How I Found My Love for Football, and it Sounds Like Tebow
Over the last few months, I've heard more than once something along the lines of "I never thought I'd hear you care about a football game." Yeah, I know. Neither did I. And most of the time I answer with something like "Hey, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em." This is partly true, but there's a lot more to it.
When you live with someone who loves football as much as Erick does, you can't help but absorb some of it. Back when Tebow still played for Florida, he caught my attention a little bit, mostly because when asked why they lost a game, he came up with a speech on the spot that was so inspirational that the college ended up engraving it on a plaque and mounting it in the team locker room. The best part: "I promise you one thing, a lot of good will come out of this. You will never see any player in the entire country play as hard as I will play the rest of the season. You will never see someone push the rest of the team as hard a I will push everybody the rest of the season. You will never see a team play harder than we will the rest of the season, I can guarantee you that." They went on to win the championship after that.
Of course, my interest at the time was limited to "Huh, that's cool." Still, when he was drafted to the Broncos, I was at least a little interested to see how he would do in the pros. When he suddenly became the starting quarterback (at age 24) in the middle of a losing season, and then went on to win something like 7 games in a row, I got really interested. How the hell did he manage that?
Sounds maybe a little presumptuous, but I identified with him a little bit. Here's another person who is doing a job at a really young age that he may or may not be ready for, leading a whole huge team of people who are currently very much at a disadvantage, with the hopes that he'll be able to help pull them out of the abyss. Granted, my situation is on a very, very different scale, but still. I'm sort of the Tim Tebow of the OB clinic, with one glaring exception: Tebow is fantastically successful, while I . . . am struggling, heh.
He is doing what I wish I could. He doesn't care what people say about him, win or lose, succeed or fail. He realizes that what he's doing isn't the most important thing in the world, but he still tries as hard as he possibly can to succeed at it. He inspires his whole team and thousands of others, not only to do better, but to believe that they can do better. He has an everlasting optimism that anything is possible, and it's infectious. A lot is made of his religion, and though that might be the reason he was raised to have the values he does, his values are appealing across any religion or beliefs. (This article says it better than I can.) Tebow is impressive to me, personally and professionally.
When I was hired into this job, it was no secret that the entire purpose of this, as stated to me by the director herself, was to help rejuvenate an entire practice. My job is to reevaluate just about everything we do - question what's "always been done" and look for ways to do it better; to update practices that need to be updated, make sure we're keeping our financial security in mind in ways that we haven't before, and the hardest part: to change an entire culture in the process, even though I am very much the minority (think 1:10) in the culture I'm trying to imbue on others. And also, to do it in a few years, before I leave and get a job as a midwife. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.
I give myself a little slack that I'm not as awesome as Tebow, because let's face it: my job may actually be harder. And I don't say this lightly. Tebow has a team full of professionals that are playing because it's their life's dream, who are likely within a similar age range of 15 years or so, and who are ready to change because they realized that they weren't doing well beforehand. I lead a motley bunch, who vary in age from 20 to 60, some of whom ended up there by happenstance and who have no idea what they want to do with their lives but they know it's not this, who are used to doing things one way and see no reason to change. While I'm not subject to nationwide media (though you might argue otherwise if you've ever heard the grapevine in a clinic full of 50 women . . . ), you might argue I've got a tougher challenge. Then again, you might not, and I wouldn't disagree (much, haha). The point is, whenever things get really tough, I think about Tebow and how he's been able to pull it off, and I feel a little better about what I'm doing. I'm not giving up. I just have to believe that I can do this, and then I will.
I try to remember this now, because when I go back to work on Tuesday, I might be in for a trying day. On Friday afternoon, I fired my first employee. It was done quietly, without any announcement or without her saying goodbye to anyone, and I simply removed her from the schedule and sent out a revised version to everyone. No one noticed by the time I left on Friday, but I guarantee you that on Tuesday, there's going to be a lot of questions that I won't be able to answer. It's going to send a very strong message to everyone, and I'll be interested to see whether things improve from there. I hope it does, because I don't want to have to do it again. It was a little bit harrowing, to know exactly how badly it might affect someone (and their children) and to have to do it anyway. It seems a bit like how a parent might feel who has to discipline their child, except "discipline" doesn't generally mean cutting off their means of living as well as their healthcare benefits. This is all for the best . . . right?
Anyway . . . despite the fact that the Broncos' season is over now, I'll be interested to see how they do again next year. Because if there's one thing I took from Tebow, it's that it doesn't matter what's happened in the past - you just try harder and try again until you get it right. Maybe by this time next year, I'll be just as awesome as he is. =D