When I was going through the Boston airport the day of the Boston marathon after it was over it was wonderful to see the competitors in the official t-shirts and medals around their necks. And, of course, there were those hobbling around nursing cramps, strains, exhaustion and the usual cast of maladies associated with the endurance competitions...

My heart dropped when I saw my daughter lying face down on the soccer field crying her eyes out writhing in pain.

Few things can worse than that for a Dad.

When I saw her and the player from other team’s feet collide moving in opposite directions and her lower leg move abnormally out from her knee I cringed

Every time I watch my daughter play soccer I’m amazed at how hard she tries. She plays her heart out. Never gives it less than her best.

She’ll be 17 in two weeks. And, as a teenager, she many balls to juggle. It’s a complicated world for her finding her way through life with friends, wondering which group she best belongs to, is there a boyfriend out there, what college should I apply to, am I ready for SAT test, etc.

I was sitting in my studio over-looking the ancient riverbed that makes up the canyon my backyard sits above. The phone rang, I didn’t recognize the number, but, thought, hey, what the heck, I’ll answer it any way (I usually don’t if I don’t know the number) as it may be a complete surprise and bring good fortune.

I’m glad I answered. It was a complete surprise and it did bring good fortune.

It was the iconic show, Sunday Morning, hosted by Charles Osgood.

I was asked by the show’s producer if I thought winning mattered?

Without hesitation I said, “Yes, of course, winning matters.” He then asked, “Why”? And, I answered with unwavering conviction, “Because, I never met a person who couldn’t wait to get up and fail”.