Young football (we call it soccer where I live) players sometimes have parents (often dads), who, one can tell from their animated cheering and shouting out of complex directions, would have done well to have been in charge of, let's say, Obamacare or Syrian weapons negotiations. In fact, you would think youth soccer matches are world-changing events. It is evident that these parents are deeply involved in their kids' activities and have high expectations for them. I guess I can only hope that the kids will develop competitive dispositions themselves, and this will help them succeed in various spheres of life.

My eight-year-old son's soccer team in Washington DC was put together several years after most other teams in his league and boasts relatively indifferent parents. Some kids arrive with au pairs. Others are blessed with mothers who understand next to nothing about soccer, a category I inarguably fall into. The few parents who have the ability to cheer or instruct are often engaged in work-related travel. Some parents are glued to their smartphones, looking up briefly when the opposing team scores a goal. Last year, our coaches (two moms) taught themselves about soccer and coaching by watching videos on YouTube.

It is no surprise then that our team has won only one game in the last three seasons. Yet, despite the endless losses, soccer is my son's favorite activity. I don't have to remind him to wear his uniform, shin guards and cleats on Saturday mornings during soccer season. He plays soccer at every opportunity, at recess and at the aftercare, and even if he doesn't play as well as the best players in his school, this hasn't discouraged him in the least. And it must be said, his skills have improved and he is a far better player today than he was when he started.

This has been repeated often, but I grasped it first-hand: soccer is about camaraderie as much as it is about learning to control the ball and make successful passes. After each game, the kids eat snacks with great gusto, ride on each other's backs, and sing silly songs. Watching them, I see that winning is a distant secondary goal for them. What they enjoy is each other's presence and the fact that they are in this together. None of them admire buttercups (aka flowers or weeds) while a game is in progress, but their one experience of victory didn't make them mad with happiness, and they deal with defeat with an enviable level-headedness.

I found myself wondering though whether there is a downside to being so blasé about losing? In fact, I went through a phase of giving my son suggestions such as:

Why aren't you more aggressive once you have the ball? Why don't you play with more determination?

He halted my sudden torrent of guidance. "Mom, I play midfield or defense, not forward. And in any case, soccer is not about being aggressive. It's about cooperation." I paused and reflected. How strange is it that I, who never played any sport for a single day of my life, wanted my son to be a little Pelé?

Isn't it remarkable that kids don't necessarily expect their endeavors to have spectacular results? They love the activity for itself. Becoming an adult means a gradual death of that spirit, that wisdom – with or without the prodding of parents. In order to thrive, or even survive, people develop a heightened spirit of competition. Getting ahead means snatching away prizes from under others' noses. We work hard to get into the college of our choice, to get published in this or that prestigious journal, to project a confidence we don't feel in order to get the job that a hundred others want, to keep up with the Joneses, to get raises and promotions and better job offers.

How often have I wallowed in disappointment – professionally and personally – when things haven't gone the way I wanted? And yet, how healthy and wise is this when so many of life's outcomes are based on a wide variety of variables and not on one's talent, grit and desire alone (not to mention the feeling of frustration and resentment that this way of living fuels)?

I've realized there is much to learn from soccer-loving eight-year-olds: do your best, be passionate, enjoy yourself, and then, regardless of the results, move on.