Issue #10
Spain had just won the World Cup. But the headlines that followed weren’t only about Spain.
They were also about Argentina: a brawl after the final whistle, a red card issued after the match had already ended, discipline reaching the coaching staff, players turning their backs at the medal ceremony, and riot police called in back home as disappointment spilled into the streets.
But that wasn’t the only story this tournament told.
After Germany’s Felix Nmecha scored against Curaçao, he dropped to one knee, mimed removing his own crown, and pointed to the sky. Germany won 7-1. Afterwards, several Curaçao players gathered at midfield to pray. Felix and teammate Jonathan Tah crossed the field to join them. Felix said, on the pitch, they had been opponents. Off it, brothers. Days later, England and France closed the bronze match the same way, praying together after a brutal 6-4 fight.
This was more than sportsmanship. Sportsmanship means treating your opponent with respect. It doesn’t explain why someone would lay down their crown after success, pray after a loss, or embrace the team that just beat them.
Jesus said it plainly, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:21) I’ve usually heard that applied to money. Watching this tournament, I think it also explains why we respond so differently to winning and losing.
Whatever we treasure becomes the lens we see everything through. If success is the treasure, winning says, “Now I’m somebody.” Losing says, “Now I’m nobody.”
Scripture offers a different perspective. Everything we have, our abilities, opportunities, health, even our next breath, is a gift from God. We are stewards, not owners.
A promotion, a successful business, a launch that beats projections, these are good gifts. But they are never meant to tell us who we are. The moment we ask them to, they become idols. Felix’s celebration wasn’t humility for the cameras. It revealed an identity settled long before the goal was scored. Because he knew whose he was, he knew where the crown belonged.
When identity comes from the scoreboard, losing isn’t just disappointing. It becomes a verdict. That’s as true in the office as it is on the pitch. A failed launch, a restructuring, a disappointing quarter, they hurt, but they were never qualified to answer the question of who you are.
Curaçao still lost. France still missed the podium. Yet both walked away demonstrating that their sense of self did not rise and fall with the scoreboard.
That’s why the contrast with Argentina wasn’t mainly about behavior. It was about what each team treasured. Some showed an identity built on something bigger than football. Others showed what happens when they let football become something it was never meant to be: an identity.
So next time, after a win or a loss, pause and ask yourself, “What do I think this says about me?” If the answer touches your worth rather than your results, you’ve found where your treasure really is.
Achievement is a good scoreboard. It is a poor mirror.
p.s. If questions like these resonate with you, they’re the kinds of conversations we explore every month in Kingdom Factor Cohort (KFC), where Christian CEOs, founders, and executives help one another lead from identity in Christ rather than achievement. Click here to learn more.