WHEN LOSING IS HARD TO SWALLOW

Been thinking a lot about the word “choker”.

I hate that term. I think it’s used by people who are trying to blame someone for their own sense of betrayal.

Anyone using the word probably needs to take a closer look at themselves.

According to an ESPN poll, 70% of Americans (or at least the 75,000 who have nothing better to do that respond to online polls) are feeling betrayed by the same women’s soccer team that had captured their imaginations over the past three weeks. In case you missed it, they were beaten by Japan in a penalty shootout at the FIFA World Cup.

Many Kiwis are feeling the same way about the Silver Ferns’ OT loss to Australia at the world netball championships.

People, get over it!

The reason I hate the word “choker” is that it’s based on an assumption that someone “should” win. And the thing I love most about sport (and the reason I never bet on it) is that anything can happen and often does.

Just ask the Wallabies after they unraveled against Manu Samoa over the weekend.

Anyone remember the 2002 America’s Cup when Black Magic was supposed to sail rings around the challenger, but sank?

Americans probably invented the expression “choker” because they pretty much expect their teams to win any time they take the sporting field.

The benchmark for “choking” was set low by a Buffalo Bills NFL team that lost four consecutive Super Bowls from 1990-93. Of course, they’re also the only club to ever play in four consecutive Super Bowls, but that’s conveniently overlooked.

Using the “c” word automatically disrespects the winners. It doesn’t give them any credit for a performance that was superior on the day for any number of reasons, whether it be preparation, inspiration or simply dumb luck.

This week, the American public underestimated the Japanese courage and resilience (as if history hadn’t thrown up enough previous examples of that) and got caught up in the hype around their own team, despite a loss to Sweden in pool play.

To be fair, sports are often guilty of cranking up expectations to an unreasonable extent for commercial reasons. If you make big promises, you run the risk of wearing that “choker” label when you fall short.

That’s why athletes are often at pains to claim underdog status - something about under-promising and over-delivering. Are you making notes, LeBron James and the Miami Heat?

You can almost understand the “choker” tag if it’s applied to a team or individual with a record of not winning on the biggest stage. For a long time, leftie Phil Mickelson had that reputation in golf, until he captured the first of his now four Majors.

But the US soccer women are reigning Olympic champions, so they’ve delivered in the past and very recently. Closer to home, the Ferns took Commonwealth Games gold last year in almost identical circumstances to the way they lost this month’s world championship final.

Which raises another point – just because someone won last time doesn’t mean they should win next time. Sport doesn’t work like that and anyone who thinks it does has either never played it at any competitive level or they’ve conveniently forgotten.

Here’s something else for the armchair critics to consider – maybe the Silver Ferns simply aren’t as good as their Australian counterparts. Maybe their previous successes – and there have been a few – are more a case of overachievement.

There aren’t many sports where New Zealand can justifiably expect to beat their rivals from across the Tasman, given the Aussies’ bigger population base and more advanced talent development structures. Rugby may be the only one and even that advantage isn’t as clearcut as it used to be.

Several teams, though, have shown they can compete and steal the odd victory, often significant ones. The rugby league Kiwis are a good example and so are basketball’s Tall Blacks.

I would submit the Ferns are another. At no stage in their history have they dominated the rivalry enough to justify outright favouritism against the Diamonds.

Sure, the NZ women held a six-goal halftime lead, but even that doesn’t mean they should have won. Top-level contests are usually a case of ebbs and flows, and often decided by who gets the last laugh.

If you’re a sports fan, it’s OK to feel disappointed, but remember that's nothing compared to what the players and coaches are felling, having invested physically, emotionally and financially over years for this shot at glory.

Take a step back, look at the bigger picture and try to appreciate the positives rather than get caught up in the vicious negative spin.

They say sport doesn’t develop character; it reveals it. That applies as much to those on the sidelines as it does to those within them.