The Value of Trophies

The national championship trophy was presented at a basketball game recently. After a championship victory, everybody wants to hold the trophy. Sometimes they kiss it. One time a pro bowler dropped his championship trophy and it shattered into various pieces about ten seconds after he received it. Tragic, yet quite humorous. Sometimes people refer to animals they have hunted and conquered as trophies. Trophies in different sports can be shaped into cups, mugs, belts, animals, or posing athletes. And in the most outlandish usage of the term, men sometimes inexplicably refer to their spouses as trophy wives. (I'm not a female so I don't know how I would feel being referred to as a trophy.) When I was growing up, trophies were synonymous with championships. Usually only first place finishers got a trophy. I was excited to get my first trophy as an eight-year-old. However, I was curious and felt slightly guilty that the team members and I each received trophies despite finishing in second place. Don't misunderstand me here. I'm not against every kid getting a trophy just for being on a team and making it through the season. That's fine. But the reality is at some point, only those at the top will get the trophies. To the victor go the spoils, they say. Three years ago I watched as the winner of the tournament my baseball team was playing in hoisted the championship trophy up in the air near home plate. We battled for five days and lasted fifteen innings in the championship game before they finally beat us. But when all was said and done, they got a huge trophy and we didn't get so much as a certificate. All we could do was watch. Second place was first loser in that instance. But I'm not so sure in the long run trophies mean all that much anyway. I think the memories of the achievement far outlast the hardware received. I still cherish the memories of the 2008 tournament run and I don't need a trophy to remind me how special that team and those moments were. Take, for example, the number of trophies you see with dust all over them at thrift stores. Somebody gave their heart and soul for that trophy and yet, there it sits on the shelf with a $2 price tag on it. Eventually someone will buy it and change the nameplate so they can cherish their own particular accomplishment and thus the trophy can be recycled over and over again. I have a box full of trophies from my younger days but to be honest, I'm not exactly sure where they are now. My parents begged me a long time ago to remove the box from their cluttered attic. I took a look in the box a few years back. Some of the trophies brought a smile to my face as I remembered the pride with which I had accepted them- including the second place one and to be honest, a few third placers. I realized then that the treasure was not in the trophy but in the experience. Earthly objects don't mean that much in the ultimate scheme of things. And you can't buy memories in the thrift shop. But if you're desperate enough to try, for $2 you can change the nameplate.