Danny ChaiThe Sports Guy has an email exchange with Malcolm Gladwell, author of The Tipping Point and Blink, and it’s absolutely fascinating. It’s actually caused me to reconsider my life. For example, I’ve come to the startling but incontrovertible conclusion that in life, I am the equivalent of Eddy Curry, or Erick Dampier in a non-contract year. Here’s the passage that made me realize this:
This is actually a question I’m obsessed with: Why don’t people work hard when it’s in their best interest to do so? Why does Eddy Curry come to camp every year overweight?
The (short) answer is that it’s really risky to work hard, because then if you fail you can no longer say that you failed because you didn’t work hard. It’s a form of self-protection. I swear that’s why Mickelson has that almost absurdly calm demeanor. If he loses, he can always say: Well, I could have practiced more, and maybe next year I will and I’ll win then. When Tiger loses, what does he tell himself? He worked as hard as he possibly could. He prepared like no one else in the game and he still lost. That has to be devastating, and dealing with that kind of conclusion takes a very special and rare kind of resilience. Most of the psychological research on this is focused on why some kids don’t study for tests — which is a much more serious version of the same problem. If you get drunk the night before an exam instead of studying and you fail, then the problem is that you got drunk. If you do study and you fail, the problem is that you’re stupid — and stupid, for a student, is a death sentence. The point is that it is far more psychologically dangerous and difficult to prepare for a task than not to prepare. People think that Tiger is tougher than Mickelson because he works harder. Wrong: Tiger is tougher than Mickelson and because of that he works harder.
Wow. There’s just so much truth there, and it applies to me. I’ve never really tried hard in anything I’m good at, be it school, music, work. Wait, that sounds arrogant. I mean, I’ve tried. But I’ve never tried so hard as to lay myself on the line, you know? There’s a difference. And in the end, it’s a defense mechanism, a fear of failure. I’d rather be mediocre with potential than try and fail.
And that sucks, and I’m tired of it. What I need, I think, is a Phil Jackson in my life. But I have no idea how to get that. But that’s what I need, because the sad truth is I’m not self-motivated and I’m not entirely certain I can even motivate myself to become that way. It’s a meta problem. Someone unmotivated can’t motivate themselves to be motivated. Anyway yeah, that just cut me to the core. I am Eddy Curry.
Here’s another passage that rings totally true to me:
I don’t believe that actually watching baseball under any circumstances enhances your appreciation of the game. As a kid, I read Bill James and Thomas Boswell and Roger Angell and followed the game through newspaper box scores, and I was a far more dedicated fan back then than I am today. Baseball is a great idea, and a great story. But is watching it a great experience? Frankly I prefer the way the game was played in my imagination.
That is the absofrickin truth. Baseball is a great idea. Great concept. But a completely boring experience. Amen.