The 300th best tennis player in the world is so much better than you are at tennis that it is hard to articulate the difference in ability. His second serve is consistently over 90 mph; his understanding of strategy is voluminous. Were you to play a match against the 300th best tennis player in the world, there is no chance that you would win one game never mind an entire set. It is unlikely that you would score even one point. You would lose 6-0, 6-0, 6-0.
If you were lucky.
The 300th best tennis player in the world was far and away the best tennis player in his high school, the best tennis player in the city in which he grew up, and very likely the best tennis player on his college team. He has a box full of trophies from tournaments all over the country. He is a tremendous athlete.
Yet for all his skill, for all devotion to practice, for all his years of play, the 300th best tennis player on the planet Earth does not make a living from playing tournament tennis. On a given day, he might take a set from the 200th best tennis player in the world. He might even win many of his service games against Roger Federer or Novak Djokovic, were he to somehow participate in a major international tournament against the best of the best, but he bears the expense for his shoes, rackets, and gear. No corporate sponsor or shoe company is paying for his plane tickets to tournaments. If the 300th best tennis player in the world is working in tennis at all, it is as the tennis pro at a country club in a small town in the Midwest. His modest salary pays for his apartment, but if he wants to get married, buy a house, and have children, he is going to have to think about another career.
Certainly there is nothing wrong with earning an honest living doing that which you love: what could be better than getting paid for playing tennis? But if the goal originally was spotlight, fame, millions of dollars and an exorbitant lifestyle, then it must be acknowledged that the fame train has left the station.
The likelihood that the 300th best tennis player in the world becomes number one is something under one in 300. The Number One tennis player in the world did not achieve that ranking by losing to number 300.
A similar argument can be made for the best actress in your child’s school, the best violinist, the best writer, the best ballerina, the best photographer, the best artist, the best anything.
Indeed, the number of activities from which your children can make a life but cannot make a living is almost endless: how many working ballerinas do you know?
Here’s a riddle: What’s the difference between a drummer and a park bench?
A park bench can support a family of four.
You know the Heisman Trophy, the award for the best player in college football in a given year? There have been 77 recipients since inception. Of whom 15 never played a down in the NFL. There is a 20 % chance that the best player in all of college football in a given year doesn’t even get drafted.
Your child therefore had better enjoy soccer, singing, ballet, trombone, karate, or drawing. This essay is not a screed against following a passion for the liberal arts, athletics, or fine arts. This article is an admonition against thinking that your child is going to make a living from being the best at something. Chances are she’s not going to be the best. Lots of tennis players. Only one of whom is the best.
I love my running group, the conversation, the camaraderie, the health benefits. But I am not waiting by the phone for someone to offer me free running shoes and a $50,000 appearance fee to run the New York Marathon, an event in which I might finish 27,000th out of 40,000 entrants.
Most people do not have reality shows dedicated to their brutal extravagances. If your children are likely to lead lives not of quiet desperation but just of quiet living–going to work, finding happiness and contentment where they can–why are you setting them up for the almost invariable disappointment of not being the absolute best at tennis or tuba? A more sensible goal, that of doing the best you can and enjoying the journey win or lose, is much more likely to lead to every good outcome.
Given how staggeringly unlikely it is that your offspring is the next Ludvig Van, doesn’t shouting, bribing, or being unhappy with your child about piano lessons seems a tragic expenditure of happiness? Doesn’t helping prepare your child to be content rather than number one make statistical as well as emotional sense?
6 thoughts on “Game, Set, Match”
Well said! Enjoyed the column, as always.
http://www.bloomberg.com/news/features/2015-08-28/costs-of-noah-rubin-becoming-the-world-s-631st-best-tennis-player
I’ll never forget the impression it made on me as an incoming college Freshman on the cross country team. I had been blessed to have some moderate success as a high school athlete. I was very surprised to learn that even at a small liberal arts Christian college, everybody on the team had been a high school star–most state champions. I’ve told that story many times!
By the way. Nobody ever asked me if I was a robot before. I was temporarily stumped as I considered the philosophical, existential implications of that question, and then I just decided to put “no.”
David: I read this one with interest, as I do all your blogs (and continue to admire your ability to get them out every Tuesday). I have to wonder about something, though, and would love your thoughts: I have two 10th-grade girls, both of whom are (so far) straight A students, both of whom are on the J.V. tennis team, both of whom play violin in an orchestra (at school or otherwise), and one of whom plays saxophone in the marching band as well. The realistic goals for them are not to be a tennis star, or play in the L.A. Phil. But there ARE certain goals they can achieve, and those goals make a real difference (we are told) in college admissions decisions: whether you are concertmaster of the upper-level orchestra (as opposed to second violinist in the lower-level one); whether you get to the Varsity tennis team, etc. Because, we are told, almost anyone can get on a team or get into a musical group; fewer have the talent and drive to achieve something within the group.
So, when your kid needs poking (not physical, of course) to study a bit more for the math test, to practice the violin piece, to spend an extra hour a week on the court — isn’t there some value in pushing a bit, and how do you know the limit when you get pushback? Despite your philosophy, which feels to me a bit like, “Just find a college where you fit in and you’ll do fine, it doesn’t matter if it’s Yale or Oberlin,” isn’t there SOME value, if the kid can handle it, in shooting for the better school, and isn’t it OK to put SOME pressure on them to develop discipline?
Reading your blogs regularly, I understand that you put the overall happiness of the child above incremental extra achievement. And I agree. But “overall happiness” isn’t the same as “happiness in every moment.” Isn’t there some degree of momentary unhappiness I can, and should, cause by forcing them to do things they don’t want to do, to achieve a higher chance of overall happiness later in life? And how do I know where to draw the line?
Happy belated 59th, dude. We’re all getting closer to crossing the next decade line together (within a number of months). Hope you’re still running when you’re 80.
Kevin
Tom Kite’s father took him to Byron Nelson to talk some sense into him and tell him how impossible it was for him to make a living on the PGA tour. Fortunately, Byron Nelson told him to follow his dream. As a boy, people told Derek Jeter he would never realize his dream of playing 2nd base for the NY Yankees. I agree you shouldn’t push your children, but you shouldn’t discourage them from pursuing their dream. We can be all things God intends us to be. If God puts a dream in our heart, we should diligently pursue it and glorify Him with our actions.
There are ways, though, that we must encourage hard work and discourage laziness. And in order to deal with a warped perception of “best” we must also deal with images that kids see every day.
How can we encourage “their best,” not “the best?”
Here’s what I mean. First, compared with only 100 years ago, our entertainment needs are so easy to gratify today – passively.
Back then we made time for parlor performances – where a family member plays piano for guests while little sister sings. Without TV and movies, these talents were automatically set in good perspective. “It’s nice to have talents. It makes one well rounded. You’ll get a job, of course. But not in entertainment.”
Everything in Altshuler’s article rightly warns about entertainment as it is today. Professional sports, music, dance all focus on individuals at the very top. All are presented with admiration, and a backstory of dedication. These are ideals worth talking about. But attainment of “best” status is tough in the entertainment fields – almost impossible – despite the romantic backstories. But uniquely in entertainment, our communications allow us to consume only the best. Second best performances aren’t worth our time. Even the top one percent of athletes aren’t worth a moment.
And compared to 100 years ago, we can now see recordings of the greatest concerts and singers of all time, any time. Why listen to our own sister?
What’s between nothing and best? How do we get our kids to strive for “their best,” not “the best?”
Here’s a start:
I also now advise as I heard another CEO do, recently:
“Do what you’re good at.”
What you love? No.
Do what you’re good at. If you’re in an organization that’s paying you now, you’re already doing better than the 300th best Tennis player.
With entertainers, we can always see their best. There’s very little interest, or need, for second best.
But if you’re in a business that provides goods and services, you can usually be paid well for doing your best. And if you start with what you’re good at, the feedback will be positive, and you’ll be rewarded with more challenges and more money.
Save what you love for your pleasure, your avocation, the thing that takes you away from the world to a special place. Making it your work might ruin it, actually.
Now find a way to tell your kids when they’re playing sports, “Look, I’m here to watch you while you learn. If you don’t do your best, you won’t learn a thing. But if you do, I’m with you all the way.
And, if you do try your best, you’ll learn that you can usually beat one type of guy – the average guy who doesn’t try his best. That’s true in life. Now that you’ve learned that, don’t be that guy.”
What about winning? Winning sure is important. If everybody plays their best, if they collaborate, if they practice, they can improve. They can win more than they lose. That’s the lesson on winning. And with honest effort, it’s very realistic.
What about losing? It happens. If we didn’t lose once in a while, it would be a sign that we’re not playing at the right level. Losing conveys lessons. What’d we learn? What would we do differently? And therefore, what should we work on?
These are the results of honest participation: you either win or you learn, and over the long haul, both.
I agree with him emphatically on one point: perspective. Don’t scream at your kid, who isn’t “the best.” Were you?
Little League Baseball and guitar and tennis and dancing lessons can bring joy to childhood and richness to adult experiences too.
The joy of accomplishment in any field is the best fuel for confidence and achievement in every field. Let’em have it as it comes. Each step.
I remember Roger Federer saying that if he did not love the game of tennis , he would not continue playing