REFLECTION
Nine of my 10 Super Bowls came down to the fourth quarter; the outcome decided by one score or turned on one play. I think about being in the huddle on those decisive drives, and I can picture the faces of the other ten guys standing there with me in each of those huddles.
What was it about those men? Why were we the guys out on the field in the last fifteen minutes, with the game on the line, trying to come through for the team like nothing else in the world mattered more? What had we done, what choices had we made, to land us there?
A few of those guys were destined for moments like these. They were uniquely talented, physically gifted athletes who were undeniable. They were unicorns. Guys like Randy Moss and Rob Gronkowski come to mind. The rest of us—we weren’t the fastest or the strongest, the biggest or the smartest, but we shared one important trait: we were obsessed.
With football. With winning. With perfection. With being part of a team. With proving everybody wrong. It didn’t matter.
There were probably a dozen different obsessions motivating the guys in those huddles, and they produced in each of us the same kind of unstoppable drive to work and compete. Personally, I think we were all there in those big moments together because our obsessions had pulled us there like a magnet, for one reason or another.
There was certainly something inside me that was pulling me toward the choices that lead me to those big moments. Going to Michigan over other schools. Seeking guidance instead of seeking distraction. Drinking blueberry smoothies for breakfast instead of eating blueberry muffins. Watching an extra hour of film instead of watching an extra hour of TV. Working out instead of going out. Rest and recovery over too many commitments.
These types of defining choices were different for every guy in those huddles, but the thing they had in common was that they really didn’t feel like choices at all. I would love to say that I had complete control over all my choices during my football career, but the reality is my obsessions made many of those choices for me. And when the obsession is in control, the choices are easy and obvious—even when the choices involve putting your life on public display and your body at increased risk for physical injury. To the football obsessed, pain, disappointment, embarrassment, anger, and sacrifice is the price you pay for a chance to perform on Sundays and, if you’re lucky, in February.
Looking back, even when I felt like I was in complete command, making conscious and deliberate decisions, many times I was just selecting from a menu that had already been subconsciously curated by the obsessions that were driving me.
LESSON
In my opinion, this is one of the big goals in life. To find your obsessions. Long-term success and excellence in anything requires sacrifice, commitment, hard work and struggle. When you find your obsessions (or when they find you), those tough choices tend to become more obvious. The hard work becomes easier to say yes to. The pain becomes easier to endure. And as a result, you have an advantage over those pursuing similar goals for different reasons.
What you learn as part of a team is that everyone’s obsessions are different. No one cares the same way about the same things as you do. The people around you at school, at work, or on your sports team, are all there for different reasons. Still, if excellence or championships or market dominance is your mission, finding alignment through passion, wherever it comes from, is one of the quickest ways to build momentum toward your mutual objective.
Over the years, I have come to believe that people do things for five reasons which exist on an ascending spectrum of emotional commitment. They do it because 1) they’re getting paid to do it; 2) they’re good at it; 3) they like it; 4) they love it; or 5) they’re obsessed with it.
I played professional football for all five reasons. I was obsessed, I was good at it, I loved the work that went into getting better, I liked being part of a team, and I got paid well for my effort. By comparison, I played with plenty of great guys who were motivated because they were good at football and were getting paid for it. Then there were others whose drive was defined by liking the game because they were good at it, and getting paid was the byproduct.
This isn’t a judgment by any means. I’ve had teammates who were way more obsessed with trucks, anime, fishing, Disney, real estate, their relationship to their faith, you name it, than they ever were with football, and they were still valuable contributors to our team. They were not lesser people because they loved the sport less than I did or “wanted it less” than fans at home thought they should. A lot of those guys were able to support hobbies they loved and take care of their families for generations with the money they made doing something they were good at but weren’t obsessed with.
Who are we to question their choices? Who are we to question the choices of the obsessed for that matter? Why are we so inclined, for instance, to judge Jay Leno and all his cars as a waste of money? Or Sylvester Stallone’s decision to continue acting, producing and writing at the age of 80 as an act of ego or vanity? Why is it that when someone who’s doing what they’re obsessed with hits retirement age or an arbitrary level of wealth or status, so many of us immediately question why they’re still doing it? Still playing, still teaching, still practicing law or fighting or running the restaurant or developing real estate or going on tour.
What’s the point of life if you can’t do the things that make you grateful for today and excited about tomorrow? Maybe if more of us found and embraced our obsessions, this wouldn’t be a question that needed to be asked. Unfortunately, we’re not there yet.
The truth is, there’s really only one thing that separates the obsessed from everybody else: how much pain they’re willing to endure in pursuit of their goals.
In my experience, the further along the spectrum you get toward obsession, the more pain you’re willing to take and the harder you will work to overcome any obstacle. In fact, that’s what makes obsession one of the great differentiators. It makes you willing to endure any amount of pain, discomfort, self-doubt or criticism to achieve your goals. Conversely, when it’s mostly about the paycheck or it’s just about your ability, your breaking point will come much sooner. You will start to look for other things to do with your time and energy when things get really hard.
In football, as I suspect it is with many disciplines and professions, when the internal magnet of obsession is drawing you in a direction that doesn’t fully align with the demands of the sport, the amount of struggle you can take and how often you can take it will be the thing that defines how long you last and how far you go.
APPLICATION
I was fortunate that on my Super Bowl teams, in the huddle with the game on the line, I was surrounded by players who were obsessed enough with something related to football that they’d do everything they could possibly do in that moment to help move the team closer to victory and to a championship.
As a leader or a coach or a CEO, your goal should be to find talented people who share an obsession with what you do. Though you shouldn’t take that too literally. If you run a football team, for instance, you shouldn’t just look for people who are obsessed with football. You should deepen your focus. Drill down and figure out what kinds of people make a great team.
Guys who are obsessed with football? Sure. But also, guys who are obsessed with competing, with self-improvement, with being a great teammate, with strategy, with leadership and camaraderie, with solving puzzles, with hand-to-hand combat. Football doesn’t have to be someone’s first love for them to be a great football player or an elite performer, it just needs to be an avenue for them to follow their obsessions in a way that’s rewarding to them and productive for the team.
I’m a prime example. Originally, I wasn’t obsessed with football, per se. I was obsessed with sports, with leadership, and with elite performance. Football was the first place those obsessions came together in the most productive combination possible. My friend Alex Guerrero is similar. He’s not obsessed with sports. He’s obsessed with health and wellness. I have another friend, Mike Repole at Nobull, who’s a brilliant entrepreneur but what really drives him is his obsession with leadership, camaraderie and the grind. Pro sports and entrepreneurship, respectively, were the first and best places where their obsessions allowed them to have maximum positive impact.
That being said, it’s not a leader’s job to figure out what your obsessions actually are. It’s your job to have the self-awareness and humility to look within yourself and figure it out. Maybe you already have. Maybe you’re finished with your first career and you just need to reflect a little as you think about a second act. Regardless, it’s your responsibility to think long and hard, to look in the mirror, and then to display for others what you find there. If you want a long, successful career or a life filled with gratitude and joy, it’s critical especially when you’re young to put societal expectations and parental pressures about money or status to the side, and to be honest about what’s pulling at your heart while being clear-eyed about where it’s pulling you. Ask yourself:
What is pulling my attention, energy and effort, like a magnet?
Where are my obsessions an asset, and am I good at or interested in any of those things?
Can I get paid enough for any of the things I’m good at to support the pursuit of my obsessions on the side?
I’ve said before that if you can find something that fills your head, your heart, and your wallet, then you’ve hit the jackpot. It’s not always possible. And you’ll need to make compromises professionally, and establish firm priorities personally, if you determine it’s not.
But if it is possible, if finding something that fills all three buckets is realistic, 99 times out of 100 you’re going to find it by acknowledging your obsessions and following the momentum created by the pull they have on your heart to make the best possible choices available to you.
You might not win the Super Bowl. You might not win the lottery. But you’ll win at life, and you can’t get much richer than that.
