Keeping Our Expectations in Perspective When Others Don’t
A man by a TV in Sea-Tac terminal watched Tiger Woods leading the final round of the PGA tournament. He hoped Tiger would lose. “Why,” I asked.
“The announcers treat him like God.”
He never criticized Tiger, who’d won thirty-five of thirty-six tournaments when leading on the final round, including eleven of eleven majors like the PGA.
He criticized announcers who talked as if Tiger’s victory was inevitable – he drives farther, reaches the green when few others could, and sinks pressure putts. Before the tournament, someone reminded the press that he was a human, after which a voice shouted, “Almost.”
The irked stranger wanted the announcers to lose, so he wanted Tiger to lose that day. He was angry because adoration of Tiger the golfer diminishes all men who already know they are lesser players.
Tiger lost. Y. E. Yang won. He’s a 37-year-old, 5-foot-9-nine inch human who was self-taught until 18 months ago. Tiger towered over him as they played alongside each other, but he outplayed Tiger by five strokes to win.
Tiger’s inevitable loss surprised the broadcasters on the Golf Channel. They focused on why Tiger lost, such as, “Did he choke?” They reviewed his approach shots and putts. After considering several definitions of choking, they concluded he didn’t choke. Finally one of the analysts said, “Yang won it, let’s give him credit.”
Their refusal to admit they had too high expectations rewarded the satisfied stranger’s desire for them to lose. They idealized Tiger, whose win would confirm their skills as analysts. They ignored Leo Buscaglia’s warning, “Never idealize others. They will never live up to your expectations.”
Tiger answered questions with insight and composure in the post-tournament interview. He put himself in a position to win. His idol is Jack Nicklaus, who holds the record for winning second place 19 times. Tiger reaffirmed his decision to leave the tour for 18 months to recover from a knee replacement. And he is pleased with his progress since he returned this year.
His responses raise our esteem for him, and convert us to fans. He has that rare ability to handle the pressure of unreasonable expectations. Appreciating the expectations of others while keeping your own intact at a time of great disappointment makes him one of life’s great winners. Tiger doesn’t seem to fail at that very often, which is his most impressive performance.
Adjusting my expectations playing tennis is tough for me. After my tennis partners pound me into submission, I have trouble being civil to my wife’s question, “How was tennis today?”
I want to play well, but more important is staying positive about my progress and my friendships in the healthy activity.
The stranger undoubtedly considers himself a good man, but fails at times like the announcers, Tiger, and all humans. He just wanted the announcers to experience it.
We needn’t be too hard on anyone, though. Samuel Johnson said, “As I know more of mankind I expect less of them, and am ready now to call a man a good man, upon easier terms than I was formerly.”
“The announcers treat him like God.”
He never criticized Tiger, who’d won thirty-five of thirty-six tournaments when leading on the final round, including eleven of eleven majors like the PGA.
He criticized announcers who talked as if Tiger’s victory was inevitable – he drives farther, reaches the green when few others could, and sinks pressure putts. Before the tournament, someone reminded the press that he was a human, after which a voice shouted, “Almost.”
The irked stranger wanted the announcers to lose, so he wanted Tiger to lose that day. He was angry because adoration of Tiger the golfer diminishes all men who already know they are lesser players.
Tiger lost. Y. E. Yang won. He’s a 37-year-old, 5-foot-9-nine inch human who was self-taught until 18 months ago. Tiger towered over him as they played alongside each other, but he outplayed Tiger by five strokes to win.
Tiger’s inevitable loss surprised the broadcasters on the Golf Channel. They focused on why Tiger lost, such as, “Did he choke?” They reviewed his approach shots and putts. After considering several definitions of choking, they concluded he didn’t choke. Finally one of the analysts said, “Yang won it, let’s give him credit.”
Their refusal to admit they had too high expectations rewarded the satisfied stranger’s desire for them to lose. They idealized Tiger, whose win would confirm their skills as analysts. They ignored Leo Buscaglia’s warning, “Never idealize others. They will never live up to your expectations.”
Tiger answered questions with insight and composure in the post-tournament interview. He put himself in a position to win. His idol is Jack Nicklaus, who holds the record for winning second place 19 times. Tiger reaffirmed his decision to leave the tour for 18 months to recover from a knee replacement. And he is pleased with his progress since he returned this year.
His responses raise our esteem for him, and convert us to fans. He has that rare ability to handle the pressure of unreasonable expectations. Appreciating the expectations of others while keeping your own intact at a time of great disappointment makes him one of life’s great winners. Tiger doesn’t seem to fail at that very often, which is his most impressive performance.
Adjusting my expectations playing tennis is tough for me. After my tennis partners pound me into submission, I have trouble being civil to my wife’s question, “How was tennis today?”
I want to play well, but more important is staying positive about my progress and my friendships in the healthy activity.
The stranger undoubtedly considers himself a good man, but fails at times like the announcers, Tiger, and all humans. He just wanted the announcers to experience it.
We needn’t be too hard on anyone, though. Samuel Johnson said, “As I know more of mankind I expect less of them, and am ready now to call a man a good man, upon easier terms than I was formerly.”


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