You’re Not Going to Win This Season
But don’t let that stop you from obsessing over perfecting your craft
What if I could predict your season or the outcome of your next job?
Imagine I had the proven ability/gift of prophecy and could tell you one thing about how your season, job, or class will end.
If you’re like me, you might not want to know. I like surprises.
But if you’re not like me and you’d want to know, what if I told you your season doesn’t end the way you’d hoped?
What if I told you your new job will end in disappointment, frustration, and hurt feelings? Would that change how you approach each workday, practice, or game?
What if you knew you’d never get recognized as a teacher of the year? What if you never receive any accolades or recognition for all your efforts?
I can’t tell the future, but I’m confident the majority of you reading this will not have the season, acceptance, or recognition you desire. You will be crushed and disappointed at the season’s end. Everyone can’t be champions.
But for coaches, that’s not why we do this, right? We set the bar and our sights high, knowing the probability of reaching that pinnacle is low. So why do we spend hundreds of hours per season in scorching heat and freezing temperatures to keep pushing athletes toward unrealistic goals? And if you’re an athlete reading this, why spend time away from homework or working a job making money to work out and compete in grueling and physically challenging competitions?
Hopefully, we do these crazy things because we’ve developed a love or obsession with the sport (or job). Outside of that, sometimes we do these crazy things for superficial reasons like needing income or the opportunity to earn a scholarship—and that’s okay too. We have to be honest with ourselves. Some people say they love with they do and don’t mean it. Love of the game is cliche, but I’d argue you can’t have a love of the game without developing an obsession for dominating it.
In Kobe Bryant’s book, Mamba Mentality, each page dissects an athlete’s obsession with the game of basketball. The entire volume is a love letter to the game. If Kobe weren’t a superstar, society would probably diagnose him as a person with an obsessive disorder. Instead, because of his success, we call him committed and dedicated to his craft.
As coaches, athletes, students, workers (and writers), we must be willing to risk being labeled obsessive if we want to get all we can out of our craft. If we genuinely desire to enjoy what we do—like standing on 125°F turf for hours on end instructing teenage boys how to play football—we must reassess our dedication to the task. Otherwise, why waste time on something you’re not entirely in love with if the chances of reaching the pinnacle are meager?
So you’re probably not going to win this season. Or at least not in the way you want. But don’t let that stop you from approaching every day and opportunity with resolve and an obsession for greatness.