Don’t say it. Don’t think it. Don’t anticipate it. Don’t jinx it.
What are we talking about? We can’t really say.
Suffice it to suggest that we’re referring to a sports team of local fame (or infamy) that may, or may not, be on the cusp of the playoffs in a sport that involves striking balls with long clubs.
You understand why we can’t name this team or suggest that we have a clue to its fate — or, dare we say, its destiny.
Why are we so reticent? Because there’s nothing worse than figuring something’s in the bag when it isn’t. You get complacent. You get lazy. You lose focus. Things start happening.
Bad things.
Maybe you think this is all too cautious. There’s no such thing as curses or jinxes or weird bounces or balls that glance off a fan’s glove or skitter by on a course that seems to defy the laws of physics. Maybe you think the tradition of not discussing a sterling performance while it is in progress is silly superstition. Or that a player or team that appears on Sports Illustrated’s cover isn’t doomed to tank.
Wrong.
The game is played on the field and in the mind. You can’t separate the two.
For 99 years, fans have tried various approaches in willing a certain team toward the ultimate victory. They’ve tried yearning, praying, exhorting. They’ve abandoned logic for a pure, scalding belief in fate. They’ve steeled themselves with logic and stats and an abiding faith in the law of averages. (See: 2004 Boston Red Sox.) They’ve worried and fretted.
In short, they’ve wanted it too much. The sports universe doesn’t often yield to those who are too impatient, those who wring their hands, tap their feet, sweat each pitch.
The savvy negotiator knows that a buyer who wants something too much is certain to overpay for it. The wise sports fan knows that too much pressure creates expectations that can easily tumble out of control. Expectations stoke pressure. Pressure creates mistakes.
The game is played on the field and in the mind. You can’t separate the two.
May we suggest another approach? Try serene confidence, bordering on nonchalance. Sit still. Be silent. Practice a placid resolve that all will turn out well. The team will do what it will do in the next few days. Forget about stats and matchups and slumps and hot streaks and history. Breathe deeply. Uncross your fingers. Stop worrying. Forget about history as prelude. Let victory unfurl like a crisp fall breeze off the lake.
