Relative Something

There is a simple phrase that is on my mind today… “If you don’t have anything good to say, don’t say anything at all.” Think a moment, about the power of negative feedback. It is by no means limited to our words.

It really struck home for me the other day during my morning soccer. I play in a group that includes a variety of ages and abilities, gathering three times a week for recreational pick-up games. We accomplish a wide range of successes and failures in our attempts to enact the artistry of the sport. Nobody that I know intentionally fails. But failure happens, and it’s tough enough for individuals to accept it about themselves –people usually judges themselves much more harshly than they ever would others. There is no constructive benefit from expressing consternation and distress over another player’s mistakes.

Yes, it’s personal experience speaking here. I will admit to being oversensitive, but regardless, yesterday I gained new insight about the power that such a negative gesture holds. For reasons that defy sensible logic, I felt an immense surge of inadequacy when, after my errant kick sailed uselessly out of play, my teammate dropped his shoulders, brought his chin to his chest, and rocked his head side to side in a gesture of the verbal, “no.” My reaction was visceral, immediate, and I’m sure appeared entirely out of proportion in relation to his involuntary behavior that my blunder had triggered. I apologized to him, loudly and directly (twice) as play continued without me. Then I asked for a sub and walked off the floor.

There is a side lesson that deserves to be recognized in explanation for what appears to be an inordinate level of upset over such a simple and obvious reaction from a teammate. It involves taking into account the time-weighted average dose of similar demonstrations of dissatisfaction that I have been experiencing from this same individual. The first time it happens, it is no big deal. A teammate becoming frustration is a pretty natural reaction. This same teammate is wonderfully vocal during play, directing and offering advice for our activity. I’m pretty sure his being vocal contributes to my feeling bad when I am unable to live up to the direction, but again, that isn’t anything out of the ordinary. But over and over, as my ability to fail continues to accompany my successes, his visible frustrations tend to accumulate in my head. It breaks my heart to let him down, it truly does. By yesterday’s session, I guess I reached a breaking point.

The real lesson for me however, involves how a negative response impacts everyone else around. Quite simply, the important fact that it does have impact and there is nothing positive about it. Here’s another way to look at it: consider what making that response positive would be like. What if my failure was met by a smile of recognition, noting that we all miss-hit the ball at times? What if I heard calls of assurance indicating that I’d get it right next time? What if he said, “Don’t let it get you down, John. Keep at it!”? Seriously. He doesn’t even need to mean what he says. It would make a world of difference in my disposition.

As it was, I composed myself on the side for a few minutes and then returned to the game with my attitude reset. In the ensuing play I was treated to a bit of karmic justice, as my friend finished the morning with several of his own failures, one after another. I didn’t exactly shower him with supportive chatter, but it wasn’t hard at all to not hang my head in disgust each time, either. It was simple. I know what kind of negative message that gesture sends.