sometimes competition = bad news

Originally written - January 4, 2007

It’s a strange thing when you realize your faults. I’ve long ago accepted that I am a disaster (as I have probably stated in all of my previous posts), but this was always in a more general sense. It’s a much more difficult and troubling to become aware of your individual vices. For me, one of these was made disturbingly evident last night. I have always been an extremely competitive person, extending from the sports field to the living room playing video games (I have been known to throw and break controllers) to the bar (playing darts, foosball etc.) I want to win. I always want to win, it doesn’t matter who I am playing, where, when or what the game is. I will do whatever it takes to win. That’s actually not true, I don’t, or I should say I try not to cheat. I hate cheaters even more than I hate losing. I have long claimed to my girlfriend (who has experienced my ass-holed-ness in trivial pursuit, which I dominate by the way ahahaha!!) that if every game was based purely on skill that I would never lose. How much of a dickhead am I?? It is for this reason that I hate, or I should say don’t particularly enjoy, dominos. This game is almost purely based on luck and therefore requires no real skill or talent in order to win. I much prefer card games, for despite every game’s dependence on “good cards”, there is a skill element involved. Whether it be bluffing, playing the right card at the right time, speed etc., all card games, accept maybe war (which I’ve never lost at by the way) aren’t purely luck based.

So, if the games I enjoy playing are skill games, and if I am extremely competitive, then there comes a point in every game where I totally lose myself and can think of nothing but winning the game. This has disastrous consequences for my personality and for the people I am playing with or against. For example: while in high school I would play College Football on PlayStation against my friends for hours and hours almost every day after school. I am not lying or bending the truth when I say that I was better than all of my friends in this particular game. I barely ever lost, but when I did, it was not a pretty sight. My good friend Alex Schulten can attest to the repeated shots I gave him in his knees with either my controller or my phone when he would break off a long run, or sack or intercept me. And if I ever happened to lose, I would be in a bad mood the rest of the night. I don’t even want to get into my mariokart/mariotennis debacles. How many N64 controllers do I owe you Burch? But its not always bad.

I am at my best and worst when competing. I love the feeling of giving something my all, which sadly rarely extends to areas outside competition. There is nothing that makes me feel more alive, more human than sprinting or diving after a disc. This is experienced in decreased amounts while playing cards or, in last night’s case, playing the “name game”. There are many things about competition that are positive. It often pushes me to the limit of what I am capable of doing, and sometimes further. I love working hard for my teammates and friends, and knowing that I am doing everything in my power to satisfy them. BUT, there is a very dark and negative side to this competitive spirit, which reared its ugly head last night. In short . . . I acted like a total asshole and took what was supposed to be a fun game and turned it into a screaming contest.

The game we played, as mentioned before, is called the “name game”. In this game each competitor writes the name of three famous people/characters etc. on three pieces of small paper. They then fold the pieces in half and place them in a bowl. There are two teams involved in this game, and each team has 1 minute to describe the person on their piece of paper to their group w/o using any words written down. So say I got “tom cruise” I would say: “he starred in top gun as maverick” then someone (if they weren’t a total idiot) would guess tom cruise and then I would pass the bowl to my next teammate in line and they would begin describing their name to the rest of us. So each team has a minute to do this and they go back and forth until all the names have been used. Each team tallies up the number of names they got, and then places all the names back into the bowl and you begin round two. In round two, you can only use one word and charades to describe the person/character written on the paper, but because the name was already guessed in the last round everyone will hopefully remember it, making it easier. So If I got tom cruise again I would say “maverick” and then begin flying around to trigger the Tom Cruise memory. Get it??? Same rules apply in round two as in round one with each team going at 1 minute intervals until all the names are guessed. In round three, you can’t use any words, only charades, to describe your name. At the end of round three you total up the number of names guessed and whoever has more wins. Pretty simple right?? Well while I was explaining the rules of the game, a number of members on the other team, who had never played before, weren’t paying close enough attention, which led to their misunderstanding of the rules when we got into it. Needless to say, I lost it. I was swearing, screaming and accusing them of cheating nearly every round. No doubt a large reason for this outburst was that my brother was on the opposing team and as anyone who has older siblings can attest to, there is no greater satisfaction than their systematic defeat. But after the game was over (which we did win by the way . . . making a staggering comeback in round three) I was left to ponder my own competitive nature and general prick-ness.

Why the fuck do I care so much about games like that?? Why can’t I just have fun, and enjoy the company of the people I am playing with and against. Obviously in order for games like the one described above to work, people need to try; they need to be competitive. But there is a line that shouldn’t be crossed, and it was this line that I pretty much raped and pillaged. I was an asshole and spent the rest of the night feeling like one. I know that it’s in my personality to desire victory, due in no small amount to my position as the youngest of four athletic, intelligent, competitive brothers. Many a fight has broken out between us whether on the basketball court or the card table. Why do I take this shit so seriously, what about winning or being the best obsesses me so? This doesn’t extend to every area of my life which is interesting. For example, I could give a shit if you get a better grade on the test than I did. I am unfazed. But if there is direct competition b/w you and me, believe that I will do whatever I can to win, and that if I do you’ll hear about it for a while. And if I do happen to lose, I will pout like a little schoolgirl and make excuses as to my demise. A certain pair of Wii boxing match’s highlights these two different states of mind. After beating my buddy Norm I was all gloat and triumph. Yet upon getting destroyed by the lady who was working in the tent, I was pissed (she was a girl after all) and made excuses about how she had more practice etc.

The bottom line is that I am an asshole when it comes to certain competition. I will always love winning and I will always hate losing. I just wish I knew how to do each more graciously. We’ll see. . . .