Nobody likes whiners!!! Heads held high. Take a page - with liberties - from Kipling.
IF you can keep your pride when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all fans doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait for victory and not be tired by waiting,
Or being criticized, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't be conceited, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Victory and Disaster
And treat those two game outcomes just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your heart to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with refs and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither loss nor stupid calls can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Sport and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be Cyclones, every one!