No One Clapped

I attended my first LPGA tournament this past weekend. Usually, I watch the ladies play on TV, but I had a motive to watch in person: I wanted to watch Lexi Thompson play.

My analytical side wanted to observe how Lexi managed the course and watch her swing tempo. However, my takeaway was a much different outcome than I expected.

My husband and I were following Lexi's group, which included fellow golfers Sarah Kemp and Hyo Joo Kim. When we caught up with the three-some mid-Sunday morning, Kim led the tournament by eleven strokes. Kemp and Lexi were 6 under.

Each shot was carefully crafted and thought out: What club? How far? Where will the ball land? How will that set me up for the next shot or putt? This ongoing strategic session was fascinating to watch.

Lexi got herself into a few sticky situations. As I watched her strategize how to course-correct and set the next shot up for success, I learned I would have done it differently. And I would have bogeyed, if I was lucky, the hole when she, in fact, parred.

Her ability to strategically navigate the course was astounding.

However, I'm not looking to be a sports writer but to share this unintended experience from watching this group compete for first place. We are on hole thirteen, a par 4, and the ladies are at their ball setting up their second shot. Lexi went left of the fairway and was in the rough. Kim is in the dead center of the fairway, and Kemp is on the right side of the fairway.

Kemp is furthest away, so she takes her second shot. It was a good shot, landing on the green. Kim takes her shot, landing on the green. Lexi takes her shot, strategically putting her ball back in the fairway to set up the next shot.

Now, let me tell you what didn't happen: Lexi's second shot was met with applause, Kim's second shot was met with applause, and Kemp's second shot was met with silence, not a single clap.

Kemp's shot was good, and the crowd was silent- not a whisper or a soft golf clap.

The silence was noticeable enough that I told my husband, "No one clapped for Kemp." His response, half jokingly, was, "We only clap for excellence."

Are we so conditioned to "good" that we only clap for excellence?

I felt it.

I see this same story play out at work—this constant need for a fantastic shot or the unicorn business idea. The idea that we have to produce something that will soliciate applause or we are losers.

Creating a solid strategy, staying focused on your environment, making necessary adjustments, and managing the course will produce a win with much less anxiety or dependence on external approval. After all, isn't this what the "great" organizations do? They plan, take calculated risks, have grit, and stay the course. We certainly talk about this concept in countless meetings, but there sometimes is the one kink in the link that leads from fear and has to have the big production seeking the most applause. In my experience, this idea of only striving for the big win is the most significant factor in adverse outcomes. We miss many opportunities if we only focus on the big win. Those missed opportunities are the small victories that collectively achieve the win.

Kemp is a good golfer. Her conservative game earned her fourth place in the tournament. But steady and conservative play does not earn applause. We want to see the fantastic and the excellent shots.

At the end of the day, Kemp took home a pretty nice paycheck (93K+). Who's clapping now?