written by JOHN MARK MINES | DECISION-MAKING, CONSISTENCY, SUCCESS
Champions keep playing until they get it right.
Billie Jean King
Super Dud
With seconds left in Super Bowl XLIX, the Seattle Seahawks were inches away from victory. The dynamic duo of Marshawn Lynch and Russell Wilson, the best runners in the league, could make those inches look like nothing. Head Coach Pete Carroll ignored that fact. Unbelievably, he chose to call a pass play instead.
Wilson’s pass was then intercepted by fifth-string cornerback Malcolm Butler. In an instant, certain victory turned into crushing defeat. Game over.
Needless to say, this decision was highly criticized. Some called it the worst call in NFL history. Cris Collinsworth, the commentator during the game, could not hide is incredulity: “I’m sitting here and I absolutely cannot believe that play-call. If I lose the Super Bowl because Marshawn Lynch can’t get it in from the 1-yard line, so be it. So be it. But there is no way… I don’t believe the call.”
Beyond this moment of weakness, Pete Carroll is an excellent coach. He won the Super Bowl with the Seahawks the year before, and won the Rose Bowl four times with USC. He’s coached for over 50 years, and is in fact still coaching to this day. So, this begs the question: how could such a good coach make such a bad choice?
Decision of a Lifetime
Decision-making is hard. Bad choices ruin games, careers, and lives. Being in charge means facing criticism, contempt, and disgrace. This would all be a lot easier if we could always make the right decisions.
Like life, championships are decided by countless decisions. Still, few stand alone. They get the spotlight. We fixate on these moments, as if they hold the entirety of fate in their hands. Never mind the other 150 plays in the game; this one mattered most.
But this emphasis is an illusion. When it comes to decisions, there are no islands; only archipelagos.
Decisions never stand alone. They are like seconds in the day: we can imagine them as independent moments, but in reality they blur together like water in a stream.
The best decision, then, doesn’t exist; only the best decisions-making. Greatness isn’t about getting lucky; it’s about making a statement.
Even the Best Fall Down Sometimes
In 1993, after his father passed away, Michael Jordan retired from basketball. At that time, he was already a three-time NBA champion, MVP, and Finals MVP. When he returned in 1995, he changed his number from 23 to 45 to mark the beginning of a new era.
Later that seasons the Chicago Bulls were leading the Orlando Magic in the playoffs. With 22 seconds left, Jordan turned the ball over to Nick Anderson. Then, he did it again. The Bulls lost. Jordan was like Carroll: in the last seconds of the game, he let his whole team down.
Anderson bragged after the game: “45 isn’t 23.”
Jordan got the message. The next game, he wore jersey number 23, scored 38 points, and led the Bulls to victory. Nevertheless, the Bulls lost the series. This would be Jordan’s first season without a championship in five years.
That night, Tim Grover, Jordan’s trainer, gave Jordan space to process the defeat. “Let me know when you want me to see you,” Grover said to Jordan, giving him carte blanche to extend his off-season as long as needed.
Jordan didn’t hesitate: “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jordan wasn’t the best because he had great games. He was the best because he had a great career. The hallmark of greatness isn’t moments of brilliance: it’s an overwhelming record of success.
Taken one decision at a time, Jordan doesn’t look like a very good basketball player. He lost hundreds of games and missed tens of thousands of shots, including 26 game-winning shots. So why is he considered the best?
Because being the best means having the best resume, not the best day. If we want to be the best, we have to face facts: being great means making mistakes. Losing is a part of winning.
The Forest, or the Trees?
Those who obsess over the perfection of every single decision will never be the best. To take two steps forward, you have to be willing to take one step back. But that’s okay, because the steps don’t matter as much as the distance.
If you’re a fan of college football, you’ve heard the rankings committee talk about “body of work.” No team is judged solely based on the performance of a single day. Instead, they focus on the season as a whole. They look at the forest, not the trees.
In fact, in all areas of life, judgement almost always occurs in the aggregate. “Getting to know” someone means observing countless micro-interactions. Over time, a picture emerges, like a portrait composed with a thousand brushstrokes.
Decisions, too, are parts of a whole. That’s why making the wrong decision can actually make the whole better, like a wildfire fostering growth for the overall forest.
Being the best is about creating a body of work. It’s about creating a resume, portrait, and identity. Ultimately, being the best comes down to one thing: your portfolio.
Part-folio
Financially, a portfolio is a set of investments, like in a retirement account. You might invest in stocks, bonds, and cash, or real estate, gold, and crypto. Whatever you choose, your assortment of assets is your portfolio.
port·fo·li·o /pôrtˈfōlēō/
noun : (1) a set of pieces of creative work collected by someone to display their skills;
(2) a range of investments held by a person or organization.
Portfolios are about forests, not trees. Alone, cash is a bad investment strategy; nevertheless, it can serve a critical role in a broader portfolio. It’s much better as part of a whole.
Strategy separates investing from gambling. In fact, a portfolio will always perform worse than the best single investment: one dollar’s worth of bitcoin in 2010 would yield a million dollars today.
But that’s gambling. Anyone can get lucky, but enduring success takes consistency. For every few hundred one-hit wonders, there’s a single Stevie Wonder. For every ten NFL champions, there’s one Patrick Mahomes. For every few million day-traders, there’s one Warren Buffett.
Greatest can’t be gained in a day. It doesn’t lie in a single moment, decision, or outcome. Instead, it takes time. But with strategy comes security: even when one asset class loses value, or one decision goes wrong, the rest of the portfolio is there to pick up the slack.
Come Together
Portfolios don’t get much attention, but we love them. They are the sexiest thing you’ve never heard of. In fact, we expect them everywhere we go. Without a portfolio, we get that strange feeling that something is missing. Portfolios, though, feel complete.
When we sit down to dinner, we want a meal, not a side dish. We want a diversity of flavors, textures, and colors. If we only get part of the whole, we are left unsatisfied.
Football teams need linemen, receivers, and cornerbacks. Homes need a bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom. Bands need a singer, guitarist, and drummer. Each player has a role to play; each part serves the whole.
In Ocean’s 11, Daniel Ocean needed ten crew members. But not just any ten: he needed a “Boesky, a Jim Brown, a Miss Daisy, two Jethros and a Leon Spinks,” whatever that means. Like an orchestra, he needed parts of a whole.
When the whole takes on an identity of its own, it becomes something new. That’s the magic of a portfolio.
101 Reasons
Portfolios make decision-making easier. Each individual choice belongs somewhere; we are no longer gambling or living one second at a time. Instead, we are painting a portrait; we are defining an identity.
When Carroll won the 2014 Super Bowl with the Seahawks, he knew that one good day wasn’t enough. “That’s always been in my mind,” Carroll says years later. “To show you can do it again. To show that you’re real. To show that no matter what happens, you can still be you.”
To Carroll, football is about more than winning and losing. It’s about identity; it’s about showing the world who you are.
The road to greatness is guaranteed to be bumpy. But when individual choices are part of a whole, it’s much easier to stay on track, get back up, and try again. And even if you suffer a humiliating defeat, don’t worry: you’re in good company.
