I told him he got a piece of it. I told him the team needed it, and he held them off for the rest of the game.
On championship Sunday, he played as a forward. My family (mom, dad, brother with his wife and 2 kids), my wife’s family (mom, sister + 2 kids, brother + 2 kids) were in attendance
Ben complained he didn't get enough ice time and didn't score. With 60 seconds to go in the final game, he hung his head in shame on the bench. He stepped on the ice and put on a show of celebration, but I could tell, his heart wasn’t in it.
On the way home, I asked him about it. He just wanted to score with everyone in attendance. He questioned coaches’ and players’ decisions, including his own.
I asked him who would win in a Greek mythology quiz between the two of us. The “Freakin Greek” podcast has put him way ahead of me. “I would” he said with a wry smile.
Why was there no happy celebration in spite of the win?
The silver medalist paradox
There is a famous 1995 study (’When less is more’) by Medvec, Madey, and Gilovich that looked at Olympic medalists. They found that bronze medalists are consistently happier than silver medalists.
Silver medalists focus on "Upward Counterfactuals": “I almost had the gold. If only I hadn't made that one mistake.” This is my kid focusing on the one goal he let in.
Bronze Medalists focus on "Downward Counterfactuals": “I’m just happy to be on the podium! I almost walked away with nothing.”
Happiness = Reality - Expectations.
The Pebble
The Myth of Antaeus
In Greek mythology, the son of Gaea (Mother Earth) and Poseidon was Antaeus (not Percy Jackson). Antaeus was famous for being unbeatable. Whenever he got knocked down, he didn't just get up again (no, you’re never going to keep me down), he got stronger. His mother (Earth) would recharge him the moment he touched the ground.
Hercules, the muscliest of the Greek heroes, figured out the secret. Instead of knocking him down, he lifted him high into the air. Once Antaeus’s feet were off the ground, he lost all his strength.
The "ground" (The basics): For my son, "touching the ground" is the fun of the game, the teamwork, the effort, and the simple act of stopping a puck. When he is grounded in the process, he is invincible and happy.
The "air" (The expectations): When he gets "lifted off the ground" by high expectations—like wanting to score in front of his family or focusing on the goal he let in, he loses his strength. He isn't playing for himself or the game anymore; he's playing for the stats and the “stans”.
The challenge
Two stars and a wish
When you’re stuck in a negative spiral, try this trick: Two Stars and a Wish:
Name two stars (things) you did well, factual, positive, small. I made a good pass. I improved on my last test score. I submitted by the deadline.
Give yourself one "wish"—something you want to work on next time.
This forces our brains to scan for positives (overcoming the Negativity Bias) while still giving you an outlet for your desire to improve.
Until next week,
Saving Sundays
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