The Dominican Republic is united like no other event could unite
them. It’s the international baseball tournament and they are hoping to
win again after the undefeated 8-0 run to the championship in 2013. On
my weekend trip to the capital, every TV set there and in the city of
San Juan de la Maguana was tuned into the tournament. Baseball is the
national sport (well, apart from dominoes) and everyone is following
along looking forward to the moment of victory.
Backing up a bit,
the baseball team here is the shining gem in the community. Last year
Bridges (the company I am working for here) got a member of the
community to donate a piece of flatish land to the youth center they
were building. After making it much closer to flat, they installed a
backstop as well as cement stands on both sides. Though far short of
even the most rundown fields in suburban US, it is unequivocally the
nicest field in the area. Between the field and the 40 donated gloves,
catcher’s equipment, and real bases, the youth of Derrumbadero have the
most luxurious baseball set up for miles. And they play like a team that
has won divine favor.
I’ve been to four or five games so far,
and Derrumbadero has won every single one. The first game I witnessed I
only saw the last three innings (they play 7 innings here), where we
went from losing 4-3 to winning 7-4. The second, we came from behind 3-0
in the first to blow out the other team 17-10 or so. The third, I
played first base for the first four innings, as it was the younger kids
and they wanted to show off their Americano (my first game of baseball
ever!!!) We came from behind 5-0 to win it 7-6 with two runs in the
final inning. Next came a sunny Sunday game that gave me terrible
sunburn on my legs but was worth every second of pain. We got down 7-0
in the first two innings and then suddenly turned on the power. By the
fourth, we were up 8-7, and after getting up 15-7, coasted to a 16-12 or
so win.
There are around 50 or 60 kids in the town who play on
the two teams. There is little here in the way of adult supervision,
role modeling, or attempts to build life-long learners out of the
children. However the two managers of the teams are somewhat remarkable
in how they run things. At once fun and firm, these young men are only a
few years older than most of the players, and the same age as some of
them. At 22 or 23, they are both part time students at a university a
hour or so away. They keep track of the lineup, hold onto the extra
baseballs so they don’t all disappear, and most importantly enforce team
spirit and make sure the boys are all building each other up instead of
fighting. One of my favorite moments watching one of the managers,
Xavier, was when he got dressed down by the only father who ever watches
(presumably because he had a broken arm, as I haven't seen him since
his cast came off two weeks ago) because he had let two of the boys tell
another boy that he hadn’t run hard enough for first base. The father
insisted that teams don’t treat each other that way and that it was
Xavier’s job to make that happen. Xavier took this lashing with his head
held high and then replied that the father was right, he’d made a
mistake, and it wouldn’t happen again. And true to his word, the next
time something like that happened at a game that weekend, Xavier called a
pause in the game, got the whole team around him, and told them they
were one group and one family, and if someone needed to be told
something like that, he would be the one saying it.
After the
Dominicans came from behind 5-0 to defeat the USA, I admit I was a
little upset, since I like winning. But I was also excited, for another
win on the world stage at baseball would be great for the DR! I hope
Platano Power takes them all the way to another undefeated championship!
Showing posts with label sports. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sports. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
The Weight of Cultural Norms
Traditions and rituals are really cool. As any athlete (or serious fan) will tell you, it is of the utmost importance that pregame rituals are followed exactly. As any serious camper will tell you, it is of the utmost importance that we sing a song before each assembly, that we cross our left hands over our rights during Friendship Circle, and that each cabin have an introductory gimmick for each campfire.
Rituals are part of what connects us with our pasts, and help us convince ourselves that how we lead our lives is valuable and will mean something to those who come after us. It doesn't actually matter if a pro ties their shoes the 'right' way before the game any more than it matters if a NHL player's beard has been grown out all playoffs long. If we sang songs at the end of assemblies at camp, it would be fine. We changed the location of the Assembly Area, which necessitated changing all of the meeting trees, and none of the activities suffered, nor did the Wee Little Tree suddenly wilt and die.
Rituals and traditions should have a purpose, or should be used for a purpose. And you should make sure to look over your big and little traditions in your workplace and see if they have value, or where they can be tweaked to add value. If we let traditions without value stay, we risk becoming culturally moss-covered as we join Kodak in the museum.
One of the things that gives traditions at camp so much weight is that the property and culture feel stuck in time. It is impossible to be at camp and not feel as though the barefoot fun is exactly the same today as it was in 1928 when camp was founded. Because of this, traditions and rituals cut both ways. We can tell people that "This is how we do things/treat people" and have them believe it is important because that's how it's always been. But we are also limited in what we can try out and do if it doesn't fit existing cultural expectations.
I was reminded of this cultural limitation today when I saw a post on Facebook from an alumni from the 50s and 60s showing a Brown versus Green canoe challenge sheet. In my 20 years at camp, we have strongly opposed the idea of having a "Color War" under the premise that fixed-pie competition has little place at camp. While we've added a few things like a new version of Crew Olympics with individual champions, and the new running game Into The Deep with a single champion of camp, we still chaff against any hint of labeling anyone a winner at the cost of labeling someone else a loser.
In the end, cultural norms are delicate and finely crafted, which few people realize. It may seem like the Mean Girls' cafeteria has always been stratified that way, but remember how much work Regina had to do to keep control. All it took to unravel her was a few calteen bars and a rule about sweatpants. Take a long look at the big picture values you want for your culture, and then think of ways that you already do things that can embody those values, and ways you can tweak your norms to further those values. Ask others for their input in this process, toss up ideas, give away credit. Take culture seriously and it will reward you and your business.
Rituals are part of what connects us with our pasts, and help us convince ourselves that how we lead our lives is valuable and will mean something to those who come after us. It doesn't actually matter if a pro ties their shoes the 'right' way before the game any more than it matters if a NHL player's beard has been grown out all playoffs long. If we sang songs at the end of assemblies at camp, it would be fine. We changed the location of the Assembly Area, which necessitated changing all of the meeting trees, and none of the activities suffered, nor did the Wee Little Tree suddenly wilt and die.
Rituals and traditions should have a purpose, or should be used for a purpose. And you should make sure to look over your big and little traditions in your workplace and see if they have value, or where they can be tweaked to add value. If we let traditions without value stay, we risk becoming culturally moss-covered as we join Kodak in the museum.
One of the things that gives traditions at camp so much weight is that the property and culture feel stuck in time. It is impossible to be at camp and not feel as though the barefoot fun is exactly the same today as it was in 1928 when camp was founded. Because of this, traditions and rituals cut both ways. We can tell people that "This is how we do things/treat people" and have them believe it is important because that's how it's always been. But we are also limited in what we can try out and do if it doesn't fit existing cultural expectations.
I was reminded of this cultural limitation today when I saw a post on Facebook from an alumni from the 50s and 60s showing a Brown versus Green canoe challenge sheet. In my 20 years at camp, we have strongly opposed the idea of having a "Color War" under the premise that fixed-pie competition has little place at camp. While we've added a few things like a new version of Crew Olympics with individual champions, and the new running game Into The Deep with a single champion of camp, we still chaff against any hint of labeling anyone a winner at the cost of labeling someone else a loser.
In the end, cultural norms are delicate and finely crafted, which few people realize. It may seem like the Mean Girls' cafeteria has always been stratified that way, but remember how much work Regina had to do to keep control. All it took to unravel her was a few calteen bars and a rule about sweatpants. Take a long look at the big picture values you want for your culture, and then think of ways that you already do things that can embody those values, and ways you can tweak your norms to further those values. Ask others for their input in this process, toss up ideas, give away credit. Take culture seriously and it will reward you and your business.
Friday, January 13, 2017
Run to the Middle. Every. Time.
Winning in wrestling is about discipline. I learned that lesson over and over again through my time as a high school wrestler and as a coach. For my junior and senior years, our coaching staff was graced by the panther-like presence of a man we called Coach Shoops. We usually had three coaches, our head coach was the middle weight, and then the assistant coaches would be split one for the little guys and one for the big boys. Shoops was big and quick. He weighed around 200lbs and was constantly carrying around a med school textbook as he studied for whatever exam was next.
Shoops had a variety of little techniques he added to my repertoire. Because he was technically sound where I was quirky, and much quicker than I, I don't remember picking up too many larger moves from him. What I did learn was a style of thinking and gamesmanship that helped me win matches.
Like I said, winning in wrestling is about discipline. The head coach, Quilty, made sure we worked hard enough to have physical discipline, and were sufficiently drilled in techniques to have technical discipline. Shoops made sure we were ready to get inside our opponents' heads and grind them into the mat. He made sure we had competitive discipline.
Some of his ideas were a little quixotic, but worked with practice. It took me a while, but eventually I managed to get good at pointing towards an opponent's shoe to make them think it had come untied, so I could strike while their attention was away from defense. One of my favorites of his was The Handshake Maneuver. If you act scared while warming up and then give a dead fish handshake, your opponent will underestimate your confidence and technique. If you are reading a book at the side of the mat and give him the double-handed nerdshake, chances are he will underestimate your strength. If you make exceptional eye contact while shaking hands, he might still be looking when the ref blows the whistle and you can strike first. The Handshake Maneuver was straight up fun for me.
The most effective and hardest of his recommendations was that whenever the whistle blew, no matter the score, run back to the middle of the mat. Some matches this wouldn't have much affect because it would only be at the end of the first and second periods. Other matches you'd be going out of bounds every ten seconds and having to restart over and over.
In those cases, you could win a match simply by running back to the middle. The first time you do it, your opponent might just think it's weird as he staggers/crawls back the 10ft to line up. The second, he might be a little irked by your unnecessary expenditure of energy. By the fifth or sixth, all he's thinking about is what it's going to take to make you break. If your whole team is doing this, you can track the morale of the other team as it sinks further and further. I know from personal experience that it's not easy to run back to the middle. It's even harder if you're losing. But if you can be disciplined enough to do it, you will win the mental battle and eventually, the physical one as well.
I mention all of this because I think if you cultivate discipline in any area, it will give you almost superhuman abilities. This doesn't take skill or money. All it takes is dedication and a desire to perform (and perhaps peers and mentors to help you get back up again when you mess up). If you want your employees to aspire to excellence, you have to teach them the basics and the techniques like Quilty did. You also have to give them the hard-knuckled fight and gamesmanship that Shoops taught.
Shoops had a variety of little techniques he added to my repertoire. Because he was technically sound where I was quirky, and much quicker than I, I don't remember picking up too many larger moves from him. What I did learn was a style of thinking and gamesmanship that helped me win matches.
Like I said, winning in wrestling is about discipline. The head coach, Quilty, made sure we worked hard enough to have physical discipline, and were sufficiently drilled in techniques to have technical discipline. Shoops made sure we were ready to get inside our opponents' heads and grind them into the mat. He made sure we had competitive discipline.
Some of his ideas were a little quixotic, but worked with practice. It took me a while, but eventually I managed to get good at pointing towards an opponent's shoe to make them think it had come untied, so I could strike while their attention was away from defense. One of my favorites of his was The Handshake Maneuver. If you act scared while warming up and then give a dead fish handshake, your opponent will underestimate your confidence and technique. If you are reading a book at the side of the mat and give him the double-handed nerdshake, chances are he will underestimate your strength. If you make exceptional eye contact while shaking hands, he might still be looking when the ref blows the whistle and you can strike first. The Handshake Maneuver was straight up fun for me.
The most effective and hardest of his recommendations was that whenever the whistle blew, no matter the score, run back to the middle of the mat. Some matches this wouldn't have much affect because it would only be at the end of the first and second periods. Other matches you'd be going out of bounds every ten seconds and having to restart over and over.
In those cases, you could win a match simply by running back to the middle. The first time you do it, your opponent might just think it's weird as he staggers/crawls back the 10ft to line up. The second, he might be a little irked by your unnecessary expenditure of energy. By the fifth or sixth, all he's thinking about is what it's going to take to make you break. If your whole team is doing this, you can track the morale of the other team as it sinks further and further. I know from personal experience that it's not easy to run back to the middle. It's even harder if you're losing. But if you can be disciplined enough to do it, you will win the mental battle and eventually, the physical one as well.
I mention all of this because I think if you cultivate discipline in any area, it will give you almost superhuman abilities. This doesn't take skill or money. All it takes is dedication and a desire to perform (and perhaps peers and mentors to help you get back up again when you mess up). If you want your employees to aspire to excellence, you have to teach them the basics and the techniques like Quilty did. You also have to give them the hard-knuckled fight and gamesmanship that Shoops taught.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Brotherhood and Pain - A Call for Fellowship
I learned a lot through pain as a high school wrestler. That first week of practice each year was a revelation. We would start with warmups that were more intense than an entire soccer practice, drill basic techniques and more advanced counters for 45 minutes or so (never letting the heart rate fall), and then wrestle live until it was time for conditioning. That first week, it would be somewhere during the drilling that I would hit "The Wall" - my physical limit where my body said "I can't do this anymore!" and I would have to push through with mental toughness, visualization of success, and camaraderie from my mat brothers.
Each year I would turn in homework that week with a different handwriting than the rest of the year. My entire body would be so spent from exertion and musce fatigue that no matter how I sat, some portion would be holding me up and twitching from the effort.
Gradually my wall would get pushed farther and farther back. We would do less and less of the drilling and technique and more of the live wrestling. By a month into the season, we would be managing to wrestle live for more than an hour a practice. Together we would push our walls back and fight through sore muscles, head colds, parents who wanted to overfeed us, and all the other problems life can throw at you.
Each time you got your hand raised in wrestling, it brought a compelling feeling of success. Wrestling is a mano-a-mano sport where you are each the same size. Winning means you stand victorious when all you had to rely on was yourself. It is also a team sport.
People not on the team often made fun of us for wrestling. For being homos, for wearing spandex costumes, for caring so much, and for not eating whatever we wanted like the rest of the boys in high school. I had it easy (our team was state champs all four years I was in HS, so critics were kept mostly to snide whispered comments), but I can imagine how it must have felt to have those jokes amplified.
The only other team I have heard described the way I think of my wrestling team is football. With 90 players on the roster and 11 on the field engaging in carefully choreographed plays, you must place your well-being in the hands of your brothers every time the ball is snapped.
We build bonds as men together when we sacrifice, overcome hardship, and ultimately learn that we are stronger through fellowship and mutual reliance than we ever would be alone. We need more wrestling, more football, more fellowship, and more initiations into a common brotherhood.
I do not know what form this future fellowship should take for me, I only know that I am open to it. I will readily embrace the chance to build strong bonds with men in my life and to mentor those younger than I in their journey towards manhood. I am reminded here of two interpretations of manhood that I have considered seminal that lack this sense of mutuality - and hope to find one that does: If by Rudyard Kipling, and It Takes a Man by Chris Young.
Each year I would turn in homework that week with a different handwriting than the rest of the year. My entire body would be so spent from exertion and musce fatigue that no matter how I sat, some portion would be holding me up and twitching from the effort.
Gradually my wall would get pushed farther and farther back. We would do less and less of the drilling and technique and more of the live wrestling. By a month into the season, we would be managing to wrestle live for more than an hour a practice. Together we would push our walls back and fight through sore muscles, head colds, parents who wanted to overfeed us, and all the other problems life can throw at you.
Each time you got your hand raised in wrestling, it brought a compelling feeling of success. Wrestling is a mano-a-mano sport where you are each the same size. Winning means you stand victorious when all you had to rely on was yourself. It is also a team sport.
People not on the team often made fun of us for wrestling. For being homos, for wearing spandex costumes, for caring so much, and for not eating whatever we wanted like the rest of the boys in high school. I had it easy (our team was state champs all four years I was in HS, so critics were kept mostly to snide whispered comments), but I can imagine how it must have felt to have those jokes amplified.
The only other team I have heard described the way I think of my wrestling team is football. With 90 players on the roster and 11 on the field engaging in carefully choreographed plays, you must place your well-being in the hands of your brothers every time the ball is snapped.
We build bonds as men together when we sacrifice, overcome hardship, and ultimately learn that we are stronger through fellowship and mutual reliance than we ever would be alone. We need more wrestling, more football, more fellowship, and more initiations into a common brotherhood.
I do not know what form this future fellowship should take for me, I only know that I am open to it. I will readily embrace the chance to build strong bonds with men in my life and to mentor those younger than I in their journey towards manhood. I am reminded here of two interpretations of manhood that I have considered seminal that lack this sense of mutuality - and hope to find one that does: If by Rudyard Kipling, and It Takes a Man by Chris Young.
Tuesday, November 29, 2016
The Nurturing Father Model
A little while ago I read an article that really hit home with me. You should check it out.
Lots of men harbor a secret about sports - when we see these men perform inhuman feats with their bodies, we know they are using physical discipline to cover for their lack of personhood. This is why no one in sports is surprised or truly tries to fix the brokenness that manifests in domestic violence, rape culture, and misogyny. Deep down so many of us are insecure. We believe that if we fail or show weakness ever, then people will see our inner gollum. We have never learned how to truly care for each other.
I was listening to a country radio show a few weeks ago and the DJs were giving one guy grief because as he was taping his wife and he having a discussion about how sweaty he was at night, it came up that he liked to cuddle. He vehemently denied to the other DJs that he ever wanted to cuddle or instigated it, eventually bowing to audio evidence to say yes once in a while for a few minutes he might be willing to cuddle.
So fragile is our position, so undeveloped is our limbic node that we fear the ground falling out from underneath us with any misstep.
I am left with simply a question and and hope: What can I and we as a community do to help realign our culture to create a nurturing father model? I hope that I can help contribute a sense of unconditional acceptance to those around me as I continue on my journey back to wholeness and rest.
Lots of men harbor a secret about sports - when we see these men perform inhuman feats with their bodies, we know they are using physical discipline to cover for their lack of personhood. This is why no one in sports is surprised or truly tries to fix the brokenness that manifests in domestic violence, rape culture, and misogyny. Deep down so many of us are insecure. We believe that if we fail or show weakness ever, then people will see our inner gollum. We have never learned how to truly care for each other.
I was listening to a country radio show a few weeks ago and the DJs were giving one guy grief because as he was taping his wife and he having a discussion about how sweaty he was at night, it came up that he liked to cuddle. He vehemently denied to the other DJs that he ever wanted to cuddle or instigated it, eventually bowing to audio evidence to say yes once in a while for a few minutes he might be willing to cuddle.
So fragile is our position, so undeveloped is our limbic node that we fear the ground falling out from underneath us with any misstep.
I am left with simply a question and and hope: What can I and we as a community do to help realign our culture to create a nurturing father model? I hope that I can help contribute a sense of unconditional acceptance to those around me as I continue on my journey back to wholeness and rest.
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
What is Cheating and Who am I to Judge?
As a high school wrestler I spent a lot of time saying the following sentence “Wrestling isn’t a sport, it’s a lifestyle.” While a little cheeky, this saying embodied a sentiment about the totality of dedication necessary for performing with your body at the highest level. As a wrestler I woke up standing in front of the bathroom sink holding a cup of water about to drink it on many occasions. I have vivid memories of standing in the shower manually closing my mouth because I couldn’t afford to take in the water weight of a few mouthfuls of greywater flowing down from my scalp.
I was not someone who had to cut much weight; I wrestled at or around my natural (though beefy) weight throughout all four years of high school. I know explicitly the dedication and self discipline needed to stay fit and lean by eating a proscribed diet, working out for hours a day, and never compromising, even for Thanksgiving dinner! That’s what it took for me to be a champion, and that’s what it took for me to master my body.
The mano-a-mano attitude that saturates wrestling is part of what makes it so compelling to me. There are no excuses on the mat other than that you are not as good as the human being having their arm raised while you slink off in defeat.
In combination with this respect for discipline, I have a healthy dose of libertarian notions about personal choice. I always used to say I could beat someone who is any two of the following: Stronger, Better, Tougher. As long as I could identify in which category I had an advantage, I would find their cracks and expose them through mental and physical warfare during the 6 minutes we had on the mat. I’m not trying to brag, but with a 94-18 record through 4 years, I won 84% of the time with this approach.
One of the other wrestlers on the team with me was two years older than I and much better. He had more talent, was stronger, and was really tough. I rarely if ever scored a point on him. Sometimes just because he could, he would hold both hands behind his back and brush me or others off throughout a whole period of “live” wrestling during practice with only his forehead and temples. When he graduated, he joined the military, and I believe became a Green Beret or Army Ranger, or some level of national service even beyond the exceptional dedication necessary to put your life on the line for our glorious country.
He also often reeked of vodka. He was not (to my knowledge) drinking during the day or before practice, but especially reeked when we had practices during school vacations or extra hours other than our usual 3pm-6pm Monday-Friday. The alcohol came out of his pores as his body cleaned up from his previous nights’ debauchery. I do not know how good (or how emotionally unstable) he would have been without drinking. I do know that I treated my body with the utmost respect and demanded every day that I improve my performance, and drinking or doing drugs would have inhibited that.
What does it mean to cheat? Where is the line between performance enhancing and performing at your best. Who is to say that he would have been better without his vices, and who is to say that his vices held him back? When we let rules be our guides rather than performances and facts, we lose the opportunity to express ourselves fully. I believe that systems are an integral part of how we relate to each other, and institutions should be strengthened through time. However, those same institutions should also be curated to allow us to ascertain which rules exist to restrict and which exist to enable.
I was not someone who had to cut much weight; I wrestled at or around my natural (though beefy) weight throughout all four years of high school. I know explicitly the dedication and self discipline needed to stay fit and lean by eating a proscribed diet, working out for hours a day, and never compromising, even for Thanksgiving dinner! That’s what it took for me to be a champion, and that’s what it took for me to master my body.
The mano-a-mano attitude that saturates wrestling is part of what makes it so compelling to me. There are no excuses on the mat other than that you are not as good as the human being having their arm raised while you slink off in defeat.
In combination with this respect for discipline, I have a healthy dose of libertarian notions about personal choice. I always used to say I could beat someone who is any two of the following: Stronger, Better, Tougher. As long as I could identify in which category I had an advantage, I would find their cracks and expose them through mental and physical warfare during the 6 minutes we had on the mat. I’m not trying to brag, but with a 94-18 record through 4 years, I won 84% of the time with this approach.
One of the other wrestlers on the team with me was two years older than I and much better. He had more talent, was stronger, and was really tough. I rarely if ever scored a point on him. Sometimes just because he could, he would hold both hands behind his back and brush me or others off throughout a whole period of “live” wrestling during practice with only his forehead and temples. When he graduated, he joined the military, and I believe became a Green Beret or Army Ranger, or some level of national service even beyond the exceptional dedication necessary to put your life on the line for our glorious country.
He also often reeked of vodka. He was not (to my knowledge) drinking during the day or before practice, but especially reeked when we had practices during school vacations or extra hours other than our usual 3pm-6pm Monday-Friday. The alcohol came out of his pores as his body cleaned up from his previous nights’ debauchery. I do not know how good (or how emotionally unstable) he would have been without drinking. I do know that I treated my body with the utmost respect and demanded every day that I improve my performance, and drinking or doing drugs would have inhibited that.
What does it mean to cheat? Where is the line between performance enhancing and performing at your best. Who is to say that he would have been better without his vices, and who is to say that his vices held him back? When we let rules be our guides rather than performances and facts, we lose the opportunity to express ourselves fully. I believe that systems are an integral part of how we relate to each other, and institutions should be strengthened through time. However, those same institutions should also be curated to allow us to ascertain which rules exist to restrict and which exist to enable.
Friday, November 4, 2016
Strength and Objectivity over Preconceptions and Personal Agenda
In 2015 the Educational Testing Service (ETS) gave a test to adults ranging from 16 to 65 years old testing their skills in a variety of professional metrics. Unsurprisingly, the youngest adults had fewer skills than the oldest ones. Turns out people learn things as they get older.
If that was all there was to the story, there wouldn't be much interest. But articles like this Fortune article from March 10, 2015, or this "parenting" article from AARP on April 27th, 2015 paint a picture of millennials that makes it seem like it's somehow millennials' faults that they are young and have been systemically let down by their elders and political institutions.
According to an Accenture study of the graduating class of 2016, 80% of grads believed they would be receiving on the job training, but only 54% said they actually received it. This represents a massive gap in expectations between employees and employers, and can only result in tension, disappointment, and corporate-wide under-performance.
The problem here is similar to the bad judgement Roger Godell has shown leading up to Tom Brady's recent 4 game suspension from the NFL. Tom Brady and the Patriots whacked the Broncos. Like tore apart their team, morale, and hopes and dreams to the tune of 45-7. Every team has skeletons, so Get off your high horse NFL! Brady got suspended (and the team fined hugely) for an offense that often goes un-fined. Tom Brady reasonably noted to the arbiter that there are different sets of rule books for players than general managers and won a repeal of his suspension. Then in order to make sure the integrity of the game was held to the highest regard, the NFL went after him further and won a reinstatement of the suspension.
There is no arguing that Tom Brady is a great quarterback, perhaps the best in the history of the game, and that he tends to try to win every week. There is also no arguing that the integrity of the game is at stake every week through the decisions and performances of players, refs, coaches, athletic trainers and many others involved in the sport.
The problem here lies in the fact that rather than asking how to get your business to the right result, employers, or Godell in the NFL example, are more concerned about having their predispositions and preconceived notions confirmed. Everyone 'knows' that the Patriots cheat, so the moment you think you've got them, go for the throat. Even if that runs counter to your bottom line (Tom Brady jerseys made the NFL more money than anyone not named Dez this year). Mr. Godell has done an insanely competent job making the NFL money, but he let his passion and personal agenda get in the way of smart business.
Imagine if instead of trying to scratch Brady's eyes out like they were fighting behind the bleachers, Godell had launched a massive ad campaign with Brady as the centerpiece. What if they had come together and announced to the world that people make mistakes, integrity matters, and that while winning is nice, sometimes you get carried away. Spot after spot after entertaining spot would have raked in dough for the NFL - instead they spent $14.7 million adjudicating against their premier player, all while still being shitheels when it comes to domestic violence (among a million other issues, some mentioned in the high horse link above).
If that was all there was to the story, there wouldn't be much interest. But articles like this Fortune article from March 10, 2015, or this "parenting" article from AARP on April 27th, 2015 paint a picture of millennials that makes it seem like it's somehow millennials' faults that they are young and have been systemically let down by their elders and political institutions.
According to an Accenture study of the graduating class of 2016, 80% of grads believed they would be receiving on the job training, but only 54% said they actually received it. This represents a massive gap in expectations between employees and employers, and can only result in tension, disappointment, and corporate-wide under-performance.
The problem here is similar to the bad judgement Roger Godell has shown leading up to Tom Brady's recent 4 game suspension from the NFL. Tom Brady and the Patriots whacked the Broncos. Like tore apart their team, morale, and hopes and dreams to the tune of 45-7. Every team has skeletons, so Get off your high horse NFL! Brady got suspended (and the team fined hugely) for an offense that often goes un-fined. Tom Brady reasonably noted to the arbiter that there are different sets of rule books for players than general managers and won a repeal of his suspension. Then in order to make sure the integrity of the game was held to the highest regard, the NFL went after him further and won a reinstatement of the suspension.
There is no arguing that Tom Brady is a great quarterback, perhaps the best in the history of the game, and that he tends to try to win every week. There is also no arguing that the integrity of the game is at stake every week through the decisions and performances of players, refs, coaches, athletic trainers and many others involved in the sport.
The problem here lies in the fact that rather than asking how to get your business to the right result, employers, or Godell in the NFL example, are more concerned about having their predispositions and preconceived notions confirmed. Everyone 'knows' that the Patriots cheat, so the moment you think you've got them, go for the throat. Even if that runs counter to your bottom line (Tom Brady jerseys made the NFL more money than anyone not named Dez this year). Mr. Godell has done an insanely competent job making the NFL money, but he let his passion and personal agenda get in the way of smart business.
Imagine if instead of trying to scratch Brady's eyes out like they were fighting behind the bleachers, Godell had launched a massive ad campaign with Brady as the centerpiece. What if they had come together and announced to the world that people make mistakes, integrity matters, and that while winning is nice, sometimes you get carried away. Spot after spot after entertaining spot would have raked in dough for the NFL - instead they spent $14.7 million adjudicating against their premier player, all while still being shitheels when it comes to domestic violence (among a million other issues, some mentioned in the high horse link above).
Saturday, May 7, 2016
We Want Heroes
Perhaps it comes from growing up on Disney movies that defined everything in black and white, right and wrong, belle and the beast. We see people as either good or bad, and single decisions (like posting the wrong thing on facebook, failing to use a turn signal, or supporting the wrong political candidate) can be used to justify defining and judging a person or entire group.
We read headlines of our heroes character getting the axe and never bother to read deeper because we know they are not the hero we thought they were. Tiger Woods gave us a decade of the best golf in history, but since the moment his mojo started to crack, neither he nor the viewing public at large has been able to have the slightest confidence in his game. This man was the best, and it turns out he was still just as fragile of a basket case as the rest of us.
No matter the source, whether circumstance, worldview, or the resurfacing of a historical pattern, we millennials yearn for heroes that can stand the test of time. This often manifests in the workplace as a clingy need to follow the leader or boss' directions, but since we're millennials, we can't manage to do this directly. Millennials, even the too-cool hipsters, are carefully watching every move, cataloguing (sometimes in horrifying online detail) every word, and judging. As a generation, we have seen so much information and imagery and lies that we are constantly looking out of the edge of our vision trying to catch our leaders and bosses the way they "really are" so that we can learn their secrets, whether good, or bad.
The real secret is that their bosses are no different than they; just like Tiger. As millennials, we will only begin to realize our potential when we start demanding it. As another generation is crowned and rises up in the post-internet, post-trump-candidacy america, we will begin to finally settle down and make a life for ourselves.
What we need most is leaders willing to take those chances and try things out while also staking a claim for mistakes, errors, lapses in judgement, and being human. Only through that kind of courage can we stop living in constant fear of the internet discovering we're all secretly not good enough.
We read headlines of our heroes character getting the axe and never bother to read deeper because we know they are not the hero we thought they were. Tiger Woods gave us a decade of the best golf in history, but since the moment his mojo started to crack, neither he nor the viewing public at large has been able to have the slightest confidence in his game. This man was the best, and it turns out he was still just as fragile of a basket case as the rest of us.
No matter the source, whether circumstance, worldview, or the resurfacing of a historical pattern, we millennials yearn for heroes that can stand the test of time. This often manifests in the workplace as a clingy need to follow the leader or boss' directions, but since we're millennials, we can't manage to do this directly. Millennials, even the too-cool hipsters, are carefully watching every move, cataloguing (sometimes in horrifying online detail) every word, and judging. As a generation, we have seen so much information and imagery and lies that we are constantly looking out of the edge of our vision trying to catch our leaders and bosses the way they "really are" so that we can learn their secrets, whether good, or bad.
The real secret is that their bosses are no different than they; just like Tiger. As millennials, we will only begin to realize our potential when we start demanding it. As another generation is crowned and rises up in the post-internet, post-trump-candidacy america, we will begin to finally settle down and make a life for ourselves.
What we need most is leaders willing to take those chances and try things out while also staking a claim for mistakes, errors, lapses in judgement, and being human. Only through that kind of courage can we stop living in constant fear of the internet discovering we're all secretly not good enough.
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