Last week's
instant karma was, "Give yourself freedom to
fail." I managed to use this when I was playing at Potlatch this past
weekend. It helped: both Jane and Mark independently told me they have
never seen me play better than I played this weekend. I'm very happy to
hear those words.
I used that mantra and two others to help me before the start of every game
and the start of every point I played. I'm guessing it helped based on Mark
and Jane's comments.
Before the second game on Saturday, which was also the second game of the
tournament, at the end of the team warmups, someone (I think it was Kris)
said, "Do whatever it takes to psych yourself up." I'm surprised I heard
the words: they weren't said loudly. But, I took them to heart.
At the beginning of every point, as I stood on the line waiting for the
pull, I gave myself the freedom to fail (fail to defend fully, fail to throw
the perfect throw, fail to make the perfect catch). And then I did whatever
it took to psych myself up, which meant deciding to play hard.
The difference between deciding to play hard and making no decision is a big
deal. The team's energy helps in making that decision. If the team is
excited to play hard, then playing harder is easier, but it still has to be
an individual's (conscious or unconscious) decision to play harder. On the
line, I chose to play harder.
Mid-Sunday, I added a third line to my mental chatter on the line, waiting
for a pull. During a point, after a turnover, I was jogging back to the
stack, when I heard Kris' voice from the sideline: "Run hard."
At the time I wasn't sure if he was talking directly to me, or the team as a
whole, but I always seem to hear his voice over the rush of the game and the
cacophany of the crowd. Run hard.
And I did.
I ran as hard as I could that possession. I ran as hard as I could that
point. I ran as hard as I could that game.
And at the end of that game, after we had won, sitting tired and exhausted in
the circle talking about the game and the day, Jane came up to me and
said she had never seen me play so well. I had become, in her words, one of
those wily veteran handler types.
Thank you, Jane. Those words mean so much to me.
We ended up ranked 16th at the beginning of the third day. Our first game
of the day was against Team USA, who was ranked first for the tournament,
having been ranked first for the whole tournament. We played scared. I
dropped an easy disc thrown to me, but caused a turnover with an aggressive
mark. We lost 15-7, handily beating the over/under betting score of 4.
Our next game was against Brass Monkey, who had spent most of the morning
before the first game complaining they should be ranked higher than 9th. In
as much as they lost the 8 vs 9 game first thing in the morning, I had to
agree with the tournament organizers in their ranking.
Worse for them, we beat them by two points, to send them down into the 13-16
rankings, as we climbed up to the 9-12 rankings. The worst we could do was
12th. Hot Damn.
I continued to give myself the freedom to fail, do whatever I needed to do
to psyche myself up, and run hard. I had a great time. Mischief finished
10th out of 100 teams. And I had the best tournament of my life.
Maybe there's something to this self-forgiveness: allowing myself the
freedom to fail and discovering I can succeed.
