In Appreciation of Agony

“God, it’s killing me…”

-Roger Federer

In the 2009 Australian Open, Roger Federer received his second-place trophy after suffering an extremely painful, four-plus hour, five-set defeat to his rival, Rafael Nadal. When he took the mic to talk about the match and what went wrong, the then-28-year old only mustered out a few words of explanation before being brought to tears of anguish—the agony of defeat—something Nadal himself was able to relate to. He admitted to doing the same thing in the locker room after his own five set loss in the 2007 Wimbledon final to—guess who— Roger Federer. When the Patriots lost to the Eagles in 2018’s Super Bowl LII, Brady was later asked how he dealt with the loss, to which he answered “Cry. Mostly cry. You can’t win them all.” These are world-class athletes, greatest of their respective sports, being reduced to tears on the grandest stages—in Federer’s case, in the public eye. We see it often when emotional tears of joy or relief come pouring out after a championship is won— Michael Jordan’s iconic sobbing for his late father after winning his fourth title comes to mind. Kobe, LeBron, Odell Beckham Jr most recently— we become so happy for those athletes who demonstrate tears of happiness. But when it comes to the Adam Morrisons of the world bawling on the court after a heartbreaking loss…of course we don’t feel happy for them. Why should we? It’s the same type of tearfall that occurs after a brutal breakup; the kind that sets you back for days, maybe weeks, months, years of sorrow, waiting and hoping to wake up from the “nightmare,” a word Brady also described that loss to the Eagles. The agony of defeat…something that, if we’re lucky enough to experience it, should be appreciated as much as the thrill of victory.

You read that right. Pain, suffering, agony— it’s gotten a bad rep over…well…forever. And will continue to do so. Who likes to experience heartbreak? Who wants some pain in their life? Wouldn’t it be better to just feel nothing, and avoid all that discomfort and torture?

No way.

Life is about ups and downs. Sport is about wins and losses. And love…love is about the most emotional highs of heartfelt bliss, and some of the most excruciating all-time-low moments of misery, sadness, and emotional pain. But that is not only the price of admission, the gamble of participation—rather, it is the reward for engaging in life’s greatest treat: the ability to feel emotion—the proof that you are truly living, and living with passion. I would hands-down rather suffer some of the most gut-wrenching moments in life—even if it means coming to tears for minutes, hours, days, etc–in order to chase what I desire, in lieu of living a life with no interest, no passion, no emotion, and no damage. And if the greatest athletes in the world aren’t afraid of that emotional scarring on their journey for what they love, then why should we run from it? From personal experience, I can confidently say: the pain makes it all worth it.

I was 14 years old, playing in a tennis tournament consolation-bracket-semifinals (yeah…real high stakes here…). Oh, did I mention there were only four people in this bracket? We were basically playing for reps and pride here. And that pride? I wanted it badly. So, you can imagine my excitement beginning to boil over as I look a set lead, and went up 5-1 in the second set with multiple match points. For non-tennis fans, this is leading 28-3 in the third quarter of a football game. You’d practically have to make a million micro mistakes to not win in that situation (you can probably already see where this is going…ugh). So, sure enough, wanting to end on an ‘exclamation mark’ I started trying to crush the ball for the game-winning point— missing the court by over ten feet on multiple occasions. Seriously. Even so, while I lost some momentum, I still had so many chances to wrap the match up over the next hour. But I continued to slowly unravel, losing the second set in a tiebreak. I almost wish I could say I simply got smoked in the deciding third set; but instead, in heartbreaking dramatic fashion, I finally had my fate sealed after another tiebreak, as the kid across the court went ecstatic with his epic comeback win. And with his ecstasy came my associated agony. I held it together just fine at first, shaking his hand, doing the normal ‘good sportsmanship’ stuff…but once I got in my mom’s car, and she asked me what had happened (not in a demeaning way, just genuinely curious for a little breakdown)…I completely lost it. I started sobbing uncontrollably—full Adam Morrison—crying over an apparent meaningless match, in a meaningless bracket, to a kid I never saw again, on a court I never visited again. I felt pathetic. It was without a doubt the most internal pain I’d ever felt after any kind of sports-related event in my life. And somehow…in hindsight…it became one of my most treasured memories.

When it comes to watching sports…I’m not a crier. I get bummed, sure, watching any of my favorite players lose in big moments. I was in disbelief when Nadal lost a five set, five-hour-plus epic to Novak Djokovic in the 2012 Australian Open finals, having stayed up literally all night until 6:30 AM to watch Nadal give away a fifth set lead. I was in mild state of light sports depression when Brady got strip-sacked and fumbled away that aforementioned Super Bowl against the Eagles. But it’s not my game, not my battle, so of course there’s no reason to feel that down, right? Cut to 2008, as a 17-year old, when I was left completely demoralized as the Patriots blew their perfect season to the heavy underdog New York Giants. Everything about that game is so vivid in my memory…the touchdown to Randy Moss to take the lead with two minutes to go after the Pats’ high-octane offense had inconceivably been shut down most of the game. The dropped interception by Asante Samuel that would have ended it. The 4^th and inches conversion by Brandon Jacobs. Of course, the David Tyree helmet catch. The easy touchdown to Plaxico Burress. And perhaps most painful of all, Brady’s deep hail mary—probably the farthest I’ve ever seen a ball travel in the air— coming up a few inches too short to land in Moss’ hands, instead being batted away by the cornerback. It was a potential completion that would’ve given an easy field goal opportunity at the least, and more likely a chance for a game winning touchdown that would’ve cemented this team as the greatest of all time with no debate. Instead, however, it wasn’t meant to be—I watched the time tick down to 0:00, when my Pats fan friend and I then left the Super Bowl party within the minute. I dropped him off, went home, sat on my couch torturously watching Sportscenter highlights of the game—and yes, let some emotion out in the form of tears. Crying—a near adult— because my favorite team lost the Super Bowl. Yet today when I look back, that 2007-08 Patriots season remains one of my most treasured memories.

If sports losses, whether our own or our favorite players to cheer for, can leave us sobbing like babies…then you’d better believe it’s infinitely worse when we’re talking about the loss in the game of love. There’s something about finding that incredible person whose beauty and irresistible personality just consumes you in the most magnificent way possible. The kind of person who fills your heart with warmth and happiness when you hear from them; the kind of person who, regardless of whatever nonsense is going on in the world, work, etc, makes you feel as if everything is going right in life; the kind of person who, to borrow a terrible phrase from Charlie Sheen’s meltdown years back, makes you feel like you are “winning.” Maybe it’s odd comparing sports to relationships…but I’m not one to be accused of taking life too seriously, nor would I ever want to be. When you are ‘winning’ in life by being with that person, you are absolutely untouchable to any punches, shots, plays that the world throws at you. You are undefeatable.

That is….until you lose. Yes…just like in sport, losses come in love. As Brady so simply put, you really can’t win them all. And when it’s your Super Bowl; when it’s your person whose uninhibited smile and laugh can get your heart feeling like it’s warming your entire body; your significant other whose embrace is so comforting to your soul that it makes you never want to let go of that hug; your lover whose flaws and bad habits and shortcomings are beautiful treasures in your eyes; nothing hurts more than losing that ‘Super Bowl.’ It happens to nearly all of us at some point…everything seems to be going perfect, like those ’07 Pats. We’ve found love, and we are lucky enough to have found it with the person of our dreams. We’re making memories, going on trips, celebrating holidays together, meeting families, talking about our everlasting future together…it’s like we’re the Falcons in 2018’s Super Bowl XLI, up 28-3 in the third quarter against—who else—the Patriots. Sure, maybe it’s not a clean sweep ‘perfect game’ to that point— there’s arguments or disagreements here and there, because every relationship has problem-solving and compromising as key components to making things work. But against all odds, here we are, Atlanta owner Arthur Blank dancing on the sidelines, Nadal going up the break in the fifth with an easy backhand to take a 4-2 40-15 lead, Brady and Moss hugging in celebration after taking the lead and only a quick two minutes away from putting the cherry on top of 19-0 Perfection.

But…life happens…crazy things in life happen. That incredible love never fades…but sometimes, relationships can slip from our grasp. Of course, some causes may be our own mistakes and regrets— Matt Ryan had no business taking a sack on third down and getting out of field goal range. Nadal makes that backhand 99/100 times. Asante Samuel catches that interception just as often. Maybe we were a bit too needy; maybe our insecurities reared their heads too often; maybe we shouldn’t have tried to move so quickly, rushing the process and getting a bit careless as Nadal did when he saw that wide-open court—for better or for worse, we’ll never know. Yet other times? It’s just completely out of our control. The ‘IncrEdelman’ catch? Should’ve been an incompletion at best; interception more likely. Nadal had no say in Djokovic’s ability to continue finding reserve levels of energy after literally collapsing on the court after one late point. And the Tyree helmet catch…please, don’t remind me. This is to say that sometimes, the other person has too much going on in their lives. Maybe despite our own best efforts and desires, the other person just isn’t able to reciprocate that same love. We hate hearing this, but deep down we know it’s so true in life: Sometimes, the timing just isn’t right. It’s heartbreaking to think of pure random chance proving so overpowering…but it’s a reality. Little by little—slowly enough to become its own form of drawn-out torture, yet quickly enough for us to be blindsided—it’s gone. We lose. The victory we knew was coming gets snatched out of our arms. And like it or not…we have to deal with it. How? The same way Federer, Nadal, and Brady dealt with losses. To repeat that Brady quote: “Cry. Mostly cry.”

It sucks. It’s brutal. It can paralyze you emotionally for months. The future you envisioned, ripped from your fantasies. The pictures in your phone, reminders of what could’ve been. Certain songs you hear, forever stirring up that emotion, sometimes even to tears. I thought losing that tennis match hurt; I thought watching the Pats miss out on perfection was painful; well, to anybody who’s felt this loss on love’s grandest stage; it’s very apparent that I’d rather relive the Helmet Catch a million times than endure that type of love loss. And yet despite all that…heartbreak in life can and should burn as one of the most treasured memories in life.

How can this be? How can some of the most devastating losses in life bring about some of the greatest recollections? It’s all in the perspective you take, and the appreciation of emotion, even that of agony. Without emotion, life is bland, black and white, and boring. Imagine if you spent your entire life with no stakes, no heart, no love put on the line…how awful would that be? Picture a heartbeat. It moves up and down, up and down. Those peaks and valleys are signs that that person is alive. What happens if it flatlines? Exactly. It’s not sexy nor fun to talk about the downs in life…the big losses…but there is something magical about the ability to feel that negative emotion and sadness. Because, well, exactly that: it means you’re feeling, period. Emotion is the color in life. It’s the proof of passion; the proof that we are living in a manner of doing the things we care for; truly, deeply love. I’ll play Mario Kart on occasion, but if I lose, I’m certainly not going to pout or cry about something so trivial. If I meet someone in a bar and strike up a conversation, and that person all of a sudden decides to talk to some other guy, then so be it. Maybe a blow to my ego, but there was no genuine desire there aside from a bit of attraction. Imagine your entire life being like this: no real concern nor care for the outcome of your day-to-day happenings. Sure, you might never hurt…but shouldn’t you be concerned about not feeling? And no, I’m not concerned only with the victories—there is true value in life in being able to experience some awful, awful heartbreak. Why? Because your heart is in it. 

When I look back on that tennis match I blew, I remember so many missed opportunities. I remember the way I felt crying in the car. I remember that pain. But also, I remember that I completely cared. Tennis was the first thing in my life that I took an active interest in getting good at; something that I took so much of my free time to practice and hone, working to be better every day, challenging myself to play under pressure by competing in tournaments and putting my heart on the line and risking loss. Of course I cared if I won or loss, and while I never wanted to lose, it only drove me so crazy because of all the investment I put in. It’s a feeling I never got with videogames as a kid, where there were no real stakes, no real emotional attachment to the outcome, just a matter of resetting and trying again—a valuable lesson in itself, but not one that provided me the proof that I was doing something that was important to my soul, something that stirred emotion from pursuing. I hate that loss for what it made me feel at the time; but I love it for showing me that I had found the gold mine in life by having a passion so strong that it could drive me to tears.

The Patriots’ 18-1 season…I will never forget that night. But as distressing as that loss was…damn, that was an incredible season. The week-to-week hunt for perfection, the Pats giving the league the metaphoric middle finger by running up the score against opponents, Brady and Moss both setting records for touchdowns in their respective positions…that was the season I truly become a Brady fanboy, and the most fun I’ve ever had watching football. Every weekend, watching the games with my best friends, reading articles on guys like Steelers safety Anthony Smith guaranteeing a win over them (nope) or Chargers DE Igor Olshansky boasting “Who? Oh please…We’re not worried about the Patriots” (whoops), even popping our own Martinelli’s sparkling cider when they finished the regular season 16-0 (we definitely weren’t the coolest collection of high school seniors). And boy, were the Pats hated…LaDainian Tomlinson, Don Shula, Kurt Warner, Eric Mangini…all these different players complaining about the Patriots being cheaters (this was the birth of Spygate). It was the Patriots against the world…and while I’ve continued to root heavily for Brady every year after that, I don’t think there was a season I cared more about, nor a Super Bowl I was more hyped for, than the 2007-2008 one. To think about negating all those awesome memories throughout the season just because of a really tough ending…no way. And on that ending: that night, I remember feeling a little embarrassment (amongst all the incredible disappointment) that I was actually crying about a professional sports team losing. But I realized much later on that I wasn’t crying because the Patriots blew a chance to be undefeated; I was crying because I had put so much hope into this season, this culmination of their quest. On one hand, it felt so pathetic that a team that I had literally no ties to ,aside from rooting interest, could move me so much. However, now I see it as pretty special, to think that I could find excitement, desire, and strong emotion from something so simple in life.

And last but certainly not least, the loss of love. Whew…even just thinking about such a thing can honestly bring me to shed a few. But this one should be so obvious…yes, it can hurt like the greatest internal pain fathomable. Yes, it can keep you up at night. And yes, it can leave you feeling completely lost and your heart feeling injured beyond recovery… But damn, take a step back and look at the implication of this all. The ability to love somebody so much that you are devastated, and I mean devastated, to think about that person out of your life? How incredible is that?! How magnificent to be able to feel that connection, even if it ends up being just temporary, with somebody who fills your life with so much zeal, meaning, and passion?! How special is it that you have memories forever with somebody you love—a love that will never diminish—which you can always look back on and smile?  How much more radiant is your portrait of life with all that color, added by that person who you would do anything for? Life isn’t just one color—there’s happy and sad hues. But at the end of the day, it’s still color. They’re still your memories. And there’s a reason that, while you probably can’t remember this morning’s commute to work or the last thing you said to your boss, you can vividly remember what you and that former love were wearing during that first shared kiss, and the way your heart leapt with euphoria during it, every detail of even the leading moments—the strongest and most beautiful highs—imprinted in your mind forever…And maybe things didn’t exactly end the way you’d hoped—like that tennis match…like Super Bowl XLII…but damn…how impressive is the raw emotion, ecstasy or agony, that you can feel from life’s color? From a simple tennis match; from a professional football team; from somebody you truly love? We see tears as a sign of distress and heartache; but to me, tears are a sign of passion, a proof of care in the world, and evidence that you are truly feeling, and truly living with the things or people that mean the absolute most to you. And although you might lose in the end, you’re still playing the game with passion, with stakes, with true emotion— and that is the greatest treasure I could ever hope to have.

Emotional pain is part of life. You can’t run from it forever, unless you really want that vanilla life with no smiles and no tears. Go to work, go home, eat, sleep, repeat. Ugh. Save the cookie cutter basic life for someone else; I’ll take the heartbreak alongside the heartwarming adventures in life any day. Some of those memories hurt…but they’re part of your story. Some of the most exciting parts, in fact; so don’t do yourself a disservice by discounting and neglecting them. The heartbreaking moments will never get the appreciation they fully deserve…but there’s something so fascinating about them—we’ll never give up the quest to transfer that agony to joy. Brady surely thinks back on that 2008 Super Bowl, and in fact even admitted that he’d trade two of his championships to have that one. Nadal, after his recent Australian Open win, uncharacteristically dropped an F-bomb admitting he had been worrying mid-match, “F*ck, one more time up a break in the fifth and I’m going to lose again like in 2012,” inferring that he still thinks about that loss. I think about those outrageous misses I had when in that epic collapse in tennis, imagining one of them hitting the line for a resounding victory instead. Occasionally, I’ll watch the clip of that Randy Moss hail mary near-catch, picturing what could’ve happened if he caught it. And let’s be honest…that passionate love for another is always there; those memories are going to be present forever, and although it may instigate tears at even the thought of them, that flame of adoration is going to burn inside us eternally. We can’t help but play through the love-laden highlight reel in our minds, hoping that this time, maybe—just maybe— things will change, and we’ll end up with the ‘win’ that means more to us than anything else. It sounds crazy, illogical, and irrational— but when that agony lives inside of you, you’ll forever fantasize about transforming it to ecstasy, even if your failed efforts bring you to tears. And that’s perfectly fine.

All these unfortunate losses, these moments of emotional agony…they are what make us real. What make us feel. Evidence that we care with passion. Roger Federer may have felt embarrassed about crying on national television after coming up short in the championship round…but damn, did that guy show a lot of heart for his life’s quest. Find something and someone capable of bringing you to tears—good and bad—and hold on as long as you possibly can; even if you don’t hold on forever, the journey along the way will undoubtedly provide the most vibrant highlights of your life. Cherish the ecstasy, but take some time to appreciate the agony; for it is further proof that you lived with the passion that brought your life to life.

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