You want to travel in a good mood; you don't want to be mad

Trea Turner, speaking as both an athlete and a traveler, once declared: “You want to travel in a good mood; you don’t want to be mad about a loss.” Though these words were born in the arena of sport, they resound far beyond it. They carry the ancient wisdom that one must not carry bitterness on the road, nor let defeat poison the journey ahead. His words are not merely about baseball, but about the deeper art of living: how to move forward, unburdened, after life has struck you down.

The first truth lies in the word travel. For Turner and his companions, travel is constant—city to city, stadium to stadium. Yet his words hold a broader meaning: all of life is a journey, and we are all travelers moving through seasons of joy and hardship. To travel in a good mood is to protect the spirit from despair, to shield it from the corrosive weight of regret. For if one carries anger into the next chapter, one finds not renewal, but the same chains repeated again.

He also names the danger of loss. Loss is inevitable—it touches warriors, poets, kings, and commoners alike. In sport, it comes as a scoreboard; in life, it comes as failure, disappointment, or grief. But Turner reminds us that the danger is not in losing, but in allowing the loss to linger in the heart, to sour the days that follow. To lose once is fate; to lose every day after by carrying anger is choice.

History echoes this lesson. Consider the great general Hannibal, who after his defeat at Zama, could have surrendered to despair. Yet he did not. He turned to politics, to reform, to the rebuilding of his people. Or think of Abraham Lincoln, who lost elections and endured repeated failures, yet did not carry bitterness into the next battle. Had he let anger or despair become his traveling companions, he would never have risen to lead a nation through its darkest hour. Both men knew the wisdom Turner speaks: do not carry yesterday’s defeat into tomorrow’s journey.

There is also humility in Turner’s words. He does not pretend that losing does not hurt. He admits the temptation to be mad about a loss. But he counsels discipline: one must set it down, as a traveler lays aside a heavy burden, if the road ahead is to be walked with strength. This discipline is not denial; it is mastery. It is the power to feel the sting of failure and yet refuse to let it govern the steps that follow.

The emotional depth of his wisdom is this: joy must be chosen. The world will hand you setbacks, betrayals, defeats. But the choice of whether to travel light or heavy, in bitterness or in peace, rests within. To choose to travel in a good mood is to choose freedom, to refuse to let loss dictate the spirit of the journey. This choice transforms even the hardest path into one that can still bring growth and light.

The lesson, then, is clear: when you are struck by loss, mourn it, but do not chain yourself to it. Step forward with dignity, refusing to carry its poison into new places. For every road is long, and every traveler will stumble—but those who rise with joy find new victories ahead, while those who walk in anger remain trapped in the past.

Practical counsel follows: after defeat, give yourself time to reflect, but set a limit on bitterness. Before the next journey, before the next task, cleanse your spirit as a warrior cleans his blade after battle. Enter the new road with gratitude and readiness. For as Trea Turner teaches, the way you travel is as important as the destination. A good mood is not naivety—it is strength, the shield that allows you to endure and to triumph again.