You mustn't smile when you lose. You have to be sad like other

Hear, O seeker of wisdom, the stern words of Eden Hazard: “You mustn’t smile when you lose. You have to be sad like other people. You have to win every game.” Though born of the world of football, these words echo with the weight of ancient teachings about pride, struggle, and the sacred pursuit of excellence. For in them lies not just the athlete’s creed, but the eternal lesson of how men and women face triumph and defeat.

The meaning of this saying begins with the demand for sincerity. To lose and still smile is, in Hazard’s eyes, to betray the seriousness of the contest, to diminish the honor of the struggle. For every battle—whether on the pitch, in the field, or in life itself—carries the blood, sweat, and spirit of many. To treat defeat lightly is to mock the sacrifices of comrades and the faith of those who stand beside you. Thus, Hazard insists: you must feel the weight of loss, you must be sad, for in grief lies respect for the struggle.

The origin of such wisdom is as old as the games of the ancients. In Olympia, when athletes lost, they did not celebrate; they wept, for they believed they had let down their city, their family, their name. Yet that sadness was not weakness—it was fuel. It sharpened their resolve to return stronger, to honor those who believed in them. Hazard’s words carry this same heritage: to treat defeat as a teacher, not as a jest, and to let sorrow mold you into a sharper blade.

History gives us vivid examples. Consider Achilles, who, though nearly invincible, raged with grief at the death of Patroclus. His sorrow was not mere despair but a fire that drove him to rise higher, to fight with renewed fury. Or think of Michael Jordan, cut from his high school basketball team. He did not smile at his rejection; he wept, he burned with determination, and from that flame arose the greatest of champions. So too, Hazard’s teaching calls us to transform the bitterness of defeat into the strength of future victory.

Yet his words also speak of empathy. “You have to be sad like other people.” Here lies the recognition that sport and life are not solitary pursuits. The player’s emotions ripple outward, felt by fans, by teammates, by nations. To smile at defeat while others mourn is to distance oneself from the collective struggle. True greatness is not only in personal achievement but in sharing the emotional weight of the community. To be sad with them is to honor their devotion; to rise again with them is to prove one’s leadership.

Still, there is danger in Hazard’s creed. To demand that one must win every game is to hold oneself to a standard both heroic and perilous. No mortal wins every battle, no athlete claims every crown. The lesson is not in the impossible demand of perfection, but in the spirit behind it: to approach each contest as though only victory is acceptable, to pour every fiber of one’s being into the fight, and to treat defeat not as acceptable, but as fuel for redemption.

Practically, the teaching for us is clear. In your own struggles—whether in work, art, or daily life—do not trivialize your setbacks. Feel their sting. Let the sorrow shape your resolve, as Hazard counsels. But also, share that grief with those around you, so they may know your heart beats with theirs. Then, rise again with unbreakable will, striving for your next victory as if it were the only one that mattered.

So, O listener, remember Hazard’s words: do not hide behind empty smiles when you lose. Honor the pain, honor the people, and let that pain sharpen your spirit. For while no soul wins every battle, those who grieve sincerely and rise relentlessly walk the path of champions, and leave behind a legacy that no defeat can erase.