Taking Pride in Others' Achievements

Ever watch a reality TV show like Survivor (I watch) or American Idol (I don't watch), pick a favorite contestant, and then ride a wave of emotion with them as they compete? Do you feel good when they do well, and feel bad when they don't? Does your own self worth swell or shrink as a total stranger succeeds or fails?

It's funny how we take pride in the achievements of others, almost as though we somehow had something to do with their accomplishments. This past week the Linn-Mar High School boys basketball team won the Iowa class 4A (large school) state championship. It was the second championship in four years for a school that had last won the whole banana in 1983. I watched the broadcast of the game and, as it became apparant that the Lions were going to win, I felt pretty good about the state of the world. Because, Linn-Mar isn't just any school -- it's my alma mater, class of 1988.

I haven't watched a Linn-Mar basketball game in person since 1991. The last time I played in a Linn-Mar basketball game was 1985, as a high school freshman (I could shoot, but I was slow and didn't anticipate the game very well). The youngest brothers and sisters of my classmates have long since graduated. The coaching staff has changed over several times. I don't even remotely know a soul associated with the program. And yet, somehow I feel good knowing that "my" team won. It's shameful, really.

But aren't we all like that, to some degree? We live vicariously through others and revel in their glory. Likewise, we nearly fall apart when we ... I mean they, fail. Case in point: Kinnick Stadium every other Saturday afternoon from September through November. You'd think the Hawkeyes were a team of 70,000, not the 80 or so that suit up. And when we ... I mean, they, fail ... the sky falls.

Our esteems are fragile. We take a beating every day at the hands of those who have no idea that they have hurt our feelings and crushed our egos. So, when we can siphen just a little glory out of a situation even remotely tied to us, we take it and run, thank you very much. Go directly pass go and collect $200. I'd like to buy a vowel, Pat. An "I," as in, "I am important."

Well, kudos and "great job" to the boys at Linn-Mar. I'm glad I was able to pull you through to victory. I would have preferred that we won by a few more points -- that's something we can work on for next year. I'll look for my strand of the Wells Fargo Arena championship net in the mailbox soon.