Not to beat a dead (high?) horse but by way of another example, perhaps ...
I used to be in great shape (I am now verging on being "fat and bald") and
ran with the junior varsity cross country team. I was no great feature of
the team and did my best to avoid hurling my lunch during practice every
day. I took the "No Pain" part of the "No Pain, No Gain" formula if you
know what I mean.
One day we were running short "loops" to improve our endurance. It was hot
as hell. We ran along an abandoned railway bed (no ties or tracks, just
cinder and ash), down a hill, around, and back up again to where we start.
It sucked big time. It was hot. I was doing what I had to stay with the
pack. I hated it. After about the third or fourth repetition (of the
twenty we were slated to do) the assistant coach comes up to me and lets me
have it.
"What the hell are you doing?" More harangue, accusations of being a slouch,
not trying hard enough, just marking time, etc., etc. He was pretty harsh.
I was taken aback (he was always a really nice guy to me), humiliated
(jeeze, the whole team heard him), insulted, and enraged. How dare he
accuse me of being a lazy no good so and so. I'll show him that I'm giving
my all...
So on the next time around, I ran like my life depended on it. I just knew
that by the time I got to the bottom of the big hill for the climb back to
the start I would be so tired I would be hurling my guts in the bushes and
everyone would see that he was being mean, rude, inconsiderate, and just
plain evil.
It was not to be. I left the rest of the team behind. Permanently. I made
it back to the start alone, in front of the group by a wide margin, and felt
no worse than I ever had taking it easy. I discovered that his abuse had
resulted in the realization that I could do better than I had ever expected
from myself. That was the last day I ran J.V. The next week I was moved to
the Varsity team where I stayed for the next four years. When I graduated
high school, the team had been undefeated for the entire time (and in fact
that was the twelfth year undefeated). I had taken turns with two other
guys on our team to win every race we ran, was ranked 12th in the state
(Massachusetts) and got an athletic scholarship to Berkeley (I didn't go but
that is another story).
The nerve of that coach, insulting me, humiliating me, and for being so
evil... Why couldn't he have just been nice? (Jim, if you are out there,
thanks for being such a bastard that day.)
I think the parallel is obvious here. We live in such a politically correct
society today, that any cross word is grounds for war. I can't say that I
condone rudeness and insensitivity but I do think directness and straight
talk far outweighs pussyfooting around.
I received great benefit from that harsh but well-deserved assault. Had
that coach not taken the interest in showing me my own potential, I can't
even say where I might be today. Still doing just enough so I don't risk a
good puke in the bushes? Probably.
I think the decision to ditch the PUG commentary is premature. Perhaps is
should be sent to the recipient and they can decide if they wish to share it
with the group, although that would diminish its value for the rest of us,
it would "protect" the meek.
Paul M. Provencher
http://whitemetal.com
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