It occurred to me, this past week, that several recent events in the world of sports parallel the working world we all face each day.
Maybe we can learn something about our own working lives from these sports-related stories.
At the British Open, Adam Scott enjoyed a comfortable 4 stroke lead on Sunday with only four holes left to play.
As one announcer put it—when Scott was on the 14th hole, he “had one hand on the Claret Jug.”
Up to that point he had played rock-steady, even somewhat dull golf to build a seemingly insurmountable lead.
Four holes, four bogeys by Scott, and a timely Ernie Els birdie later, he had lost the Open Championship in a collapse for the ages.
Perhaps more than in any other sport, a golfer’s fortunes can turn on a dime and for Scott this must have been a day on which he questioned (more than once) why he plays this harsh game.
As he teed off on the 18th hole, needing par just to force a playoff with Els, I couldn’t help thinking that his hands must have been shaking under the pressure.
He’d have to have been superhuman not to be absolutely crumbling inside after blowing his lead so quickly.
Hitting off the tee on the 18th, had Scott asked himself, “If, before the tournament, you had told me I’ll be on the 72nd hole needing a par to get into a playoff to win the Claret Jug, would I have been happy about that prospect?” surely his answer would have been a resounding “Yes!”
And, had he been able to focus exclusively on that “glass half full” perspective, perhaps the outcome would have been different.
Regardless, while Scott surely felt horrible about this missed opportunity, it’s just one moment in a long, productive career.
Many of golf’s greatest players have experienced a similar collapse —Greg Norman, Arnold Palmer, Phil Mickelson and Sam Snead among them.
In the workplace, we all have good days and we all have bad days.
Sometimes, the bad days seem to outweigh all the good days that went before.
But it is important for us all to remember that we’re human (after all) and that, while we’re likely to have our own version of Scott’s collapse somewhere along the way, that should not define us.
We can all afford to give ourselves a break and remember that the good work we do far outweighs our worst day on the job.
A couple of weeks ago, Andy Murray of Scotland reached the Wimbledon final against Roger Federer.
Murray, very clearly the underdog (except, perhaps, to the plucky British fans), battled Federer hard and managed to win the first set.
But it soon became plain that Murray was simply overmatched. Federer’s pinpoint placement of shots to the left and right had Murray racing back and forth across the court in game after game.
By the third set, Murray looked like he had run a marathon and, honestly, I thought Federer appeared as if he had barely warmed up.
It was somewhat agonizing to see Murray struggling to make some kind of headway against the Swiss juggernaut.
Murray’s concession speech, afterwards, was a tearjerker to be sure.
Here was a guy who has battled all through his career with the expectations of the British media and tennis fans weighing him down and who finally reached the pinnacle of his sport but came up short.
Murray’s loss was not due to a collapse of the type Adam Scott experienced but was because, despite possibly playing one of the best matches of his career, he just wasn’t good enough.
On that day, he could not beat a man who is arguably the best male tennis player of all time. Really, who could?
Surely we can all take away that there can be dignity in defeat and that, sometimes, even our best simply isn’t good enough.
There’s no shame in laying it all on the line and in allowing people to know how much we wanted it and how hard it was to settle for second.
The reaction of the Wimbledon crowd to Murray’s efforts demonstrated their heartfelt appreciation.
Maybe he will have another shot at the Wimbledon title someday but I don’t think it will matter because he made his lasting mark on the tournament in 2012.
At Penn State University, the once-golden reputation of legendary coach Joe Paterno continues to crumble.
It was revealed, through evidence of written communications, that Paterno (who has since passed away) was consulted on whether to take action to disclose the sexual abuse of young boys by coach Jerry Sandusky.
The inference to be drawn from the communications was that Paterno had some impact on the cover up of the abuse.
If this was the case it was, of course, the wrong course of action and its implications for Paterno’s legacy and for Penn State University and its vaunted football program now seem disastrous.
Paterno’s statue has even been removed from the university grounds and it seems likely that the school’s football program will be suspended (it certainly should be, in my view).
Paterno’s story is a cautionary tale for individuals in organizational leadership positions.
The forces motivating leaders to ignore, deny, and even cover up improprieties within their organizations are powerful.
I’ve often said, in the course of my practice, that we should recognize that we are treading in hazardous waters when we resort to asking ourselves, “What are the chances anyone will ever find out?”
The possibility that nobody will ever find out is no basis to begin, or continue, engaging in an inappropriate or unlawful practice (or to cover it up).
Had Paterno, or anyone else in the know, made the choice to expose Sandusky’s horrendous exploitation of vulnerable boys at an early opportunity, there can be little doubt that the organizational ramifications would have been much different.
The real victims are the boys who were victimized by Sandusky. While Penn State and Paterno’s surviving family members may now suffer mightily as a result of Paterno’s role in this regrettable saga, no one should shed a tear for them.
But their situation serves to remind us that positions of authority carry great responsibility and it is the decisions we make every day which define our legacy. A reputation is built over a lifetime, but can be destroyed in an instant.
