Of all of the sports that punctuate my life and my sentence, the Superbowl is right up there. It’s one of the few things that is still available for me to watch live in prison. For over twenty five years I have been predicting the winner, explaining how I came to my decision to my disinterested best mate. I have been remarkably consistent – in all but two years I have gotten it wrong! But in 2021 at Superbowl 55 I was rooting for Tom Brady and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers (despite their being owned by the Glaziers that own Manchester United – see how open minded prison has made me?) and I am delighted that I got this one right.
As I sat in my cell at about 3AM I couldn’t help but marvel at Brady’s achievement – his is an unparalleled example of making the very best of oneself. There are arguably more talented players out there, but Brady’s single minded determination, diligence and detail orientation have set him apart as not just one of the greatest in his sport – but one of the greatest athletes of all time – a modern day champion like Achilles or Perseus. After the game, when Brady was embraced by his Supermodel wife Giselle and his children I couldn’t help but think of a George Best story.
In 1970’s Belfast, a hotel employee was delivering room service – a bottle of champagne to a VIP guest. When he knocked at the door he was greeted by George Best – one of the most talented footballers of all time. As the waiter was ushered in to the room he saw the then Miss UK draped across the bed, wearing nothing but thousands of pounds in cash. While George Best was sorting out a tip for the service, the waiter sighed and asked him, “George. Where did it all go wrong?”
As I compared and contrasted Tom and George I drew comparisons with my own life. Whatever talents I had been gifted at birth, I had wasted. This was not new to me, I have often regretted the things that I haven’t achieved and the mistakes I have made. But rather than take action to change things, I have merely lamented the opportunities that have passed – I never learned the lessons.
I was such a frustration to teachers, employers, friends and colleagues. I would show flashes of what I could do before screwing up royally – and not just making an honest mistake. No, I would baffle people by ditching the project or by blowing up all of my previous efforts.
Now here’s where my new insight comes in, I have come to realise why I blew things off so easily – I used to self-sabotage. I would have a great idea or approach a new task with gusto and determination. I would show the problem solving skills and initiative that got people excited, but I would never see things through. I might cite boredom, claiming that I wanted to do something new. Whenever I binned off a task, I would convince myself that it hadn’t really mattered to me in the first place, that there would be plenty of other opportunities in the future. I could have seen it through if I really wanted to. God I was a twat.
I understand now that I was merely managing expectations. I was afraid of failing and being a disappointment to people. So in my twisted logic I would quit before finishing and take control of the situation – I knew people would be disappointed, but it was what I expected. I was terrified of what would happen if I had tried my best and still let people down. That would have shaken my beliefs – that I could complete the things that really mattered to me. In my life I was far closer to George Best than Brady. Like George, when I was struggling to maintain my illusions and delusions I used alcohol to block out my demons and anxieties.
Rather than work towards my own betterment, in the past I have begrudged people their successes, resented their achievements and belittled their efforts. I guess it was my mechanism for avoiding self scrutiny and questioning my own life to closely. However, this year, as I watched Tom Brady I realised that I now have a profoundly different outlook on life. Instead of feeling sorry for myself and all that has passed me by, I have let it go. I am focused on the things that I can still achieve.
In prison I have built self-esteem. I am no longer paralysed by a fear of mistakes – instead I work diligently and draw the lessons from sub-optimal outcomes. I set myself clearly defined, SMART[1] goals. When I start something I finish it – even if I’m pissed off or bored in the latter stages I see it through. My addiction to failure has been supplanted by an addiction to success. God I’m a sucker for a certificate! The more I get, the more I want – and the old Level 2 and 3 qualifications just aren’t cutting it anymore!
Tom Brady is no longer a target for resentment – he’s an inspiration. Mr Brady is no longer a reminder of what I haven’t achieved. There is no point in comparing myself to him. Instead I draw comparisons between the various versions of myself, determined to be a better man than the man I was yesterday, then be better tomorrow than I am today.
[1] Mnemonic – Specific Measurable Achievable Rewarding Time-constrained goals.
