The Only Question that Really Matters in Life

My son plays wide receiver for a small town high school football team in the heart of the South where football is more than a game – it’s a religion. Friday nights under the lights are sacred; and, in this cathedral of sport, few things are worse than going into a game knowing that your chances of winning are slim to none. (Listen to this article here)

But that was how the stage was set for what we call the Backyard Brawl: The traditional first game of the season between our school and a rival just across the county line.

Years ago when this rivalry was first conceived the game was an even match. But over time, economic expansion in the county next door helped our rival school grow in size. With that growth, they gained more resources, funding, and players and even moved into a more competitive region. Their facilities are beautiful and their crowd of fans large. This inequity has been a major contributor to our six straight Backyard Brawl losses.

As our small contingent of parents entered their stadium on Friday night and walked across the manicured field and past our rival’s huge crowd, there was little hope to lift us up. We knew and they knew what the outcome of this game would be. So we settled in for our traditional beating and prepared for the after game clichés and platitudes we’d use to lift the spirits of our sons.

At mid-field the opposing team towered above our boys. Taller, bigger, faster, stronger and there were many more of them compared to our limited bench. It was intimidating. A casual observer comparing the two teams would quickly conclude that our team had no chance of winning.

The whistle blew and on the first series of downs they stopped us dead in our tracks. The parents sighed and the team punted. On the next set of downs the other team began systematically advancing towards our end zone. That’s when our coach started screaming from the sideline: “How bad do you want it boys? How bad do you want it?”

Then we slowed them down, then we stopped them, then we forced a punt. It was a stunning, unexpected moment for both teams and a payoff for three solid months of planning, practice, and focus directed at this one moment of truth. The turning point when our young men truly believed that they could play head to head against their much larger rivals and not get pushed around.

Our players and coaches had invested endless hours viewing film. They worked harder and pushed harder than ever before in brutal practices. Coach Bo, our head coach, took them to watch the other team play in the pre-season and showed them where they were weak. And there were the infamous sled drills. Coach Bo prepared his players to win mentally by making them push a heavy sled, laden with the extra weight of the entire coaching staff, six times a day. Six times for each of the six previous losses! Pushing the sled was awful and grueling and designed to harden them mentally. Coach Bo knew that when the team got to their breaking point nothing they faced would be worse than pushing that sled; and, of course, the thought of adding a seventh rep if they lost was unbearable.

Our underdogs turned it on and battled their goliath adversaries as equals. Time and time again we stopped them. Tackles behind the line, balls batted down on passes that would have been touch downs, sacks that made the pocket a dangerous place, and punts that pinned them back to their end zone. With each stop the refrain, “how bad do you want it?” gained more meaning.

Everything the other team poured at us we some how, some way, and improbably stopped. Then we scored. Our running back scrambled, broke tackles, and managed to stay on his feet. Out in front of him our blockers threw themselves at the defenders. As he dove across the goal line a roar erupted from our stands. We’d drawn first blood.

The other team was stunned. It was not supposed to happen this way. Beating our team had become so routine that they’d checked the win column on their schedule before the game even started. Their fans fell silent as their players, heads hung low, limped off the field to the locker room at the half.

Our boys, who were playing both sides of the ball, sprinted off the field. Their bodies were exhausted and the steaming South Georgia heat had taken its toll, but mentally they were on fire. They wanted it.

On the opening play of the second half the other team caught a break on a missed tackle and took the ball all the way down to our five-yard line. It appeared that they’d regrouped and reenergized at halftime. But our boys held them in the red zone and we got the ball back on downs. It was unbelievable!

For the next thirty-minutes it was bareknuckle brawl - back and forth and back and forth. They threw everything at us including the kitchen sink. Each time we held the line and pushed them back.

But with just two minutes left on the clock we turned the ball over. In a gut-wrenching final push the other team somehow got a second wind and marched down the field, completing pass after pass. Our boys were past the point of exhaustion. Coach Bo was screaming from the headlines. “One more play, one more down! How bad do you want it?”

We finally stopped them on third down but the clock refused to die. There was still time for one more play. Fourth down and five seconds left on the clock - the final play of the game with everything on the line.

The suspense was almost unbearable. It was a heart stopper. Five seconds on the clock. One shot to get into the end zone. “How bad do you want it boys? How bad do you want it?”

From our 15 yard line the ball was snapped and that’s when everything shifted into slow motion . . . Their quarterback stepped back into the pocket, searching desperately for an open receiver. Then he cocked his arm and hurled the ball into the air towards the corner of the end zone. The ball seemed to float for an eternity. Their star receiver leaped high, his fingertips reaching and grasping for the perfectly thrown pass. Our outgunned defender scrambled, frantically trying to knock it loose.

For one still second there was silence in the stands. Everything stopped. It looked as if their receiver would come down with the ball. I could hear Coach Bo’s words echoing in my head: “How bad do you want it boys? How bad do you want it?”

Our defender reached for the ball, stretching him self to the very limit. With one final push he connected and tipped the ball out of the receiver’s hands. It dropped uncaught onto grass in the back of the end zone and as it rolled to a stop, there was a sudden, deafening realization that we had won! Then there was bedlam. We screamed and danced and hugged and congratulated. Our boys had done the impossible. They had won the backyard brawl.

In your life there will always be somebody, something intimidating, a competitor, or some problem that is bigger, faster, stronger, or smarter than you. There will always be a mountain you’ll have to climb and an uphill battle you’ll have to fight to reach your goal.

The Briarwood Buccaneers proved, once again, what great teams and great people have always known:

When you are faced with a challenge or when the game in on the line it is not about how big you are, how strong, how much training, resources, experience, background, degrees, talent, intelligence, money or any of the other things that far too often become excuses that hold you back.

The only question that really matters when you face your Goliath is:

How bad do you want it?

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Jeb Blount advises many of the world’s leading organizations and their executives on the impact of emotional intelligence and interpersonal skills on customer experience, strategic account management, sales, and developing high-performing sales teams. He speaks to and delivers training to high-performing sales teams across the globe. He was recently listed among the world’s 50 Most Influential Sales and Marketing Leaders and named one of the World’s Top 30 Social Selling Influencers. Jeb is the author of six books including People Follow YOU: The Real Secret to What Matters Most in Leadership. Contact Jeb at [email protected], call 1-888-360-2249 or visit https://www.salesgravy.com