A group of Middle school children are invited to the gymnasium to play a game that involves a balloon, a long string and one leg. The goal is to run, race, chase and or be chased until only one balloon remains. Twenty five little people instantly become products of survival. Words are tossed, fists are thrown, a few laughs are heard and in the end someone new will be crowned king or queen of the balloon pop.
Take the same game…invite 25 new children into the gymnasium and explain to them the same rules and expectations. The end result won’t be a vibrantly out of control mind that scientifically pulled away from a large number of stomping feet and tiny egos requiring to be named best…the second game of survival takes an interesting twist of fate—rather than bee bopping and hopping toward that wall and this exit…group number two takes a different look at the process turning the game into a less personal victory and more of a group effort to protect fun. By games end, everybody is standing in the center of the gym cheering.
Keeping score…who wins and who loses?
During last nights American Idol Andrew and Katie’s balloons were popped. Which group of balloon poppers did they belong? Does being one of the top ten left standing with a summer tour planned make them more interested in the groups overall appearance or has a completely natural inner instinct located disappointment within the game called best versus least favorite?
Over on ABC its Kate Gosselin versus Pamela Anderson versus Pussycat Doll Nicole Scherzinger…cat fight or the person blowing up the balloons has the best seat in the house? Basically meaning, is there room for more than one winner?
Learning the fine are of keeping score involves making a personal decision of accepting the idea that today might be the single twenty four period where your name might come in third or fifteenth place.
Try telling that to a group of Tae Kwon Do multi colored belts who’ve been trained to kill or be killed. Once the Olympic sparring ref drops his or her arms…you better be wearing a game face. I can still hear my Karate Sensei shouting at the top of his lungs, “Mr. Radio man! You aren’t here to have a great time! If I see you making friends in my class one more time you’ll be doing pushups until each arms falls off.”
Monday night TKD black belt classes are supposed to be silent. Can you imagine me sitting in such a place? The voices in this noggin are so loud people three city blocks away can’t figure out where the volume is on their remote control.
My biggest weakness is more mental than physical—nobody loses. If popping my balloon is going to make you feel like a winner so be it. I don’t collect trophies…I choose instead to surround myself with winners. I can’t stand the idea of keeping score.
Maybe it’s a bowling thing…it once served as my passion driven heartbeat. Growing up in the American Junior Bowling Congress wasn’t a cool place to hang out in the 70’s. Kids my age were throwing footballs and stuffing basketballs into nets. For some untold reason I couldn’t get enough of rolling a round rock toward six innocent pens. I didn’t sleep at night because my tortured dreams were fed by a decision to make money as a teen in the adult leagues—holding onto it meant getting kicked out of the AJBC at 15.
How did I get this way? The bowling teams I performed with. Parents pulled me aside and sternly said, “Get the girls off your mind and start playing for real.” Once locked onto the adult leagues, accepted betting forced me into a challenge to be better than the best or be like Tiger Woods and start throwing my tools at anything and everything other than having a fun.
Who’s winning when you’ve stopped keeping score?
It’s totally affected the career. A trick I picked up from former NBA standout and now Bobcat announcer Del Curry…it’s perfectly fine to be the 6th man. Always be ready to be unexpectedly called into action. Once on the court shoot to win then go sit down again. You won’t sell the most jerseys nor will your baseball cards be worth more than ten cents in a two dollar pack. Doesn’t matter…surrounding your self with winners has a bigger payoff.
Some recent changes have me pulling off some wickedly weird hours and it seems the only concern offered by others is based on whether there’s a balloon popping pay off. Not a single word based on how strong the team remains.
If a bowling ball is dropped on the foot of the strongest player on the team…where does your attitude sit? Do you council the nearly shattered foot or find yourself worried about the end result of the unfinished game? How do you keep score?
If your current place of employment opens the door for Game Show Friday’s…what reason if any do you participate? Is it a loser leave town approach or a cut loose laid back friendly game of darts? Are you the coworker who takes an extra hour for lunch knowing going back affects your end result more than what being absent might do to others striving to achieve higher marks not for themselves but the company?
Who’s keeping score during a down economy? Maybe the makers of little people T-Ball are onto something when deciding not to count runs—walking away with an everybody’s a winner attitude paints a single outlet of peace until you come face to face with Kevin the Brawler who wastes no time to grind you up and spit a positive attitude into a tobacco chew cup sitting near the door.
How do you pop your balloons? There’s no right or wrong way…but understanding how everybody plays makes it a more productive day.
arroecollins@clearchannel.com
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