I’ve been told, mostly by women, that sports play far too important a role in my life.

Soccer season in Europe just started, meaning nine months of waking very early on Saturday and Sunday to watch games from England, Germany, France, Italy and Spain. I have the MLS package, the NFL package (go Cowboys) and a lot of college football (go Penn State). Then there’s Formula One, MotoGP…

Yeah, I guess it’s a bit excessive.

There are, of course, lessons one can learn from sports.

Yeah, I know—not from lazing on the couch covered in Cheez-Its crumbs. But as I recall, coaches issue some rather useful, even life affirming career guidance from the sidelines…usually in a booming voice and in phrases laced with terse, yet memorable words.

I’m convinced the next Hobbes, Locke, Kierkegaard or Jefferson prowls the nation’s football fields.

Granted, no coach known to humankind ever worked “[without government] there is no place for industry; because the fruit thereof is uncertain: and consequently no culture...no knowledge of the face of the earth; no account of time; no arts; no letters; no society” into a halftime speech. Just bear with me on this, though.

During the recent debt ceiling crisis, each side took pains to blame the other for pushing to the brink of financial doomsday. When, after Congress “resolved” the issue, Standard & Poor’s hacked an A from the country’s vaunted credit rating, Republicans and Democrats again rushed to point the finger. Talking heads in the pay—or at least the pocket—of the parties rushed to “prove” fault belonged to the other side alone.

A certain amount of this is understandable. These are formal political organizations, joined for the purpose of winning seats.

Coaches understand, however, that victory on a single down hardly matters if you throw too much away in the process. The season (or, in political terms, the nation) is the point.

George Washington understood this during the American Revolution: it’s possible for a side—the British, in this case—to win most every battle and lose the war. The North Vietnamese reminded us of this point a couple centuries later.

More to the point, good coaches preach the importance of taking responsibility.

At least that’s the lesson one of my former coaches tried to impart when he gently reminded us that shutting our (colorful descriptive term) mouths would be greatly desirable, then coolly and impartially informed us that he really didn’t (colorful modifier) care if we thought we had made the proper reads, the (colorful way to accentuate the following word) ball was still 30 yards downfield. He finally urged us to admit we made a (colorful enhancer) mistake and move on.

You see?  Admit fault and get back to work toward the common goal.

That’s great advice on the football field, in the office and in the political arena. Yet we’ve developed a culture more comfortable with finger pointing if it helps us achieve a little momentary leverage.

You’ll have to excuse me. I’m writing this while watching the FC Dallas game and the (very colorful assessment of another person’s need for corrective lenses) referee just…well, if they lose this it’s his fault.

Now what was I saying?