Yesterday, the Dutch national football (soccer) team suffered an agonizing loss -- falling to the Spanish in overtime, 1-0.  It was a hard-fought game.  Even though many faulted the way that the Dutch team approached the game (calling it ugly, thuggish, and brutal), I am proud of the way that my adopted country played in this year's World Cup tournament.  They showed mental toughness, and they didn't let the Spanish intimidate them.  They kept to their game-plan, and it almost paid off for them.  If they could have held out for just four more minutes, they would have had the opportunity to win the game on penalty kicks (against an opponent who was, by most accounts, clearly better than they were).  If they could have held out for just four more minutes, I genuinely believe the game could have been theirs:  the first championship in Dutch football (soccer) history.

But it wasn't meant to be.  It turned out to be just another heart-break for an eternally-frustrated fan base.

Last Thursday, the city of Cleveland, Ohio suffered an agonizing loss -- when basketball superstar LeBron James decided to leave the Cleveland Cavaliers and sign a new contract with the Miami Heat instead.  The Cavs gave it their best shot, managing a clever campaign to keep their native son (James grew up in nearby Akron) playing in Cleveland, which was admittedly an uphill battle for a city which has been having a rough half-century or so.  And unfortunately, the story didn't have a happy ending for people from Ohio.  Similar to the way it happens in business, politics, and industry, Ohio sports are plagued by the fact that the best and the brightest often end up moving on to greener pastures in the South, or on the coasts, or in the bigger cities, where they achieve their glory.  Cleveland, in particular, seems to have a penchant for developing really good teams and really good players, but then losing at the last minute when the ultimate prize appears to be within their grasp.  There had been some hope that the LeBron James situation might be different -- that maybe he could be the "messiah" of Ohio sports.

But it wasn't meant to be.  It turned out to be just another heart-break for an eternally-frustrated fan base.

There's something astonishingly similar about these two agonizing losses, these heart-breaks, even though they're for very different cultures, different sports, and different types of loss.  On the emotional level, though, they're very similar.  Close but not close enough.  Good but not good enough.  Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.  I know the pain of Dutch loss, Ohio loss.  But the pain doesn't change my fondness for Oranje voetbal or Ohio basketball.  If anything, the pain intensifies my feelings of identification and affinity.  We may be mildly pathetic, but we've still got pride.  We may lose when it comes to the "big game," but we're loveable losers.