A Bridge Named Team
Hilariously, I crack open a book titled Yankees ’98 Best Ever. Me, the girl whose greatest insight into the game of baseball is “If you have to go to a baseball game, the best use of your time is to stay for 4-5 innings, long enough to enjoy the soft pretzels and lemonade.” Also, I’ve repeatedly stolen an old colleague’s dry commentary that “Baseball is 15 minutes of action packed into
4 ½ hours.” Baseball people, please don’t stop reading! I get you...sorta, kinda. Because the reason this NY Yankees glossy, special Daily News edition sits high up on the shelf in my loft
(I emphasize high) is because this, and a host of other baseball classics and memorabilia, is the undeniable evidence of the presence of my baseball-crazed...I mean baseball-loving husband.
I’m always thankful for him; but today I’m actually grateful for his library of baseball stuff. Because this particular volume has sparked my interest in learning more about the concept of “team.”
This is what I read about the 1998 Yankees. “How wonderfully compelling a summer it was for all New Yorkers to witness this charming superstarless team. The manner in which they went about their work was their greatest quality. There were no public gripes; no egos; no I; no me; just what we can do...to win 114 games in this me-first millionaire era says volumes about this special collection of men who have methodically and yes, lovingly (there I’ve said it) focused on their craft in a masterful way. By intrinsically putting money, ego, and commercial interferences aside,
they have re-established the concept of team.” (Karalekas iv). Well, my daddy raised a football girl; but I won’t blink twice reading this baseball book. Many lessons to be learned here about dreams and teams.
I’ve sat in the bleachers, on the dirty gym floors, on blankets in the grass on delicious late-spring evenings, and shivering in fold-up camp chairs on soccer field sidelines. I’ve been a faithful spectator of all my kids’ teams. You’d think in the space of time between chatting with other moms and dads and chasing toddlers in my younger years, I’d have paid attention long enough to glean some wisdom about teams, even if I don’t always know the score. And why should I...why should anyone care about teams anyway?
I mean I’m definitely not a team player when it comes to exercise...no hyper-amped-up group workouts or running partners for me. I prefer a long jog or solitary walk on the trail by the river, or peaceful yoga in a dim room. My greatest competition is myself. I need no other incentive. Maybe I’m not much of a team player when it comes to life either. I tend to fold inward...analyzing my problems, scrutinizing myself all by myself. My often isolated, solitude-loving soul defaults...well...defaults to me. And there’s the rub, the reason to consider that I may need to grow in another direction.
Most of us can agree on the benefits of teams “out there”...in our workplaces, in sports, in organizations. But what about you and me? Where have we missed it? Tried to “go it alone,” and walked wondering through the land of “maybe someday” or “maybe never” with a dream that seemed too big for our little island selves. There is a bridge you know, a place to take steps, walk gingerly, shyly across into “today” and “now,” where that big dream doesn’t seem so insurmountable, so unachievable. That bridge has a name called Team.
“Easier said than done,” you say. Yeah, I say it too. Because I’ve done a lot of dreaming in a sublime cerebral world where inspired ideas pop color, but my beautiful dress never makes it out the door. That’s because I talk myself down off that ledge pretty handily. I call in my friends...Fear, Doubt, and Pride, and we all agree that it would be best to keep those ideas to ourselves.
We introverted types don’t need much encouragement to just leave the dream a dream, where it stays protected and sacred...and perfect. But there’s always “What if”? What if I really could make my vision a reality? What if I really could do something to change my world...change the world?” And the most pressing, barely a whisper question: “What if someone out there needs what I have to offer?” Hush! The audacity of the thought!
And so, timidly, I ask myself, “What if my friends Fear, Doubt, and Pride take a day off?” In fact, what if they never showed up in the first place? Would that beautiful bridge appear with crystal clarity, stretched out in front of me, awaiting only me and my backpack of dreams? Wouldn’t that be nice? And easy? But it’s never really as easy as that. In fact, I think we need to build the supports first before we can cross over the bridge named Team. I have to somehow drop my dream in the weeds and focus on the building process. And who wants to do that? And how? Maybe make new friends...friends called Humility, Release, and Value.
It’s a courageous thing to hold out your dream for someone else to eye up. It’s just like saying,
“I made this gift; I picked the colors; I smiled when I painted the picture; I felt happiness with myself when I did this; now what do you think of it?” Yikes! If you’re like me, that gesture alone is enough to make me pull the covers over my head and say “Forget it.” Vulnerability is not our human default. It only comes with practice. Ahh, and it’s the first swing of the hammer in building the bridge to Team, because it may be the first sighting of a teammate. For all the risk in revealing your gift, your idea, or your dream, there is the sweet possibility that someone . . . possibly more than one, will take it from you and hold it tenderly. They might even breathe new life into it and add some breathtaking color. And there it is: one bridge support you can name Humility.
Then, there is the realization that you might need to let go of some things that have attached to your dream over time. Have you had those energized visions of impact...the ones where everyone who brushed up against your dream is miraculously changed, and eternally grateful to you?
I sure love those visions. I’d like to stay in that movie theater and watch that plot play out for a long time. And after all, the world screams “Chase your dreams!”, implying control how they play out. But the power stroke of the hammer comes when you unclutch your hand and let go of your stranglehold on outcome. This is a relinquishment that is full of promise; because it’s possible that a team of kindred spirits can provide a greater outcome than you ever thought when you held your dream so tightly. If you can backtrack and find the pure beginning of your lovely dream, when it had no strings attached and no ambition...it’s in that blazing moment that you have built the support you can name Release.
And so with friends like Humility and Release, you can happily consider the importance of your dream. This is no identity crisis. No healthy person lives or dies on the credibility of their dream. That’s because they’ve shyly invited the scrutiny of outsiders and lived. They’ve released the pressure of assuring certain outcomes and rested in the field of open possibilities. In short, you are not your dream; your identity isn’t your vision, your product, your idea, or your art.
But because you were so lovingly created with intrinsic, immeasurable value, your dream is
highly valuable. It’s the currency that only you can drop in the world’s treasury. So, hurray for your contribution and hurray for the team that carries you all the way to home plate. And with the last proud swing of the hammer, you have constructed the final support. You can name that one Value.
So maybe even us loners, the fragile creators, the inspired dreamers, the quiet thinkers, and the brilliant questioners can clear our throats and ask this one brave thing: “Is there a team for my dream?”. Ask the question again...this time a little louder. And who knows, maybe this is our new beginning, our very own ribbon-cutting ceremony, even if it’s a small one. In this act, we turn a corner, come up a hill, and see the bridge we never saw until the fog lifted...a bridge named Team.
Karalekas, Chris N. (1998). Fans Love Their Classy Champs. Champaign, IL: Sports Publishing Inc. (Reprinted from The Daily News, 1998)
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