There's 0:04 seconds left on the clock, it's 4th down, and the
Rams have the ball on the Seahawks' 2-yard line. A touchdown wins the
game earning the Rams a massive upset, but anything else and it's a loss.
Pass or run, what to do? The Rams tried to punch it in on third
down, and got overwhelmed. As the announcers pointed out, the Seahawks
D-line was too good, the Rams didn't have good enough blockers, and so on the
pivotal 4th down play, they were going to have to pass.
They line up, backup QB under center, and
he drops back for a quick pass. Defenders streaking at him, he lets loose
an awful pass that lands nowhere near his receiver, and the game is over.
Just before I turn off the TV, I hear the
announcer solemnly intone, "Well, I can't imagine what they were thinking
throwing there, the Seahawks have the best pass defense in the league.
They ran the ball down the field, why didn't they just run it
there?" WHAAATTT? I just listened to you prattle on for two minutes
about how the Rams HAD to throw because a run wouldn't work, and now you're
saying that was a bad call? Are you kidding me?
Of course, this got me thinking about my
own life and how doggone good I am at second-guessing both myself and everyone
around me. The simple truth is that the only thing more difficult than
creating something that goes awry is listening to someone you care about poke
holes in that which you tried to create, and by extension you. Odds are
pretty good they're already struggling and they need you to help them heal, not
to tell them about how badly they screwed up.
It's easy to sit in an announcing booth
and say, "Grumble, grumble, that was a turrible decision,
FOOOTBAAAWW." It's a lot harder to go back to the locker room, deal
with your own second-guessing and what-ifs, and figure out what you're going to
do next.
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