Uncertainty

Welcome back! 

I had a wonderfully vulnerable post in mind, all about uncertainty. You were going to read two stories: one about my last first date, the other about my time in unemployment. I was struggling though, nothing seemed to coalesce in my mind to bring it all home. Then I watched a hockey game, my post changed, and it came together.

For most of us, uncertainty sucks. Plain and simple. An unknown outcome almost always seems like it feels worse than a known, no matter how dull that known outcome may be. Take camping. I’ve planned and been on hundreds of camping, hiking, climbing, and canoe trips. Typically, no amount of planning can ever account for everything and something always goes wrong. Horribly wrong. But. Let’s think about those stories. The ones where a storm comes out of nowhere; when the map gets read wrong; when raccoons outsmart you and your bear canister. Good stories. Actually let’s think about if it did go according to plan. Let’s write that story right now.

“I went camping this weekend! I drove out, walked around for a bit, sat around for a while, went to sleep, got up, sat around for a while, then walked back the way I came!”

What a terrible story. Please never tell it again. I’m sorry I told you. I had five readers and now I have four. One died from boredom. 

Uncertainty is probably a driving force of what made me go out on those trips. I want the good story. I want the unknown. I want the sense of accomplishment that naturally follows coming through an ordeal. I was thinking this morning that it’s likely one of the most appealing parts of sports fandom. It’s a safer path of uncertainty to follow. It’s limited and doesn’t really hurt us if it doesn’t work out. 

Last night the Dallas Stars played the Edmonton Oilers in game one of the western conference championship. I won’t give you a full play by play, but I’ll give you some. I’m a life long Stars fan so this will be from that perspective. Edmonton played lights out all night. They made us look like we were on the penalty kill every time they were in our zone. They were crisp, fast, in sync; it was finesse at its finest and wildly infuriating to watch. They scored first, we answered, one to one. In the 2nd period, they scored twice; three to one. We looked gassed. We looked discombobulated. We looked out of it. I almost committed the cardinal sin. I almost turned it off. I knew the outcome. But that little bit of uncertainty, that small lingering voice somewhere deep within that says “maybe you don’t.” That voice won out.

The third period opened with the Stars on the power play, five on four hockey. Miro Heiskanen got one by the Edmonton keeper, three to two. My fitbit woke up. Shortly after, we were back on the power play. Mikal Granlund buried one in the net. Tie game. My heartrate, usually resting around 65, was up to 95. My wife next to me begged “oh please don’t go to overtime on a Thursday night in game one.” A minute later, on the powerplay again, the Stars heard her and capitulated, Matt Duchene scored and we had taken the lead. My fitbit began sending me warnings of impending doom to my cardiovascular system. With roughly four minutes left in the period, Tyler Seguin scored his second of the game putting Dallas up five to three. My fitbit made the ultimate sacrifice and gave up the ghost, trading its life for mine (thank you Sir Counts-A-Lot, you will be missed and replaced). With three minutes and fifteen seconds left in the game, Edmonton pulled their goalie to put an extra attacker on the ice. From almost the other side of the rink, Dallas’ Esa Lindell cleared the puck from his own zone…right into the empty net. Six to three. The Oilers never let up in those last minutes, but my heart rate came back down. I think we’d already used all the magic in the air for the night. The Stars won, and I drifted off into a blissful sleep. 

The game was wild and had everything. And I almost stopped watching. My fear of uncertainty almost had me missing a night made of highlight reels, joy, and (for Stars fans) victory. Yes there was the chance none of that would have happened. The chance that with three minutes left it was still three to one Edmonton and that when the game ended, it was the Oilers who got the empty netter finishing the game at four to one. So why did I keep watching? I’m a typically cautious person who goes out of his way to avoid uncertainty. Why put myself through it? 

I think sports allows us to risk a bit of discomfort. Uncertainty is necessarily uncomfortable. We don’t like being uncomfortable, it’s why we call it that. But a hockey game is sixty minutes, three twenty minute periods. If it had gone poorly for the Stars, I can live with that. Down three to one in third? I can risk twenty minutes of the unknown for a potentially awesome result. I can also risk twenty minutes for a potentially sad result. It’s fleeting. We won! Yay! As read above, what did I do? I went to sleep. Like, immediately. What would I have done if we lost? Aw, sadness. And I would have gone to sleep. Immediately. 

In watching a game, it’s a high reward, low risk endeavor. We get to feel all that awesomeness of overcoming an unknown, of diving into the uncertain, and coming out on top. And if we don’t get it (see: Cowboys fan), well, I can go to bed whenever I want. 

My take away is this: I can’t honestly think of too many times I reached into the void of uncertainty and had a result that I couldn’t put to bed. I’ve poured coffee grounds into an empty mug and stared at it trying to figure out what was wrong. I’ve botched job interviews, relationships, even a whole restoration project once. Did I die like my poor reader I bored to death earlier? Apparently not. So I’m going to try something for the next week or so. I’m going to find one thing, every day, that brings me uncertainty…and I’m going to dive in. I’m going on the canoe trip even though a storm is forecast. I'm going to have the tough conversation. I’m going to leave game on. I might come out on top. Or I might go to bed, and try again tomorrow. I encourage you to do the same. 

As always, reach out if you feel. I’m at Michael@cityupgroup.com. And if you’re uncertain about, say, real estate….I especially encourage you to reach out. There’s opportunity everywhere if we’re willing.