Let me preface this piece for all the trolls who planned to skim the first paragraph, skip Go and proceed directly to the comment section to berate my insensitivity of mental illness. Barring a legitimate screw loose a la our favorite Malice in the Palace-r, Ron Artest, I’m not buying the “competitive illness” school of thought. Jason Dufner makes some pretty, pretttay, pretty good points …
Young professionals and college kids could learn a thing or two from Grayson Allen … and it’s not that they should do the exact opposite. Sorry mom.
While you were listening to Baby Einstein, Grayson was crawling suicides and learning how to trip people from his favorite scene in Big Daddy. While you were having mommy push you in a swing he was hustling 5th graders for lunch money in HORSE. Simply put, this wasn’t his first competitive outburst.
The very “it” factor that makes him the most hated man on the most hated team in sports is the very same reason he’s going to be driving a Porsche while you’re stuck rolling out of your mom’s basement in a leased Hyundai. When he learns how to harnesse that power he’s going to be unstoppable at whatever he does. Which probably won’t be basketball for the record.
Maybe, just maybe, if you started to look under the hood of these fanatical minds instead of hiding under your blankie, you wouldn’t be as soft as baby shit.
Release the Kraken
If you were even 1/4 as passionate about anything in your life as Allen is about winning EVERY SINGLE GAME, you’d be on the Executive track, more spring break ready than the Rock and more well read than Steven Fucking Hawkins. But you’re not.
Your mommy, your teachers and your therapist have always told you to calm down, use your inside voice, take your Xanax. You aren’t going to stand out from the crowd by getting in line, waiting for that promotion and not disrupting a thing or two along the way.
TO-DO: Spark an out of control dumpster fire in your belly that would make Smoky the Bear call 911. Use whatever it is that motivates you as gasoline to will the fire bigger than your closest competitors inner passion will ever be. Throw those deep, dark, repressed memories of Sally Jones breaking up with you in the 3rd grade right on top. Use getting cut from the chess team in high school as kindling. And throw that propane tank that is your passion for your dream right into the middle of the inferno.
Control the Kraken
Sure Allen’s behavior is borderline schizophrenic NOW. But when he reads a few Tim Ferriss books, eats a big slice of humble pie and learns how to tame that fire in his belly, he’s going to be unstoppable. I’m talking best accountant at the firm, greatest neurosurgeon at the hospital and illest Tinder profile in the tri-state area. Of course, he can’t go through life pushing anyone who gets in his way into traffic. But once he learns to corral the runaway train he’s going to be an unstoppable force of nature. Standing out among the crowd isn’t always going to be looked upon favorably by the crowd. But once you can control that passion pit you’ll be able to deliver it with the precision of a goddamn fireball delivered from Mario’s inner furnace.
You’ll be a shark among piranhas in the corporate world.
TO-DO: Now that your inner belly fire has turned into a 5 alarm blaze threatening everyone in your path, you need to be the one to wrangle it. Make a goal that fires you the fuck up. See: Winning every game. Use this fine nozzled Vietnam era flamethrower to eradicate any barriers in your way. Once you have an enemy in mind, harness this unparalleled sniper like power to hone in on whatever it is that you want to own in life.
Like any fire, make sure to add fuel every second of every day whether it’s crossing victims off that to-do list, auditing your success or mainlining Aloe Blacc while you’re finishing your University of Phoenix assignments …
Don’t worry, we didn’t forget about you, ladies …