SPEAKING OF VALUES By Joseph Walker

| 30 Sep 2011 | 08:18

    Right where we want them According to one report, the last words of Gen. George Armstrong Custer before he fell at the Battle of Little Big Horn (often referred to as “Custer’s Last Stand”) on June 25, 1876, were these: “Hurrah, boys! We’ve got them! We’ll finish them up and then go home to our station!” Don’t ask me how we know this. The only people who could have possibly heard him speak his last words were Sioux warriors, who likely weren’t jotting down notes on what the white guy in the fancy uniform was saying. Or else they were Custer’s soldiers, which means they were... you know... dead. So I’m not going to vouch for the authenticity of this report. Still it’s a good story. You have to love the relentless - borderline ridiculous - optimism found in those words. Overwhelmingly outnumbered and with bullets and arrows flying all around, Custer tries to rally his rapidly diminishing troops with a cheer and a declaration that things are actually going well and that they should be home in time for supper. And then he died. But that’s beside the point. My Dad was always optimistic like that. When he was a senior in high school he was the favorite to win the state track and field title in the hurdles. Years of carrying 50-pound sacks of flour up and down the stairs at his father’s flour mill had given him strong legs and boundless energy for... well... bounding. He was fast, he was strong and he had red hair. As far as Dad was concerned, that made him pretty much unbeatable. The day of the state championships Dad’s coach approached him and asked him how he’d feel about running in an additional event that day. The school’s 100-yard dash man was ill, and the coach didn’t want to just lose those points toward the team championship. Dad knew he’d be going against a great sprinter from the southern part of the state. This kid had never been beaten; he was the two-time defending state 100-yard dash champion. So it wasn’t like the coach was expecting first place points for the team, anyway. “I don’t expect you to win,” the coach said, “but it would be great if you could at least finish high enough to score some points for the team.” “I’ll score points,” Dad said, flashing his best we’ve-got-them-right-where-we-want-them smile. “Just make sure there’s room in the trophy case for another first place trophy!” The coach had to like Dad’s bravado. But he also wanted him to be realistic. “Bud,” he said, “you know this guy has never lost a race, don’t you?” Dad shrugged. “What I know,” he said, “is that he’s never raced me.” Dad took that attitude with him to the starting line, where - as fate would have it - he lined up right next to the undefeated, two-time defending state champion. At the crack of the starter’s pistol, the champ sprinted out to a quick, seemingly insurmountable lead, and Dad stumbled out of the blocks in eighth place. He never was a quick starter, not even in the hurdles. But he had those long, strong legs and a heart that didn’t know how to quit. By the halfway point Dad had churned his way to second place, and he was closing the gap on first. In his mind he had that sprinter right where he wanted him. Dad surged past his unbeatable opponent at the finish line to claim the state 100-yard dash title. And then, an hour later, he went out and lost his hurdle race. But that’s beside the point. More often than not, am awkward start by an inexperienced sprinter will lead to defeat at the hands - or feet - of an undefeated state champion, just like being impossibly outnumbered on the battle field will usually end in a Last Stand for the outnumbered-ees. It’s that way in almost every aspect of our lives. We occasionally find ourselves in hopeless situations, with the odds stacked against us and conquest clearly in sight. At that point, it seems to me, it’s all about attitude. If you give up, you’re done. Which is OK, I guess - I mean, you’re probably done anyway, right? But if you refuse to “go gently into that good night,” and instead say to yourself, “We’ve got them right where we want them,” and you move ahead confidently in the face of... well... whatever - who knows? You may get scalped. Or you may end up with a gold medal around your neck. The only thing that matters is that you don’t surrender, and that you try. And that is precisely the point.