Learning to Lose
We all want our kids to win, but it’s important to understand that it’s okay to lose, too.
I’m playing Mario Kart 8 Deluxe with my 5-year-old son. I’m not just trying to win. I’m trying to crush him.
I think I’m a pretty good dad. When he plays games, I’m there to play the role of supporter, not annihilator. I wasn’t trying to be spiteful. I didn’t succumb to his (surprisingly robust) trash talk. And it wasn’t a case of tough love, though I was indeed trying to teach him something.
It was the hardest lesson yet: learning how to lose.
You see, we’ve got some friends coming over, and their son (8) and daughter (6) really want to play Mario Kart. They’ve been playing for a few years now and are quite good; the 8-year-old actually gives me a decent challenge. My son, on the other hand, has only been playing for a couple of weeks.
He’s going to lose. He really doesn’t like to lose.
Look, I recognize that this is perfectly normal behavior for a 5-year-old. Hell, I was a terrible loser well into my, uh… 20s. It’s perfectly normal. I’m not trying to turn my son into an emotionless robot here. I just, y’know, want him to be prepared. There’s nothing wrong with losing, let alone to someone who’s far more experienced.
It made me think about how we’d approached games in the past. We all love to see our kids succeed at things. Watching them realize that they can overcome an obstacle, knowing that they can win, that’s priceless.
And so when my son was younger, we usually bent the rules a little bit. He was too young to understand how to properly play a board, card or video game anyway; to get him into it, to build his confidence up, we’d usually let a few things slide.
> Whoa, you got rid of your Uno cards so quickly, that was great! What do I have left? Oh, just two Wild Draw 4 cards. You were, uh, so quick that I never got to use them.
> Oh no, why am I going so slowly? Whoops, I must be pressing the wrong button! Wow, did you just pass me? Good job!
> Wait, did I just forget to attack on my turn? Oh man, how forgetful of me. I guess you can knock out my Pokémon now.
But as he grew older, I struggled with making that transition from managed play to playing properly. I just didn’t know when the right time was to switch from letting him pick me a team of underpowered Pokémon in our battles to “no, you’re not supposed to know what I’ve chosen before we battle, that’s how the game works.”
What I do know is that having a meltdown isn’t exactly a sustainable state of affairs when he does lose. There’s a lightning-quick, trash-talking 8-year-old coming, and he’s not going to show any mercy.
I thought that teaching him that it’s okay to lose might be, if not easy, then at least familiar. I’ve already spent plenty of time gently coaching and encouraging him through single-player games. Sure, he’ll get frustrated when he falls into pits in Super Mario Bros. Wonder. But it doesn’t consume him; we’ll talk it through, and he’ll either try it again or try a different stage. I might need to give him a quiet reminder, but he does seem to accept that some things are a bit too difficult for him.
I thought that experience would make this easier. But I underestimated the human angle: my son is really competitive. It’s not about winning, it’s about defeating other people.
And so there I am, trying to lap him in Mario Kart, wondering what reaction I’ll get. The end of the race is met with silence. Okay, this isn’t too bad. He peers at the standings. And then he bursts into tears and storms off to his room.
Right, we might need a bit more work here.
“Look, I recognize that this is perfectly normal behavior for a 5-year-old. Hell, I was a terrible loser well into my, uh… 20s. It’s perfectly normal. I’m not trying to turn my son into an emotionless robot here. I just, y’know, want him to be prepared. There’s nothing wrong with losing, let alone to someone who’s far more experienced.”
We race more over the next few days. I keep up the wins, but I also keep up a heavy stream of commentary, explaining things as calmly and logically as I can. “Don’t forget, I’ve been playing Mario Kart since I was 11 years old.” “I know how to take that shortcut because I’ve played this track many times before.” “I heard from my friend, his son has been practicing, don’t forget that he’s been playing a lot longer than you have.”
The latter point seems to sink in. He talks about how he needs to practice Mario Kart “or else I’ll lose to the 8-year-old.” He says it so often that his two-year-old sister waddles over, controller in hand, saying “PRACTICE MARIO KART?”
At least, the day arrives. Our friends are here and the kids immediately launch into Mario Kart. I hold my breath. There goes the 8-year-old, of course, zooming off into the distance. But my son is relatively competitive! He and the 6-year-old tussle over second place and he’s more than holding his own. (That he uses steering assists and she isn’t is going quietly unmentioned.)
Everyone has a great time. The 8-year-old is now my son’s Mario Kart idol; he even cheers him on in a race against me. (“DADDY, HE’LL DESTROY YOU!” Thanks son, love you too.) But that’s fine. The important thing was he didn’t seem upset at all to lose — he was just having a great time. And hey, it’s cheesy, but that’s what it’s all about, right?
Buoyed by my success, I wanted to re-emphasize the point by celebrating what he’d learned.
“Hey bud. I’m proud of you. You didn’t come first, and you were okay with that because he’s been playing for longer than you. You did great!”
“Daddy, did you see? I was so fast! I beat [the 6-year-old]. She was soooo slow! I told her to RACE FASTER NEXT TIME, SLOWPOKE!”
I guess we need to learn how to be a good winner.
 | A guest post by
|
Absolutely love this post!! My youngest is 6 and can now hold his own in various kirby and mario games. Go back 12 months ago and he would have regular meltdowns because he kept losing or dying. My wife would berate me for introducing games to him that were 'too hard' to play blah blah blah. However one day I sat with my son and said, I know it's frustrating bud when you keep dying but if you keep practicing the game or the level you will find a way to win or maybe the game will help you win. (Some Mario games have assists or characters that make the game easier to play) So he practiced and he got good. If he does meet a brick wall then I offer to help him past it but most of the time he wants to figure it out himself.
For me problem solving and not always winning, is an important part of being resilient.
Thanks for sharing your mario kart experience with your son, it's a very heartfelt and entertaining read!!
I've got an 11, 7, and 5yo. We've definitely had to navigate the emotional perils of our oldest beating down his siblings in an assortment of games. As much as I've tried to steer them toward cooperative experiences, their favorite genre has become same screen competitive games like Rounds, Bopl Battle, and Party Animals. I've had to frequently remind all of them that if the game has become unfun for any one person, then we need to take a break; losing is part of playing. I've also coached my oldest on how to still have fun playing against people that are significantly below your skill level, and how to make sure they're still having fun. Reminding him that he does not have to win every single match for everyone else to know that he's better at the game. It seems that his favorite thing is to play games that make him feel powerful, so I often have to reign him in when he's flexing a bit too hard on friends and family. It's even caused friction with his uncle (my older brother that only gets to visit twice a year) who has no kids and is not such a great loser.