It started with a “fun” indoor hockey tournament for U11, U12, and U13 kids. Organizers encouraged U10 players to join too, so our boys and girls eagerly signed up. The kids loved hockey but most had never played indoor before—not a single match. They didn’t even have a goalie. “No problem,” we were told. “You’ll get an extra player on the field.”
On the day of the tournament, luck of the draw placed our little U10 team in a pool against U13 players—many of them provincial stars. It was going to be a brutal mismatch, but the kids were undaunted. They were ready to try.
That is, until the games began.
Imagine their horror as these older, more experienced players started flicking the ball hard into the goals—narrowly missing their heads. With no goalie, they scrambled to defend, ducking to avoid taking the ball to the face. I looked at the organisers, expecting intervention. But no.
“Although it’s a fun tournament,” they said, “there are prizes. Flicking stays.”
And so, these younger kids had to face game after game against Goliaths. And let me tell you—they played with the hearts of Davids. Every time a goal was scored against them, I noticed immediately that the little eyes of the entire team searched for mine. They weren’t looking for pity—they were looking for hope.
I stood on the sidelines and shouted encouragement so loud the whole arena could hear. “I’m so proud of you! You’re giving it your all—keep going!” When another goal slipped past, I called out the name of the player who had tried to stop it, telling them they had the heart of a lion.
Other parents stayed seated, probably mortified by my enthusiasm. I must have looked ridiculous—a crazy mother cheering for a team that was clearly outmatched. But I didn’t care. I knew that without encouragement, defeat could crush their spirit. I wasn’t about to let that happen.
And then, something amazing happened. As these smaller kids fought with fire in their hearts, the entire arena began to cheer for them. These underdogs—playing with courage far beyond their years—captured everyone’s attention.
This tournament got me thinking about the way we live our lives.
How often do we step into arenas we don’t feel qualified to be in? How many times do we face Goliaths—challenges that seem impossible? We try, we fight, and when defeat after defeat hits, we start to lose hope.
But what if we had someone cheering for us? Someone standing tall on the sidelines, reminding us that our effort matters, that our courage shines, and that we are not alone. What if we kept going, even when victory seemed out of reach?
Here’s the truth: life’s defeats often lead to unexpected victories. The people who once watched silently will become your supporters. But it starts with believing in yourself—and having someone who refuses to let you give up.
So, who’s cheering for you? And who are you standing up for?
