Professional sports provide a valuable source of insight for progressive-minded activists. If we pay attention to how pro athletes are so successful, we can apply those lessons to our political activism.
Human beings are naturally attracted to highly skilled performances. We delight in the beauty of exceptional achievements and vicariously imagine ourselves in their shoes. With fellow fans, we experience community that dissolves normal barriers. Like gangs, we wear our colors proudly. Our favorite players are virtual icons, near religious idols to whom we are devoted. As we follow sports, we can learn better how to live, as youngsters can develop character from playing.
My favorite sport is baseball, partly because I grew up obsessed with it, but also because I like its pace, which corresponds more closely to real life than does football and basketball. Baseball, without much physical violence, requires a balance between being both relaxed and intense. But what interests me most about baseball is the importance of team spirit and how it is cultivated.
Long before the steroid controversy, I disagreed with my friends who said Barry Bonds was the greatest player ever. I argued he was not because his prima donna attitude undermined the team cohesion that is needed to win the World Series, which he never won. He wouldn’t even bother to show up for the annual team photo, which was important for many teammates who wanted to show their grandchildren that photo with Bonds in it. Being a great player involves more than physical skill. It requires inner skill as well.
When the San Francisco Giants won the World Series for the first time in 2010, their team chemistry was magical. But the next year the Giants clubhouse fell into a funk. Two under-performing players were unhappy they weren’t playing more than they were and they expressed their unhappiness in destructive ways. At the end of the season, a veteran leader of the team, Pat Burrell, without naming names, commented, “Everyone needs to be pulling in the same direction and if one player is pulling in the opposite direction, it’s a real problem.”
Contrast that dynamic to the role that Barry Zito played in the 2010 post-season. Zito, a former super-star, was left off the roster, unable to play in any of the games. I suspect most players in that situation would have gone home. But Zito stayed with the team, both in the clubhouse and the dugout, and cheered them on, probably offering helpful words of advice and encouragement from time to time.
Another telling story is a Giants’ relief pitcher, I believe it was Sergio Romo, who said that Brian Wilson, the Giants’ closer, once helped him get over the disappointment he felt when the manager would take him out of the game after a weak performance. Wilson told him that when he was young a mentor told him, “Look, you have to trust your teammates (who take your place).” Romo said those words of advice were a real turning point for him. It’s not all about you, he learned. It’s mostly about the team.
There’s no guaranteed formula for growing a tight-knit, harmonious team. Reggie Jackson’s Oakland A’s fought vehemently and Willie Stargells’ Pittsburgh Pirates were “We are Family.” But some methods work more often than others and I’d love to learn more of those secrets. But one method that stands out is the importance of honest, clear communication between the manager and the players, so that the players know their role and what to expect. We can try to have “no expectations” all we want and some gurus may maintain that attitude. But we mortals need to have some reliable idea of what to expect from our close associates. And we need them to generally do what they say they will do.
It helps for team members to get to know and support one another as human beings. I recall that at one time all of the members of the Golden State Warriors basketball team all lived in the same small town, Alameda, near their home stadium, and socialized together extensively. A winning sports team needs to be like a family. The same goes for an effective activist organization.
Another key ingredient is humor. Athletes need to have fun together. Some credit Aubrey Huff with providing the glue that brought the 2010 team together when he started wearing a red “rally thong” in the clubhouse. When asked about the cross-dressing (which fit in San Francisco), Bruce Bochy, the manager, said, “Well, Aubrey is proud of his body.” So it was appropriate that Huff was waving the thong while riding in a motorized cable car on the victory parade and pulled it out of his pants and waved it at the conclusion of the victory rally in front of City Hall.
Brian Wilson also provided frequent comic relief, especially with his various pieces of performance art such as the notorious “The Machine” YouTube video that prompted praise from Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger at the victory rally.
I doubt any sports team has ever reflected the unique character of its hometown as much as the 2010 Giants, which may have contributed to their team spirit. The fans’ love of the team was returned by the team. This mutual bond certainly contributed to the team’s success.
But what is most critical, it seems to me, is Brian Wilson’s point. Each team member must primarily be committed not to her or his own self-interest but to the team. Transcending ego-centered focus, especially in our hyper-individualistic modern world, is not easy. But when it snaps into place, often mysteriously, it is powerful.
It’s easier for a sports team, or a residential community, to develop a sense of family, for they spend so much time together. Nurturing a similar sense of deep community in an urban setting with time-challenged members living in their own homes is more difficult. But it’s not impossible. Religious communities often do it, but the law prohibits them from joint, explicit political activity.
Activist organizations sometimes develop a sense of community naturally, spontaneously. But I believe we could grow deeper, more rewarding communities with a conscious, intentional commitment to that goal. How to do so, however, is another, more difficult question.
In addition to the development of a sense of family, sports teams are also instructive in that they constantly nurture skills development, including psychological growth. Athletes are never fully satisfied. They always want to get better and they know that improvement is rooted in their inner experience, their thoughts and feelings. When athletes talk about how they work on their mental attitude, they sound like Buddhist monks, or Benjamin Franklin spinning aphorisms.
What they seek more than anything is being “in the zone,” which involves the cessation of thinking and just reacting spontaneously. “See the ball, hit the ball.” It’s not that they aren’t aware mentally. They note the reality in front of them. But thinking involves getting absorbed in a train of thoughts and doing that while performing is deadly for an athlete. Based on my interviews of my taxi passengers, people in the modern world hardly ever stop thinking. We would do well to learn from professional athletes the benefits that can come from not thinking.
When they aren’t performing, athletes critically analyze their performance, whether watching videotapes alone or discussing issues with coaches and other players. But when it comes time to act, they try to put those thoughts aside. They aren’t always successful, of course. Getting into the zone can be elusive. As with other necessary inner skills, course corrections mid-stream are frequently necessary.
An inner strength that is frequently lacking with athletes is self-confidence. Given the intensity of the competition, doubts creep in easily and can be hard to shake. And there’s no magic bullet to restore confidence. Managers and coaches must learn how to offer criticism constructively and carefully. A delicate balance between honest criticism and positive support is essential. Sound familiar?
An obvious inner strength required in professional sports is self-discipline. As ever more athletes perform at ever-higher levels of excellence, the requisite work ethic increases to phenomenal levels. Or so it seems to a slacker like me. But if we want to enhance our performance and achieve all that we can, whatever our effort, cultivating and often enhancing our self-discipline is crucial.
But most athletes and their teams realize that being well-rounded human beings contributes to success on the field. Male players take off time to be with their wives when they give birth and otherwise lead a normal life, and being engaged in community-service activities is highly valued. Becoming narrowly, totally obsessed with success on the field can result in stunted emotional growth that results in a brittle rigidity that leads to a sudden decline in performance, as may have happened with Tiger Woods.
The intersection of the inner and the outer in sports is also reflected in how many athletes rely on their spiritual faith to sustain them. Orlando Cabrera, a young blooming super-star, for example, quietly carries with him two baseballs labeled with citations from the Psalms and keeps them in his locker.
A favorite story of mine is that Dusty Baker, a master of folk wisdom, introduced music into the clubhouse (especially reggae). And now all teams do it. Players even insist that music is played from the stadium’s sound system when they take batting practice. One former player, the announcer Duane Kuiper, said he would have found such music distracting. But I dig it. Music can nurture a productive state of mind.
So the truism is true. Baseball builds character. And character fosters success.
