Why Losing to My Son is a Win-Win Game

We have to prepare the child for the path, not the path for the child. — Tim Elmore

A game I don’t want to lose.

Finally, he beats me.

1-on-1, best of 7 games (11 points), 4–2.

I lie on my back, limbs splayed out, gasping for air. Nobody at the basketball court section, except me and my son Jack, 16. Further, a couple of joggers are running along the trails, wearing masks. Down the little slope is a children’s playground with a few kids sending carefree laughter across the empty space.

The vast, stretching grasslands are baseball and softball fields, totally desolate. More people are out now, but the park still looks weirdly deserted.

For a typical afternoon of early summer in Southern California, this park would be a raucous paradise. Jack and I have been playing this 1-on-1 game since last summer, courtesy of the pandemic.

It’s tough to play the game, but also to swallow the result. It is a game I don't want to lose.

Having a son with a winning heart is tough, too. I have been able to cope with it.

Until today.

He can beat his dad at many games, but not this one

For most parents, raising kids is a history of losing games. Sometimes we accept defeat quickly to generate interest. Sometimes we teach them that there is a hard path between effort and reward. There are some games where we have also had a winning heart since we were kids.

I started to teach Jack “beat the landlord” when he was about 5. It’s a poker game that every Chinese family plays.

I let him win very early because I was never a fan of the game. I also thought we should help kids understand there are two things in life: winning and losing. Winning can bring them joy, which they have to work hard to earn.

Then we played Go games because of the mystical rite in the three EA countries (China, Japan, S. Korea) that every boy should learn Go game.

I learned some tricks on the internet and started to teach him when he was 6. His skills grew incredibly. Soon he started to beat me left and right.

He continued to study using training courses I sent him to until he won the national certificate of Go Game Amateur, Grade 4, at age 9. It was the highest grade an amateur player could achieve. Now he only plays Go games on the internet.

It’s a delightful escape for me. I never liked board games. The defeat is acceptable and I am not ashamed of it.

But basketball is different. Losing this sucks.

I played on the faculty amateur team in college, though mostly sitting on the bench. I constantly played at street courts until my mid-30s.

When knee injuries stopped me from playing intensive games, I turned my energy to the NBA on TV. During Michael Jordan’s second three-peat Championship in 1998, I was the best commentary at family gatherings.

One day Jack told me he wanted to play basketball. I jumped up in a heartbeat and drove him to the playground. In the first few days, the rim was like the end of the sky. The first time he hit it, he bounced up and down like a yo-yo.

Show the kid that his opponent also wants to win. He has to fight.

I mostly taught him the basic moves and fed him balls. Interest was the best teacher, and he grew really fast. When we played 1-on-1, I needed to hold back on moves. I could mow him down in a little bump. I never let him win. Even when we used handicapped rules on me, I always beat him in the end.

Now I had the chance to straighten myself up and teach him what winning really was. I wanted to tell him that he couldn’t win without patience and hard work.

Soon he built a small team among his elementary classmates. My job became driving them to the court and watching them play. All they wanted was competition and winning.

I tried to teach them the rules and call fouls, and told them that no winning is meaningful without rules and discipline.

We moved to Southern California in 2018. Jack quickly found basketball buddies at the local park. They were mostly at my shoulders height at that time. My skills to coach them came in short supply.

Sometimes I joined the 3-on-3 games when they needed players. While I was using nearly all my capacity on the court, I could still dominate if I wanted to.

Competition makes us fearless and hopeful

After settling down, I started to search for a job, starting with Uber and Lyft. California’s sun was hot and welcoming as ever, but I struggled to find my bearings on this land.

The game nights with the kids at the park helped me stay hopeful. They had no worries or setbacks. All they wanted was big shots and winning. They were contagious. I told myself, “Hang in there, it will be better.”

I found a job at a warehouse. The 10 hours of night shift work took away all my energy. Joining the games became increasingly difficult for me.

But Jack stayed on the court. He joined a couple of basketball camps in the summer of 2019. He was as tall as I was now. Growing even faster was his speed, skills, and confidence on the court. He didn’t stumble anymore when things got physical.

In 2020, Jack grew into a 5'9" young man. I needed to look up to him now. He made some big plans for the summer basketball camps. But COVID-19 stopped everything.

All his playing buddies were at home in quarantine since March. The basketball boards at the park were fixed with wooden brackets to stop people from playing.

They were then taken off in June following the reopening orders issued by the county. When the second lockdown was declared in July, they didn’t put the brackets back. But still, nobody showed up on the court.

Kids were hit much harder by the lockdown. In a couple of months, Jack grew into a 250 lbs monster. He need to get out.

I decided to double down on 1-on-1 games with him. Coming back from work, dragging my sore limbs, out to the park we went. 7 games, 11 points each.

The world was plagued by the soaring COVID cases every day, the fearful air suffocating. But we were fearless on the court, yelling, pushing, arguing.

He had rebounds and 3-pointers. But his size slowed him down a lot. I had speed, layups, and some old man’s hustling. I beat him, every time.

I saw he really wanted to win, but I wanted it even more. Not just to show him winning was hard, but also something in my own heart was awakened. It is the last place where I didn’t want to accept defeat. I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

We pushed, collided, sometimes got intense, but I always beat him. Sometimes he got really upset and didn’t talk to me for a long time. But that’s life.

Off the court, California became the epicenter of the pandemic in the US, our county the epicenter of California. I told myself, “Hang in there, it will be better.

Hard-earned winning is the best reward

After being warned by the doctor in October, Jack started to lose weight like crazy. He stopped eating burgers, started running and indoor spinning. He had a bigger battle to fight, he was rivaling himself.

But whenever we met on the court, I felt the competition heat up every day. He moved faster, pushed harder. More than ever I felt the fire that he wanted to win the game. My line was bending though I kept screaming in my mind, “hold on.”

A Chinese saying tells how a person uses force to their point of dying, “suck the milk”, as a baby would use her whole life to suck the milk. More and more, I felt like I was the baby holding the milk bottle, dashing around, sucking to my death.

Until today he beats me.

And a bonus of this winning, he lost 50 lbs in six months.

His face glows with excitement and pride. I’m thrilled to watch the boy that struggled to get the ball to the rim grow this strong now. Losing sucks. But for all the joy and hope it brings to my life today, I will swallow it.

I hope he can better understand what Confucius said,

“The will to win unlocks a person to excellence.”