Confessions of a perfectionist
A spot of character examination reveals the dark side of perfectionism
I confess it: I’m mildly addicted. I love to play, watch, read about, think about, eat, drink and sleep football. Of course there are worse things to be addicted to (alcohol, drugs, rugby) but that’s not really the issue. My dirty secret is that I lack any awareness, vision, touch or passing ability on the field. So why am I still in the team?
A lack of viable alternatives aside, the main reason is that I give everything every game. I shout until I’m hoarse, run to the point of asthma and tackle, legs flailing madly, anything moving in my vicinity. Anyone who’s seen either Momo Sissoko or a horse on roller skates play football will have an idea of the kind of player I am.
A night in, aligning bullet points...
My point is that I am very, very competitive. I like to do things well, and I like to win. I also find it hard to accept that people are better than me at doing things. Football is one thing, but sadly this continues in real life. I had to do a group presentation recently, and it took a conscious effort to stop me doing everything myself. I wanted the font as I’d imagined and the pictures just so. I spent hours aligning bullet points to an obsessive degree of accuracy for nobody’s satisfaction but my own.
Opting out
Worse, when it comes to trying new things, if I don’t perceive myself as being good at them right away, I often give up. I go not just by the saying “If something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well”, but also the reverse “If something can’t be done well, it’s not worth doing”. It’s easier to look like I’m not trying than face the awful truth of failure.
It gets worse when we examine the roots of competitiveness. I see it as a complicated emotion: some pride, a teaspoon of vanity and a pinch of envy. Not particularly desirable characteristics and certainly not ones I’d like to be described as having.
A bit of perspective
When you look at the big picture, what really matters? What is worth the gut-busting, lung-burning, acid-veined effort? Getting to the ball first? When I think about it in perspective, it doesn’t stop me trying hard while playing football, just reminds me to put the same effort into things I really care about.
Superhumans are boring
Competitiveness is all about striving for unobtainable perfection. As part of my obsession, I used to play a lot of the computer game “Football Manager”. In the game you take the role of manager and lead your team to glory. At home I have an older version of the game and if I play it now, I know which players to buy: Everton’s 15-year old Wayne Rooney, or a young Ronaldinho still playing for Paris... Furthermore, if I want to I can cheat and change all the statistics stored for the players, giving the Manchester United squad superhuman strength, Olympic-standard pace or unerring accuracy when shooting. I played a game when I did all this and do you know what: I learnt that it’s boring to win every game 10-0.
What makes us interesting as people are the little features unique to us: our frailties, not our strengths. It seems perfection isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Written by John Cameron. Posted on 7th May.
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