Ping Pong, Ambition, and Winning (even though I lost).

I’m still upset about it. 

19-21. 

Life is instruction.  It was no different last night during a game of ping pong versus a stranger, in a small tournament at a local bar. 

It had been a week and change since my last game against my brothers in D.C. and I was feeling confident.  After all, how many people can be that much better than us? As I watched warm-ups, my confidence was bolstered by the ineptitude of my competition: sloppy backhands, forehands like they were slapping a bug on the wall, ridiculous spin-heavy trick shots. 

But much like reading an ad headline and thinking, “that’s easy, I could do that” and doing it, the story was different during my game.  I was later told that I looked just as embarrassing as the rest of the paddle-wielding motley crew. 

19-21.  I lost.  I had a few nice forehands for easy winners but my usual consistent backhand failed me repeatedly. 

I blame many things, including but not limited to: not enough warm up time, my nerves, the two 9.5% IPAs I had prior to the match, not a large enough playing area, Arabs. 

But I also need to blame (credit) the guy I played against.  He didn’t hit the ball very hard but at least he was consistent and had a wicked topspin that I was wholly unprepared for.  The three-star balls had noticeably more pop than the single star (or no star) I’m accustomed to.  He had a decent serve - as soon as he focused on my crumbling backhand.  I crushed my forehand cross-court the few times he challenged it.  I mounted a mini comeback with my slice service that he repeatedly bonered into the net (yep I just made up a verb) and lost my grip when I imprudently switched to the topspin.  The final point (his serve still) was sharply hit to my backhand and my slice that would have tied the game at 20-up just missed the end of the table. 

Life has its little instructions and this was one of them.  Think it over, move on, get better.  End of story.

I’m now going to attempt to parlay this into something about ad writing.  Because, you know, it’s sort of my career.

Consistency both in pong and writing is good but it won’t win you the game.  Consistency is mediocre.  I can sit and write inane boring shit all day – and sometimes have to – but I’m always rallying to set up for the crosscourt winner.  Sometimes (most often) I miss wide or in the net, but it’s better to go big than let the competition exploit your weakness and tentativeness.

I hit the ball hard and fast in places you can’t return it.  You won’t see the ball I hit but you’ll know you’ve lost the point.  I aim to win the point quickly and decisively.  I play offense.

Playing defense is for people that never score.

So it is with writing, and day-to-day life.  I had a conversation last night (basically) about the price of success.  Ambition has always had a price, at least literarily, but only as a fatal flaw. 

Ambition is an interesting idea.  Ambition connotes a certain level of confidence, or “can-do-ness” but simultaneously implies an eagerness and preference for the process.  Overconfident Ambition doesn’t care for process and that’s when it becomes fatally flawed.   If you skip the process, you skip the learning. 

It’s hard straddling the line as a writer in ad school, especially because I’m extraordinarily competitive.    I’m confident that I’m a good ping pong player regardless of winning or losing.  Yet, I’m upset and embarrassed I lost. 

I may not be losing at ad school but I don’t think I’m winning yet either, and it may have something to do with my shot selection.