Failure....

"Tell me about a time you failed...."

If you are like me that question hits you like nails on a chalk board.  Failed?  Me?  Are you kidding me? Harumph, Harumph...

That question used to always rock me on my heels, and now as a leader I embrace it.  Even use it to help calibrate and ground myself in activities. *Even pops up in my interviews*

Failure is a success in how "not" to do something...May have been a Thomas Edison Quote that sticks with me:  I have never failed, I just found a few hundred ways to not make a lightbulb...  I always like that one!

See the attached article

Winning is easy; but handling defeat is one of sports' most compelling sights: Tim Warsinskey's Take

By Tim Warsinskey, The Plain Dealer 
on March 29, 2010 at 9:08 PM, updated March 29, 2010 at 9:15 PM

John Kuntz / The Plain DealerMentor's Jaron Crowe displayed the emotions that make the final games of any high school sport season so compelling, says Tim Warsinskey.

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- We celebrate winners. It's easy. It's fun. They make us feel better about ourselves.

We stare and wonder about the losers, the ones shedding tears and stuck motionless in disbelief at the spot where it ended. We wonder what they're thinking. We wonder how long until they leave so everyone else can go on celebrating because it's just uncomfortable having them around.

I love the losers.

Winners are easy. They're happy. Joy is a consistent high note, sweet and predictable.

Losers are fascinating. Some take it in stride. Others look like they've been run over by a herd of buffalo. This month, we saw many dreams stampeded into dust.

At the state wrestling meet earlier this month, there were 1,213 losers. That's how many matches there were, and every one of them produced a loser. More to the point, there were 672 wrestlers, and all but the 42 champs lost at least once, and some lost three times. That event provided the full scope of losing reactions -- stoicism, shock, anger, resignation, tears and so what?

The hallways beneath the Value City Arena stands were strewn with the casualties of losing. Boys sat on cement floors and wept so hard their chests heaved. Coaches stood by, some consoling, others waiting for the kid to come to grips, and a few had choice words about some shoddy wrestling.

I'll remember a few losers for a long time.

One was Matt Stephens of St. Paris Graham, a favorite to win his weight class until he illegally slammed and injured his opponent in a semifinal. Stephens was disqualified and stood at center mat, bowed over, face in his hands for several minutes after his opponent was helped off. The enormity of his error froze him. The next match was about to begin when a coach finally grabbed Stephens' elbow and led him away.

Another was Crestwood's Paige Nemec, the first girl state qualifier. She won one match, but lost twice. She is the only wrestler I recall having three news conferences after going 1-2 at state. She handled it all with grace, but after the second loss, she broke down and sobbed as she answered questions.

Finally, last week at the state boys basketball semifinals, Mentor lost in overtime, and for the first time in the 17 years I've known coach Bob Krizancic, he was devastated by a loss. His eyes were red and watery. He was flanked by his son, Cole, and senior Jaron Crowe, who both were crying.

Bob Krizancic's lament summed it all up when he said, "I told the kids, 'If you didn't want it so bad, it wouldn't hurt so much.'"

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