Walt Disney is a child. His favorite ride, the carousel. He and his father visit an amusement park, and there, a carousel. He boards. Excited. Anxious. But Disney had selected a horse that didn't jump. It was broken. He was crestfallen. As he looked around, young Walt saw faded paint. The toll of time. The curse of inattention. The ride spun, yes, but the magic was gone. Disney vowed that day that when he made it, his rides would be immaculate. Her service, unmatched. All horses jumping, No chipped paint.

Our football coach picked this up a few years ago. Saying it in practice. Saying it over and over and over again. In a circle. Like a carousel. Our boys may not be winning, but they are learning a real lesson. No chipped paint, and all horses jumping.