Fighting and Happiness

I remember when I was 7 years old, my first homework in the first class was ticked by my teacher while I expected he gave me a good score. When I returned home, I wrote a 20 (maximum score) on my homework assignment and showed it to my mother. Although my handwriting was very awkward to be believable, not only my mother didn't say any thing but also praised me.
Wrestling is a popular and traditional sport in my country. I used to work out in this field when I was 15 years old. I continued it for more than 3 years and I could acquire high ranking in my country. In 1995, I was in my best physical situation and all of my fellow wrestlers thought that I would be the best wrestler in my weight (55kgs) in the annually champion competition. After two wins, I lost an easy match to another athlete and eliminated from the champion. I was crying for more than one hour after my lost. The only picture that I could imagine in that moment was my family that expected me to come back home with a gold medal. I didn't cry for my hard and long practicing that was led to nothing, however, I was crying for losing the happiness that I could present to my family.
Yesterday, when David Luise, the Brazil captain, was crying while interviewing after the horrible lost against Germany, I remembered my tearful crying. Although these two competitions are not comparable, there was a common reason for crying that the captain mentioned. "We wanted to make our people glad and happy with our winning but we couldn't." Luise said.