Super Bowl Champion and legendary New York Giants wide receiver, Amani Toomer once remarked "you've never seen a realistic movie about football and you won't." With famous flicks like Rudy, Return of the Titans, and Invincible, fans might find this hard to believe. Toomer noted however, "so much of what happens in football is mundane. It's technical and it's boring." From pre-game prep to the post game press room—sitting in the ice bath, getting taped, studying and learning plays, watching film...and more film it's not exciting. And that doesn't translate to what you typically see on the screen."
Toomer is right. What we—the fans see are the epic passes, incredible catches, and skilled blocks. We hold memories of coaches yelling, screaming, and crying or players getting wheeled off the field with a brutal injury. We see a lot in football. The game translates to the television and big screens quite well, but the one thing we seldom see is drudgery. And, I think that is too bad. Here's why: in order to be great, a person must live with drudgery. There is no one who has succeeded without a high capacity for it. Those who embrace drudgery are on a path to excellence. Such is a lesson from and in sports and spirituality.
What is drudgery?
Drudgery is hard monotonous routine work. It is not pleasant. These highly repetitive tasks, are unavoidable or necessary for achieving a goal. I am entertained by the list of synonyms associated with drudgery; they include donkeywork, grind, plodding. labor, toil and more.
People know drudgery because it is part and parcel of the human experience. I've never agreed with the axiom: "choose a job you love and you'll never work a day in your life." Why? Because every job, has its own form of drudgery. That's why we call it labor. It's why we have breaks and holidays, vacations and sabbaticals. We want time to ourselves and away. We desire a break from the drudge. Labor Day isn't far away...
But drudgery isn't an end in itself. The hard, monotonous repetition of a skill or drill can makes for a habit. Ideally, it's a good habit. A task can become second nature and performed successfully under pressure. Sports offers many examples; athletes know drudgery. As a golfer, I know that the relentless practice of drills and short game work leads to improvement. I think about ball striking and work on my iron play, my distance off of the tee and the game from 100 yards in. There's always something. How much I commit to these tasks is up to me. It's not fun but it's also not boring. It can however be a form of drudgery.
I have to link the video because the NFL has to protect its content. |
I love seeing #85 run drills and lift heavy weights (he squats 405 lbs). The snapshot into his daily grind was set to music and was so inspiring. But, real work is not a highlight reel. It doesn't get amplified by the right song at the right time. At the end of the day, it's a lot of work. The body gets tired and the mind grows weary or restless. Enter in drudgery. So why put up with it?
Sally Jenkins, Washington Post sportswriter and the author of The Right Call: What Sports Teach Us About Work and Life provides an answer. She met Michael Phelps—the most decorated Olympic athlete of all time at the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens and came to realize
But what made Phelps truly great, I learned in conversation with him, was his embrace of absolutely drudgery. Phelps’s easy rhythm in the water was as much a matter of mental conditioning as physical, the result of years of metronomic laps like musical scales. Practice laps were tedious, but they induced a psychological blankness that Phelps, who struggled with ADHD and anxiety, found relieving.
In the water there were no other problems, no complications, no other responsibilities than to focus on stroke technique and burn rate. That is what allowed him to regulate his pulse and control the messaging system between his body and his brain.
“Let’s talk about neuroscience,” I said to Phelps, one day.
“Uh-oh,” he said, laughing.
“Are you thinking during a race?” I asked.
“No.”
“Do you count?”
“Count what?”
"Strokes. Laps."
“I mean, I can tell you exactly how fast I’m going because of feel.”
That ingrained rhythm gave him a nerveless confidence in races, he said.
“When I’m racing,” Phelps continued, “I just get in the water and do whatever I’ve done in workouts.”
The physical and mental repetition. The staring at a black line for hours on end and moving one's body from one end of the pool to the other—sounds pretty boring. It's also what leads to the victory podium and the Olympic gold.
Prayer can be drudgery as well. Even Mother Teresa struggled to hear God's voice. Her prayer life was for many years but a desert. And yet, she never gave up. Some people love the repetition of the Rosary, others find it rote and tedious. Prayer is however the building block toward a relationship with God. Father John Bartunek has written that, "The essence of prayer is relationship. It's not primarily about doing something but about getting to know someone. That someone is God and you." Both parties seem well worth the effort of getting to know! Not a bad reason to embrace the drudge.
I encourage you to consider what you are not seeing as you enjoy the Paris Olympics. By all means, delight in the fruit of the labor of the men and women who have spent at least 10,000 hours working at their sport. You are seeing the dominance of a few athletes, the direction from their coaches and display of their gifts and talents.... none of the drudgery. All are to be celebrated.
Photo Credits
Phelps Medals
Come be My Light
Kittle
Athens
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