You Herd Me!: I'll Say It If Nobody Else Will by Colin Cowherd Read Free Book Online Page A

most of it spent observing and then discussing teams and people, I’m going rogue right here: Unbalanced Guy? He’s doing just fine.
    You can have Balanced Guy. I’ll take his miserable brother, otherwise known as “Fully Committed to Something.” You’ll recognize him if you see him. He’s the one always hanging out with another unbalanced guy—“You Get One Shot at This Life and I’m Going to Make Something of It.”
    Maybe those guys get home every night and head to the nearest sofa, where they dive headfirst, bury themselves in designer throw pillows, and sob for hours.
    Or maybe they don’t.
    Maybe through intense competition on the climb to the top of their fields, they’ve grown accustomed to—but not comfortable with—the occasional defeat and are resilient enough that the kind of day-to-day problems that derail most people are treated as welcome challenges.
    Here’s a question for every therapist who preaches balance: Would you prefer balance from the quarterback of your favorite NFL team? You know, the guy who might have had a better game if he hadn’t spent several hours that week on his new whittling exhibit? If you’re a therapist in Dallas and a Cowboys’ season-ticket holder, would you prefer Tony Romo to skip practice today to work on his recently acquired interest in the violin?
    Nobody is suggesting that staring at a computer screen all day is a recipe for eternal bliss. Nobody is suggesting you ignore your kids, never take a vacation, and treat your spouse like an employee. Nobody is saying that having the Unabomber’s social life is the way to go.
    But look around. You’ll see a pattern.
    As author Scott H. Young writes, “Almost everything meaningful is accomplished by a megalomaniac on a mission. Balance is static, it’s the opposite of change and growth. Obsession, not balance, makes things happen.”
    Isn’t it reasonable, then, to assume that many people or groups who create everything from transcendent technological advances to small landscaping companies gain a level of self-worth that wouldn’t have been possible without some level of obsession?
    Unless you’re reading this book in Yellowstone National Park, look around right now. What do you see—a computer, a house, a nice clock, dual-pane windows? You think Balanced Guy made all those things happen? And if you acknowledge that Unbalanced Guy was the driving force behind them, don’t you think he gained something emotionally from his creations?
    In sports, teams are constantly asking for more from you, the fan. Rising ticket prices, PSLs, $9 beers, DirecTV packages to watch games—they’re on a mission to separate you from your discretionary income. Given that, isn’t it perfectly fine for you to ask for something in return, like a greater and more serious commitment from the athletes and coaches your team employs?
    For one thing, it pays off. Longtime NFL scout Gary Horton told me the hardest-working coach he ever met was Bill Belichick. Upon being hired to coach the Cleveland Browns, Belichick gathered every scout in a room and broke down what he wanted from a nose tackle should the Browns ever draft one.
    This nose-tackle meeting took more than four hours.
    Horton said Ravens general manager Ozzie Newsome, maybe the league’s most respected talent evaluator, has a relentless work ethic. Newsome arrives at the office every morning in the off-season to watch tapes of college players, many of whom the Ravens have no chance of landing.
    Maybe it’s just a vicious cycle, and we’re all to blame for the unbalance in our lives. We pay more, therefore we demand more and we’re all miserable in the process. Is that how it works? Maybe an 8-8 team makes the world a happier and more balanced place, enough wins to bring me—the fan—back, but not so many wins that the coaching staff won’t take that extra weekend off.
    But what are the sports stories we want to hear? From mylengthy experience in the field, I’ve got a