“Your trivia questions are too hard.”
 
“I don’t agree with that answer.”
 
“I don’t like this prize.”
 
“I think the team over there is cheating.”
 
“What do you mean that you didn’t give us points for that answer?”
 
“I didn’t like your joke.”
 
“Why’d the restaurant change the menu?”
 
Guess how many times I’ve heard these sentences while hosting free trivia nights for OSIP.  (I don’t even have control over the last one!)
 
The overwhelming majority of the time, the regulars who attend OSIP’s free trivia nights are fantastic.  They’ve helped us build a community of people who understand our cause and why we fight for our mission.  I guess I just don’t understand the few times when people say the things they do (like the statements above).
 
Would you believe we’ve had to develop a rules sheet for trivia and distribute it to each team’s table?  Would you believe we’ve had to amend it a few times because the rules have to keep being updated due to new situations we encounter?  Free trivia sponsored by a sportsmanship charity shouldn’t be this difficult!  It’s amazing to me how seriously people take these free trivia nights. 
 
Here's a sample of what has been added to our rules sheet:
 
-Do not use electronic devices such as your phone to research answers.
 
-Don’t shout the answers out.
 
-Do not name your team with an inappropriate name that promotes bad sportsmanship.
 
-Do not approach the host with your phone claiming you have the correct answer.
 
-Be positive and supportive.  Cheer for your team, not against other teams (or boo people).
 
-Be supportive of the venue hosting trivia.  Purchase food and drinks.  Tip the staff 20%.
 
I’d like to believe that some of these items fall under the heading of common sense, but I’m sure not everyone would agree with me on this.

The part that gets me the most frustrated is the part that I will have to frequently quote directly from the rules sheet.  When a team violates one of the rules listed above, I must remind the entire room that every person present is here of their own volition.  Nobody forced them to attend, and it was free to play.  This usually gets people to relax and laugh at themselves, but every now and then, it’s the nail in the coffin to ensure that someone’s not coming back next week or next month.
 
Again, I love hosting trivia.  I love the regulars who come and play.  And I love championing our message through this gentle and simple application of good sportsmanship.  I guess I just wish more people were more cognizant of these things like I am.
 
I don’t understand the teams that don’t order food or drinks when they come to play.  People will nurse a glass of water for the evening, then they’ll depart without leaving gratuity for the server who kept refilling their water.  They treat the waitstaff like servants who are simply supposed to take care of them and shouldn’t expect to be tipped appropriately.
 
I don’t understand the teams that don’t come back because they think the questions are too hard.  They take pride in their ignorance and believe they aren’t having fun if they’re not getting the answers correct.  Rather than consider the option of inviting more friends to join them next time who might know the answers, they immediately succumb to defeat and decide it’s not worth their time to return.
 
I don’t understand the teams that treat the waitstaff like garbage, especially when the restaurant is overwhelmed.  I’ve witnessed some servers resort to tears because of the attitude of customers, and I wish that I never had witnessed the few times that guests were asked not to return to an establishment over that.  It makes me feel bad because it becomes a reflection on OSIP because people can’t separate the establishment hosting trivia from the nonprofit providing it.  (What could even be worse is when people don’t realize they’re treating people like garbage!)
 
I don’t understand the teams that cheat.  I had a team cheat once by sitting in two different locations in a restaurant so they could have one table pretending to not play trivia and look up the answers and then text it to the table that was playing.  Now, I purposefully include questions that are nearly impossible to ensure that people aren’t cheating.
 
And I don’t understand the venues that have discontinued trivia services and blamed us when we have so many success stories.  Some venues fail to advertise, then wonder why people don’t come out to play trivia.  Some venues have poor employee morale or just a terrible product, setting the event up for failure before it even starts.  Some venues are micromanagers, seeking to tweak the trivia product or rejecting it due to the slightest difference of opinion.
 
However, I still love doing it.  And I hope that the trivia regulars who read this understand how passionate I am about our cause, our mission, and our programs.
 
I hope you can make a resolution for 2025 to be a part of the solution as we redouble our efforts to treat others the way we would wish to be treated, especially in the arena of competition.

Imagine that you overheard this:  "The way to bring people together is to beat other people." 
 
Aside from the sadists in our midst who would perk up the way Kenny Bania does in Seinfeld ("That's gold, Jerry!"), most of us would find that beating other people is a pretty weird way to bring people together. 
 
Then imagine that another person offered a more detailed alternative:  "The way to bring people together is to make them compete over the number of points they score.  But make them do that in an artificially limited amount of time so that they can declare one group the winner and the other group the loser." 
 
Even the sadists in our midst might back away and raise their eyebrows.  "Wow, that's pretty twisted.  But yeah, I guess, if you say so." 
 
And yet that's exactly what we say about sports.  "The great thing about sports is that they bring people together." 
 
So, does that make every sports fan a sadist? 
 
No.  When people say this, they're referring to a fun and shared interest that people gather to watch or to play.  Others might add that winning isn't the only purpose of sports:  it's about staying in shape, fighting adversity, embracing a challenge, doing the best that you can, and collaborating as a team toward a common goal.  These are all true. 
 
However, it's also true that none of these things are exclusive to sports.  Hiking, learning a language, gardening, volunteer work, and more can satisfy these demands. 
 
But in a way that's true of few activities aside from war, the purpose of sports really is to win. 
 
Politics might be offered as another arena where that's true.  "The Purpose of Government Is to Win" is either the title of Kim Jong Un's autobiography or a perspective of exactly what's gone wrong with American politics.  To approach society as a sports-like battle over a fixed number of units in a fixed amount of time does not necessarily help. 
 
For a politician amid a campaign, the sports analogy might be fair.  They must be ready to take the proverbial punches and stick that out to the election to achieve their goal.  But elections exist to serve the government, not the other way around.  And the government exists (or at least democracies exist) to guarantee the rights, freedoms, and resources of the people.  Whoever wins is supposed to serve all constituents, not just the people that voted for that candidate.  It would be a stretch to say that's just as true for sports, as the workers at the stadium who must collect the broken beer bottles can attest. 


Business might be offered as another arena where "the purpose is to win."  But in business too, the problem with that mantra is obvious.  If whoever wins does that by making the best product or by offering the best service, then sure, the purpose of business is to win.  But if the purpose of business is to beat competitors by cutting corners, polluting rivers, or screwing over employees and consumers, then to win is a dubious business. 
 
That's why the substitution of the arts with sports (or the mandate to choose one instead of the other) is such a troubling trend in schools.  This is done under the guise that sports teach us the harsh reality that "life's not fair."  But the unfairness of life is encoded in the genetic material we didn't choose, made by the parents to whom we didn't choose to be born, from the areas of the world where we didn't choose to be born.  We don't need sports to recreate that for us, especially in free societies where we do choose what to value and where we do choose what to reward. 
 
The struggle to be a good person is hard enough without declaring other people to be losers.  That's why no great teacher, faith, or spiritual guide ever tells us, "The purpose is to win."  And that's why the arts are essential.  Other than the struggle to be a good person, the struggle to be a good artist is the ultimate example of intangible greatness.  It is the shared interest without sides.  It's the challenge without point totals.  It's collaboration without opponents.  It's victory without a scoreboard.  It's beauty without a clock.  And until that greatness is as valued as "winners and losers," the competitive arena will continue to be an excuse for maladjusted desires to dominate our public life.
 
To the extent that sports are a harmless outlet for competitive impulses (a substitute for war), sports do bring people together.  We just shouldn't pretend that sports are a blueprint for a society.  The best things about sports can only thrive when we stop turning to sports for our values.  That's how we win.

After a stultifying day at work, I often look forward to sitting down at my computer to enjoy some video games.  Games are big business these days, but even long before they were ever taken seriously by the mainstream, they have been a go-to release for me, particularly as a kid who was interested in sports but not particularly athletically inclined or talented.  Despite my own enjoyment of many games with a competitive or team element, there is usually someone not enjoying themselves, and that person will let the other players know it—often with abusive, racist, and shocking language.  In short, the same tendencies towards awful behavior that coaches, parents, and players seek to fight in the “real” world of sport occur online as well.

While unsurprising that some people will choose to behave badly in any venue available to them, the nature of online, networked gaming specifically worries me for a few reasons.  First, much of the social pressure to behave is removed when online thanks to anonymity.  Some participants will see this as license to act horribly towards their teammates or opponents despite any culture or accepted practices of the game, such as typing “GG” (good game) into the chat, win or lose.  Second, bad behavior online is often viewed as having little to no consequences, as opposed to acting like a jerk at a Little League game, where a bully’s actions may result in punishment or retribution.  Finally, although video games do come with a rating system to gauge age-appropriateness, even appropriately aged individuals can act in ways that are not acceptable to anyone.  This includes abuse directed towards children or young adults, who already struggle with self-esteem issues and bullying online.  Even as a grown adult, I find this behavior to be incredibly off-putting; it easily gets under my skin, leaving me angry or stressed out after playing a game, which is exactly the opposite of how I want to feel after using some of my leisure time.

So what can be done?

Some good first steps are technical.  Most games have reputation management systems through which players can report others for abusive behavior.  These "trolls" suffer restricted privileges in the game or can be banned entirely depending on the frequency and/or severity of their negative actions.  Of course, these sorts of remedies miss much of the abuse, as they rely on action taken by the game developers and let toxic players off the hook if they are—for whatever reason—not reported even though they have acted terribly.  Players can also act themselves by “muting” other players so they don’t hear their voices or read their chats, but this can unfortunately directly harm the competition of the game, as most online games require team coordination and strategy.

A brand-new game that I just played addresses the issue of toxicity by having players read through and indicate that they have understood a three-point “code of conduct” before unlocking the ability to play online with others.  This is a nice approach, but of course, anyone truly determined to be awful can ignore the prompts and continue to make other people miserable.

Ultimately, as in other activities, education is imperative.  The more that can be done to raise awareness among the participants in any activity that their bad behavior has a negative effect on others, detracting from everyone’s enjoyment and character-building, the better off everyone will be.  Organizations like OSIP can help inform the public about their responsibility to uphold good sportsmanship, whether online or off.

The 2022 Olympic Winter Games inspired me to reflect on a sportsmanship situation we encountered a few years ago.
 
While manning a table at a local town fair, a woman approached us and became combative (in front of children, no less), expressing her opinion that she did not see a need for OSIP to exist, claiming OSIP is another form of a participation trophy. 
 
This couldn't be further from the truth.
 
For some background, OSIP's mission statement is: 
 

1. To provide financial aid and assistance to those affected by acts of aggression due to poor sportsmanship and/or fanship, and,
2. To raise awareness of the need for better sportsmanship in all capacities throughout sports and competition.

 
We would love nothing more than to not have to exist, but as it stands now, there are lots of eyes that can greatly benefit from being opened on the subject.  Sportsmanship exists beyond athletic settings; it goes with us on the journey we call life.  Competition plays a role in politics, the workplace, and many other facets and situations.  Participation trophies do nothing to help young minds learn how to handle these scenarios.  Winning isn’t everything (though the desire to win and give it “your all” on the field is celebrated); being able to lose and accept it with dignity is just as important than winning (if not more so).  Learning how to lose in organized sports is an important lesson just as it is when you’re in the running for a job, an election, or any other related capacity.
 
“Participation trophies actually take away from the concept of sportsmanship,” said OSIP Chairperson Sean Ryan.  “The process of winning and losing and how to accept those situations gracefully is a life lesson.  Failing is learning while winning should be humbling.  Participation trophies, depending on their context, can represent winning without trying.  To truly experience winning, we first must experience losing and what it feels like.  This way, outcomes are more appreciated and accepted.”
 
“How exactly would the Brian Stow incident or a young athlete yelling at umpires relate to a participation trophy?” asks OSIP Vice-Chairperson Sean Gough.  “Were violence and whining the trophies?  Seems telling, too, that those who bash from afar often stereotype by invoking participation trophies.  Aside from the lack of originality, the confusion of decency with coddling already suggests a problem with their conceptions of sportsmanship.”  
 
So, once the pandemic storm calms, if you see us at a community event, please stop by, say hi, and help us spread the good word.  Heck, we will even sweeten the deal with some giveaway candy.
 
There is so much more to be said about this topic, more than I can muster in this blog post.  But if you’ve made it this far: rock on!  Please don’t let me bring your interest to an abrupt stop here.
 
Allow me to introduce you to “On Sportsmanship: A Critical Reader and Handbook,” available in paperback, hardcover, and Kindle formats from Amazon.  Happy reading, and happy good-sportsman-ing!  
 
OSIP is always looking for more people who would like to get involved.  Visit www.osipfoundation.org for more information.  (Although, since we already have three people named Sean, if your name happens to be Sean, we may need to lovingly assign you a new alias.)

There are moments in nearly every sporting event when a player, coach, or fan encounters a fork in the road.  Do I take the path that allows my emotions to get the best of me and fall victim to a display of poor sportsmanship?  Or do I take the path of discipline and show poise?

There are so many elements surrounding athletic events that we don’t control.  Demonstrating good sportsmanship is a component that lies 100 percent within our control.  When confronted with a situation riddled with turmoil, every coach, player, and parent gets to determine how they will handle their actions.

Let’s take a simple example of when an athlete encounters a fork in the road.  Consider a baseball game where a batter is at the plate with the bases loaded and one out.  It’s late in the game and the batter's team is down by one run.  With a 2-2 count, the batter takes a called strike three.  In that moment, the batter has a decision to make:

1. Walk back to the dugout, put the bat and helmet away, find a seat in the dugout, and look out towards the batter’s box, or,
2. Show bad body language that lets everyone know the batter thinks the umpire is at fault, like yelling something at the ump as the batter returns to the dugout, followed by slamming the bat and helmet in disgust while pacing the dugout and complaining about the call.

Decision 1 is clearly the showcase of good sportsmanship, but it’s also in the best interest of the athlete because it’s smart.  If the batter calmly walks back to the dugout, all eyes in the ballpark will shift to the next hitter.  Decision 2 extends the failed plate appearance, keeping the eyes in the ballpark on that batter.  It’s now not just a strikeout with the bases loaded:  it's also a moment that reflects poorly on the athlete’s character.

Listen, it’s not easy.  Competitive juices are flowing; an opportunity to have a big moment was missed, composed with failure in front of everyone in attendance.  But one must work at it, just like other aspects of the game.  Further, any successful athlete will tell you that the most important play is the next play.  If emotions can't be kept in check, the ability to focus on the next play will suffer.

Teammates will notice.  Opponents will notice.  Coaches will notice.  Game officials will notice.  Recruiters will notice.

Make the decision to become exceptional at sportsmanship.  You’ll not only choose the right path at each fork you encounter, but you’ll begin to take others with you.

Topics like this and more are discussed regularly on How You Play The Game, the official podcast of OSIP.  On January 1, OSIP founder Jack Furlong and chairperson Sean Ryan will produce their 100th episode of the program.  Dale Scott will join them on the podcast, and Furlong will announce the release of his highly anticipated book, On Sportsmanship: A Critical Reader and Handbook.  The mission of the book is to “reveal the steps to ensuring that each person does their best at treating others with respect in sports and competition.”

Tune in to listen to the podcast and also learn more about OSIP at osipfoundation.org.

There have been plenty of times while I've been umpiring a baseball game when I began to wonder if the coaches know that a human being is officiating this game.

In other words, do coaches/players/fans understand that the official is a human being with a soul, a spirit, emotions, a will, experiences, and value?  Does that one coach who constantly bickers with me know that I'm not just an object?  Does that coach know that, as soon as I walk off the field, I have to go home to my life and my loved ones and deal with the realities of life?

On the other side of things, when I watch a game, am I conscious of the fact that those on the field have to do the same thing?

Look at it this way:  although it does not necessarily fall under the umbrella of competition, do we realize that those who are involved in the creation of a movie are also human?  When we watch the movie, do we realize that actors and actresses are on the screen portraying characters, not the actual fictional (or factual) character?  When I'm watching Star Wars, do I see Luke Skywalker on the screen?  Or do I know that Mark Hamill is on the screen portraying Luke Skywalker?  If the character does something I don't like (see Episode VIII), is it the fault of Luke Skywalker?  Is it the fault of Mark Hamill?  Maybe it's the fault of the director, Rian Johnson!  Maybe it's the fault of the parent company, Disney!  Maybe it's nobody's fault!  Why am I so quick to need to place blame?

The point is that competition (or a vested interested thereof, especially when we are fans) suppresses our ability to empathize with others.  If we are not careful, we see the opposing fan as an object, not as a human being.  We see the official as a robot who is supposed to get every call right.  We see our opponent as the enemy who must be defeated.  We don't see any of these parties as people we might run into at the bar later, possibly trying to just unwind with a drink after a stressful day who may just need the company of another person to feel loved.

Competition tends to have a clearly defined distinction:  my victory equals your failure.  That is, if two parties are competing for the same thing, one will win and one will lose.  And if multiple parties are competing for the same thing, one will win and many will lose.

In some respects, that's not always the case.  Some competitions have multiple winners, or at least multiple parties who "make the cut."  The best example I can think of in my other industry of music is getting a gig at a particular venue.  Whether it is a club, concert hall, restaurant, or wherever, there are probably a limited number of available slots for an artist to perform, so the goal is to fill those slots with a variety of acts so as not to saturate the event.  One musician is not necessarily going to play every Saturday night at the same restaurant; there is probably a rotation of musicians who come in over a set period of time.  Therefore, if the competition is between getting the gig and not getting the gig in this case, you have a better chance of succeeding, and your success does not automatically equal the failure of someone else.

However, it is very easy to forget this.  No matter the industry, our failure can easily seep into our thoughts when we see someone else succeed, especially when it has no correlation to our situation!  If I see a colleague succeeding at a gig at a restaurant where I once tried to get a gig years prior, why am I jealous?  That doesn't mean that I am not a successful musician!  I can have tons of other gigs that allow me to perform and compensate me, but the fact that I didn't get that one gig and someone else did still irks me.  These are the situations where many of us need to take the additional time to think through these thoughts and readjust our views.

If a baseball roster has 25 guys on it, then 25 guys are going to make the cut, not just one.  Sure, there may be competition to earn a specific spot, but pulling the lens back will show that the example is somewhat similar to the idea above.

The point is that competition sometimes leads us to become jealous or wish even wish failure on others when it really has to bearing to our success.  Our paths sometimes lead us to something greater, and we have to be open and awake to that.

Have you ever stopped to think about whether professional athletes are actually friends?

On one hand, as we have always stated, it would behoove athletes in the same sport to recognize that they are all on the same team when it comes to being in the same union.  There is no reason to fight with members of other teams within the same sport for that reason alone, let alone that it is just plain wrong.  After all, they all want the same thing:  a fair wage to play a game for a living.

But on the other hand, think about how players on the same team have to compete with not only the players in the other dugout or on the other sideline, but on their own team as well.  If a player isn't performing well, he will usually be replaced by another player.  It becomes a competition within the same team to make sure that playing time is earned so as to avoid the "business" of sports where a slumping athlete will be benched for someone who might produce.

A similar comparison might be two actors who are both auditioning for the same part.  Or even just two professionals both trying to get the same job.  Colleagues under the same heading (and perhaps in the same union) must now fight for work just to be on the proverbial playing field where the actual work might happen!

The common response to this is that "it's a business."  The business is to produce the best possible product so that the bottom line continues to grow.  Success is defined by the income brought in, not the quality of the work.

It's not something that is changed easily (or even needs to necessarily be changed).  But it does deserve a second thought when it comes to trying to empathize with others.  Perhaps some of the lessons learned in this conundrum can be extrapolated into our lives.