Locus of control and fandom

We won.

I find that sentence to be the most fraudulent uttered on this planet. Bernie Madoff was more honest.

As I watched the Olympics this summer, my disgust for the phrase returned. It’s not the sentence — it’s the context.

“The United States won gold again today…”

“The French medaled in Men’s Slalom…”

“Norway led with the most gold this summer…”

And then the cheers from the crowds. The video from pubs and living rooms across the globe. The placards: We won.

You didn’t win shit.

The whole thing rubs me the wrong way.

WE WON NOTHING

The United States did not win gold in the 500 meter speed skating event. Erin Jackson did. I didn’t see you getting your stoned, fat ass out of bed to practice at 4 in the morning since you were ten years old. No. You didn’t. She did. She did.

I make the same complaint after the World Series, watching the inebriated fans jump about in the street crying, “we won, we won.” Or after the Superbowl. Or after the university teams take a title.

The fans, the students, the watchers, won nothing.

When an actor or a movie wins an Oscar, or a musician or band wins a Grammy, I don’t hear anyone say: We won. As fans, they recognize the actor or film or song or artist won.

Why do sports fans, who are characteristically watching from the stands or the sidelines or the couch, insistent on asserting personal glory? Sure, you can say it’s your team. Or you are a fan of that athlete. But what’s with boasting and trash-talking as if you were the one to succeed? What’s with moping around or raging as if you were the one who lost?

You did nothing.

Maybe you bought a ticket, or a trademarked shirt. That’s your investment. Even the team owner cannot represent he or she won or lost. His or her teamwon or lost.

It’s just confusing, and it infuriates me. I envision this overweight, out-of-shape, beer-guzzling lunatic screaming from his recliner as if he is involved. You are no more than a watcher, sir. Unless you placed a bet. You won a bet. Not the game. You slept through the sixth inning, for Pete’s sake.

It’s plagiarism. It’s theft. You are stealing someone else’s thunder. Another person’s gold. Or sharing someone’s failure. Which is just as twisted. And more insidious.

SELF SERVING BIAS AND LOCUS OF CONTROL

It’s self-serving bias. You’re taking credit for positive events outside of your control. And it’s directly related to a confused locus of control.

People have the belief that the location — the locus — of control in life is external, internal, or a realistic and healthy combination of the two.

For example, a person with an internal locus of control will often take blame or credit where he or she should not:

“We won the World Series from our couch.”

“There’s so much animal abuse in this town. It’s my fault for not donating more.”

A person with an external locus of control assigns blame or credit externally (usually blame):

“I failed my exam because of that nasty professor.”

“Because of God, we won today.”

“We lost because of the ref’s terrible call.”

The healthy person identifies when results are in or outside of her control.

“My favorite band won a grammy.”

“I failed my exam because I didn’t study.”

“My relationship is failing because we’re both not working hard enough to resolve the issues.”

PARENTING

The whole thing reminds me of the self-esteem starved parent who somehow believe his or her child’s success is his or her own. You didn’t win the spelling bee. Your child did. Your ego and your resume remains unaltered. But for your financial and emotional support and guidance, you didn’t do it.

Yes, you paid for the coach and the lessons and the review books. Yes, you were up all night rehearsing or editing or listening. That’s good, supportive parenting. Just like the team owner invests in the team and the team’s necessities. Just like the country’s Olympic committee raises funds to get the athletes to the field. That’s support.

That’s not doing it.

The parent who leaves the field angry at the refs because it’s their fault “we lost.” The parent who changes piano teachers six times, who blames the coach, who has his or her ego so wrapped up in the success or failure of that little person, is expressing madness.

How about the parent who enters her child into a beauty contest to feel beautiful?

You see where this is going.

You didn’t win that contest. Your daughter did. (And, I’m sure at some point, I will write an article ranting about the objectification, child abuse, sexual exploitation of children, and general evil of beauty contests…)

Your poise is not tied to your kid. Your success is not tied to that professional team’s trophies. Your worth and value are not impacted at all.

Is your need for recognition so intense that you live this lie? Do you take credit for co-workers’ successes? Sure, if you’re the manager of that team, you bear responsibility and revel in glory, just as a sports team’s manager does. You were part of the team. Part of the effort.

Otherwise, get real.

YOUR WORDS GUIDE YOUR REALITY

I lost count of the number of medals my son won in cross-country. He won. I was happy for him. I made sure he had everything he needed medically and nutritionally. I bought so many pairs of running shoes; I lost count of those long before losing count of the number of medals. I was at every meet I could to support him. So he could see me clap. So I could be there with a shoulder if he did not do as well as he expected. But I never ran a race. I did not win or lose.

I was and am a fan. And his loving mom. I gave birth to him. So, philosophically, he couldn’t have won without that effort. But the race wins were his.

If I won anything, it’s his presence in my life. For that, I will say, “I won.”

Choose your words carefully, especially as a parent or leader. You could also consider how you communicate your favorite team’s wins and losses.

And, perhaps, examine your ego for signs of weakness if saying “they won” makes you uncomfortable.