Never give up

This is not really about bicycles or ABRT, but since I'm Hefe, I can pull this off. Its a lesson of determination coming from a proud father.

A few years ago, when Floyd Landis (illegitimately as it turns out) won Stage 17 of the Tour de France, I made my two daughters, neither of whom are bike racing fans, watch the stage. The lesson that I was trying to impress upon them was that no matter how bad the game seems, no matter how far down you are, no matter what, you go out and do your best. And good things happen when you do.

A few weeks later, we find out that Landis tested positive for illegal testosterone use. I refused to believe it at firs for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was embarrassment when I told my daughters. Here I was bragging about his gritty performance in the face of unspeakable odds and it turns out the dude was cheating.

But apparently the core lesson was not lost on either daughter, but this is a story about the youngest.

Both girls are synchronized skaters. For a guy, this is an odd sport. Its like ice dancing but with upwards of 16 to 20 girls on the ice at one time. Its a judged sport, which means its open to all sorts of nefarious behavior on the part of judges. But my word to my girls has always been: go out , have fun and do your best. You have no control over anything else, so don't worry about it.

My eldest has been doing this for 8 years now. Her younger sister watched every practice and went to every competition for and joined the team when she turned 8.

DC, despite its wealth, is not a hotbed for figure skating in general nor synchronized skating in the particular. Our club has difficulty in attracting participants and we are always scrambling to put together competitive squads. For the younger girls, this has been especially difficult in the past few years. In fact, my youngest dagger's team has never placed higher than last (yeah, last) in USFSA competitions and only won a few, less competitive ISI events. For five years, she went to every practice, every competition (some as far away as Atlanta and Detroit) and was always last. She takes multiple private lessons a week and attends camps in the summer. She knows every song from every routine her club has performed and practically every one from her competitors, too.

Last year, her best friend moved up to another squad and the "re-org" left her bitterly disappointed. I refrained from being too much of the little league dad, but did give her the option of not continuing or taking a year off and concentrating on her field moves. In the end, she decided to stick it out.

The coach had her and two other girls start on their routine in August, putting in extra sessions early on to get things started off right. The team evolved into a strong squad and it looked like this was the year for them. The music is beautiful as are the dresses and the choreography. The girls were stoked and loaded for bear when they took the ice for their first competition in early December in Cape Cod.

The routine came off almost perfectly and the girls were very pleased with their performance. There was the usual deconstruction of what when on, but all in all, they were happy and fired up (as were the parents). But remember the comment about nefarious behavior: yep, you guessed it: last place. What made it a bit harder was the celebration for one of the older teams, which placed fourth overall in their bracket. The younger girls were totally jobbed on this one, but the coach took the judges' comments (a coach can get face time with the judges for detailed critiques) and the girls wen back to work.

This past weekend was the Eastern Sectionals, which is basically the regional championships for the east coast. Her team is not "nationally qualifying" so this is the end of their USFSA season and a last chance facing strong competition. And strong it was: the pre-juvenile division has 24 teams, 12 in two "flights". The top six in each flight would go on to compete in the finals on the last day of the competition.

The girls put on a sterling display: flawless form the eyes of this amateur judge. Like every other parent in the club, our fingers were crossed: "please don't place them last." I had a sense, though, that his was special and my hunch proved correct: the girls placed fourth in the flight and were heading to the finals. It was a crowning moment for them and their celebration underscored that. My daughter even hugged me, in public, which is not something 12 year girls usually do.

The girls actually did not fare as well in the finals, but even placing last in that flight meant that they were mid-field overall. And for them, that was as good as walking away with a gold. There were lots of tears yesterday but, in the end, the girls left the rink happy and proud of their accomplishments.

For me, it was a far better lesson than Stage 17: for five years, my youngest worked and for five years, her team came up empty. For a 12 year old that is nearly 1/2 of her life. But she never gave up, she never sat out, she never stopped working. And that kind of determination is a lesson for any athlete competing in any sport