Second place is the first loser, as a popular shirt in the 90s proclaimed. It’s true; unless you win the fight, you’re relegated to the “Wait ‘til next year” crowd. And the seating area for that group is a sad and lonely place to be.
In my professional career, I subscribe to the mindset that someone is going to win this game, so it might as well be me. I’ll be honest; I hate losing. (Who LIKES losing, Brian?) I REALLY hate losing. It’s the proverbial nails on the chalkboard for me to be relegated to any place on the medal podium where the metal given doesn’t go by the atomic symbol Au. It irritates the hell out of me that I let someone beat me, that they were able to secure the sale or the contract or the deal.
But instead of whining and pouting like a toddler who isn’t allowed to eat another cookie before bed time, I use that energy to focus on the next contest. The next mountain. The next person who will be the unfortunate recipient of my overwhelming desire to wash the bad taste of losing out of my mouth.
If you’re one of those knuckle draggers who simply doesn’t care in what place they finish or that shy from competition, I have a term for your kind: a creampuff. If you aren’t willing to put it all out there to win, you’re more reminiscent of a pastry than a person.
So what’s it gonna be: a butt kicker, or a creampuff?