Losing is no fun for anyone, but it's no excuse for silence

Sometimes a loss hurts so badly it leaves you speechless. The pain pinches your vocal chords. It leaves you too stunned to utter anything articulate, or too angry to say anything for the fear you'll later regret it.

It takes courage to speak up after a defeat or poor performance, particularly if you're a teenager asked by a reporter, a stranger, to say a few words.

I've always admired young athletes who after a game are able to speak to an adult holding a notepad or tape recorder and articulate their thoughts so well that they sound wise beyond their years.

It happens 99 percent of the time. Kids today are so well-spoken, and yet I never cease to be amazed considering their age.

I'll often think, With that level of maturity and poise, that kid will do well in life, no matter which career path he or she chooses.

Recently, a local football juggernaut suffered a last-second loss and one of its top players was approached after the game by one of our reporters for an interview.

The athlete, a senior and main player, declined. Twice.

Last spring, a local girls soccer player, one who received tons of press during her high school career, turned down a reporter after a season-ending loss.

Coaches, too, occasionally are in no mood to talk after a game.

A couple of years ago after Lake Zurich's football team suffered a gut-wrenching loss at Libertyville on a sunny fall day, then-coach Mike DiMatteo sat on a concrete embankment outside the visitors' locker room, stewing. When approached by me and another reporter, he told us, "I have nothing to say."

I was stunned, because DiMatteo had been nothing but first-class to me since I met him. When requested, the likable coach always had something to say.

When I got back to the office to write my story, there was a voice-mail for me from an embarrassed DiMatteo, apologizing for "acting like a baby," as he put it, and saying that if I wanted to call him back he would gladly answer any questions I had for him.

I called him back, he apologized again and we had a good conversation. Which we always did.

Leadership. Responsibility. Obligation.

As the leader of his team, Mike DiMatteo knew it was his responsibility to be its voice-piece, win or lose. He knew he had an obligation to the press because he knew the fans of Lake Zurich's football team deserved to hear from their head coach.

He was mature enough to recognize his error.

Coaches have so much to teach their athletes, from Xs-and-Os stuff to conduct on and off the field to life in general. "Life lessons," coaches always talk about.

An athlete agreeing to be interviewed by a reporter? After a defeat?

Young man, young lady, you need to speak.

You need to be a leader, because people -- your coach, your family, your teammates, your schoolmates, the little kids who want to be you someday -- are expecting you to be.

If they're not -- or if you're not -- then you can't be the senior leader, the quarterback, the captain, the star striker, the ace of the pitching staff, the go-to guy.

Understand that no one expects the athlete to use big words, make astute observations or say anything profound. What's important is that he or she accepts accountability, remains humble and tries to be positive, even after a tough game.

Call it a test of character.

Trust me, people are watching you. And listening to you.

And when you clam up, your silence is deafening.

Look, losing stinks, there's no doubt about. A reporter would never -- or should never -- ask a freshman or sophomore to be the voice-piece for his or her varsity team. And certainly varsity athletes, even seasoned seniors, are still kids.

But they need to understand -- and it needs to be taught to them -- that when given an opportunity to speak on behalf of their team, they need to oblige.

They need to be leaders.