One thing I’ve learned in my twenty-two years of life is that the one common denominator in my failures in life is arrogance. I’m not sure exactly what causes one to be arrogant (they are cocky by nature, they are aggressive, or they are concealing self-doubt), but I’ve always found that when I am arrogant, whether it’s in a game of Madden or in a footrace, I tend to fall short.
Maybe it’s the pressure building. Maybe it’s covering up doubt, or “puffing.” Maybe it’s karma. Either way, I’ve talked a whole bunch in my life, and not always walked the walk. The more I am confident, the more I’m sure I’ll do well, or beat someone, or make a cut, the more likely I don’t. I think the reason is that when one is so confident that they are unshakable, or infallible, they underestimate the force amassing against them. That’s certainly true of me—there have been many times where I underestimate someone or something only to be humbled. Call it cosmic justice or fate, but I’m just thankful to say that just recently, I may have learned of this fundamental error I kept making.
I’m more humble. I’m not humble in the declarative, final sense, because all of us are human, and all of us fall short of ideals. I try to be humble, I try to pray for humility, and I tend to undervalue my own performances for fear of being cocky and stumbling. Every round of moot court, I went into the room thinking Will and I could be beaten, and that I could lose the round. I created that presumption to work against, to climb up from, and ideally overcome. Now, this all must be tempered by the idea that one does not want to be a defeatist, but that’s not what I’m advocating. What I’ve realized, though, is that not only does humility work for me, but it also makes you a lot more likeable of a guy.
Take the example of the typical arrogant or cocky person, who is smart and able and knows damn well that they are. These are the sorts that take pains to make sure everyone else knows how smart they are, how hip they are, or how good they are at something. I’ve always thought that except for the very true progenies (freaks of nature like Einsteins or Lebron Jameses), most of those people are compensating for some inner doubt or unhappiness. This presents two problems, though. First, when they do win (as they are wont to do, being as smart or talented that they are), no one cheers with them. In fact, many people secretly root against these people. Second, when they do eventually fall short, they’re not given the sportsman handshake or showered in admiration by their peers. No, they get the sense that everyone is thankful they’ve fallen, and then beat themselves up over it. Either way, projecting one’s arrogance or self-confidence to these levels (unless you’re T.O. and you need to see the world as haters) can only bring you down.
The point of this is that it’s an ideal. I strive for it, as do the majority of people around. I’m certainly one to stray—just ask my friends when I start winning in Call of Duty 4. But it’s served me well in this tournament, and it’s refreshing to think that I may be on to something for a change.
NS
Posted by WK 