I’ll Let You Be In My Dreams If I Can Be In Yours

Not one to name drop but I have to tell you that a buddy of mine is one of the preeminent screen writers in the country. He has sold scripts to Stephen Spielberg; he has written movies that you have seen. “B” is top of the food chain in Hollywood, which is why I believe him when he says that no movie about an underdog sports team that doesn’t win can be produced. (Hey, I’m not going to use the “L” word in a family publication). Go ahead and add your favorites to this list: “Bad News Bears,” “Dodge Ball,” “Space Jam,” “Mighty Ducks,” “Sandlot,” that unwatchable Sylvester Stallone film about soccer. The list is as long as the movies are tedious. To enjoy M*A*S*H, a better film, you have to overlook that the “good” doctors use syringes to incapacitate the other players. In Hollywood films, take it to the bank, the “good” guys always win.

When my buddy, in high level talks with studio executives, dared to suggest that it might be more interesting, never mind more accurate, to allow a film to end without the triumphant congratulatory champagne immersion, he was told categorically that it would never happen. “That movie won’t be made,” he was told. “No one will pay money to see it.”

To see people who don’t always win, you may wish to take a walk around an actual neighborhood—the one in which you live should do nicely.

Because the tricky bit is that unlike darkened theaters, in real life classrooms, in real life job interviews, and in real life sporting events, not quite everyone emerges victorious. The cameras may follow the gold medalists but let’s do the arithmetic: as you root fervently for golden haired, flexible Flossie Flip-flop to nail her dismount, aren’t you cheering just as vehemently for Stacey Somersault to land on her butt? Because there will be three spaces on the podium in Rio, just like there were in London.

Another easy arithmetic question: What do 63 of the 64 teams in the “March Madness” tournament have in common? Put your pencils down. That’s right. Sixty-three teams go home without the big trophy. This just in: not everybody wins.

A reader whom I respect responded to one of my “Give it all you’ve got. Then go home content” columns with the following comment:

“Thinking ‘I did my best’ is poor consolation for continuing in a deadening job instead of passing an important exam.”

The problem is that not everyone can pass the exam any more than everyone can fit on the podium at the Olympics. SOMEONE has to have that lousy job. SOMEONE has to not win. SOMEONE has to go home.

That the camera never follows these folks doesn’t mean that they no longer exist.

For a historical context, consider Germany who “came in second” in the First World War. It is my understanding that, not having won that particular event, they were not satisfied with the outcome of the contest and, subsequently, allowed their discontent to cause the death of, among others, 30 million Russians.

Rooting for your child to get “Student of the Month” in her kindergarten class is natural. Understanding that those 19 other children are somebody else’s kids is necessary. Unless you can make more months, I want to know what happens to the kids who don’t win. Do you think they internalize, “Gee, I better work harder, be more social, do more homework, and behave better so that I can win next month?” Neither do I. To the contrary, I think those other kids envision a Scarlett ‘L’ emblazoned on their chest.

Many gentle readers will recognize the title of this entry from “Talkin’ World War III Blues” from “The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan” from 1963.

Here’s what Bruce Springsteen sang in “Atlantic City” in 1982:

Down here it’s just winner and losers
And don’t get caught on the wrong side of that line.
Well, I’m tired of comin’ out on the losin’ end
So, Honey, last night I met this guy and I’m gonna do a little favor for him.

The paradigm has to change. In the classroom, in politics, and on the street, we have to realize that allocating all our resources exclusively to the most able…

… is a losing proposition.