10/02/2026
I've been thinking about something.
When a student takes a test and doesn't get the score they hoped for, we don't suddenly assume that number represents everything they know or everything they're capable of becoming.
Maybe we should remember that when we look at a scoreboard, too.
A scoreboard tells us who won and who lost that night. It doesn't tell us the whole story of the young men standing underneath it.
These are young men who are still growing, learning, and coming into their own. They're going to have great games. They're going to make mistakes. They're going to win, and they're going to lose.
And when they lose, I promise you — they feel it.
While we're sitting in the stands or looking at a score on our phones, they're the ones who spent the week practicing. They're the ones underneath the helmets taking the hits. They're the ones walking into the locker room afterward, physically hurting and emotionally disappointed because they wanted that win more than any of us did.
That's why I think we, as adults, have a responsibility.
Our job isn't to tear these young men down when the scoreboard doesn't go the way we wanted. They don't need snide comments about the score or their record. They don't need grown adults judging them from the sidelines or behind a screen.
They need us in their corner.
That doesn't mean pretending mistakes weren't made or that losing doesn't matter. You learn from it. You get better because of it. As Nick Saban has said, **"Don't waste a failure."**
But there's a difference between learning from failure and being defined by it.
So win or lose, cheer for them. Encourage them. Be proud of the work they're putting in.
Because long after everyone has forgotten what the scoreboard said on a Friday night, these young men will remember the people who stood behind them when it didn't.