A (Hidden) Gem

Saturday I got a lesson in how short-sighted I can be.

Do you value your ability to find hidden gems? Whether they be in ideas, people, music, stocks, books, restaurants, bars, parks, running trails or even downtown parking spots. A hidden gem is a triumph of discovery. A hidden gem is a victory of exclusiveness. A hidden gem is a celebration of being the first to know.

Lots of people pride themselves in their ability to discover such gems. It’s what makes for a successful career in the arts or sports. It’s what provides credibility to a reviewer. It’s what positions your friend as the go-to for social or sartorial advice. It’s what makes a great talent manager in the workplace.

I am constantly on the hunt for gems. While decidedly old school I pore over countless hard copy industry magazines looking for emerging strategies, conventions, and ideas. Equally time consuming is my overwhelming feed of online newsletters, tip providers, e-newsletters and blog feeds. Short of sleeping with my iPad, avoiding all meal and related restroom visits, I couldn’t possibly consume every pixel sent my way. But I try.

At work, I constantly pay attention to which young stars are shining with our clients and watching them ascend. At our agency, I love hearing about the star intern who is touted as the one to hire before we lose her to another company’s full-time opportunity. Similarly keeping my ear to the ground for intel on competitor’s talent or a bloom occurring on the property side.

My favourite place to discover tomorrow’s today is on the gridiron. Nothing is more thrilling as a coach than to witness a raw athlete finding their legs. You can attach any flowery metaphor you care to, in describing their growth from shy first-timer to suddenly confident contributor. Mistakenly we credit our whistle-touting selves as the fatherly creator of this arising team saviour, when really the young babe had it in them all along. Win, lose, or draw the emergence of the hidden gem provides countless hours of group congratulatory dialogue for you and your fellow coaches.

Except when the hidden gem is buried right in front of you and you don’t see it. Except when the hidden gem puts their hand up a year ago to play a key position on the team and you say no, we have three experienced team members who can play that spot already. Except when this hidden gem can be so lazy on the practice field, you call him unmotivated. Except you didn’t realize he’s a gamer. Except when you didn’t realize that maybe your 51-year-old mind’s approach to practice is much different than a kid’s approach.

Let’s go full circle to my self-directed anger on Saturday. A crisis had struck our team at this crucial position. Our starter, and star, was away at camp and we needed a replacement. The hidden gem came on the field with only 1-1/2 practices under his belt in this role. Despite the fact he played for me for 12 weeks last spring, and 12 weeks last fall, and we’re already ten weeks into this spring season, just 1-1/2 practices. Because when he asked if he could play this spot, I saw his lazy practice habits and said no. I didn’t look beneath the surface at the gem.

In that short practice time he was a changed man. I still doubted whether he could do it in the game. It wasn’t enough practice time. I was kicking myself. I could have prepped him for a year and a half.

I deserved those kicks. He was outstanding. He played carefree, made several stunning plays on the field, energized his teammates, shook off mistakes and kept on rolling. Every one of our coaches was amazed. Dumbstruck. In awe. You know when you close your eyes to rewind a play in your personal VR mind and you can’t help but smile as you can recall frame by frame every move, deke, and missed tackle. He did do all that you have to tell yourself, with a confident smile on your face.

But he could have been so much more. If I had only listened. I could have had him more ready for today. I could have had him playing this spot last year. I could have, should have, would have.

Instead I judged a book by its cover. Which I usually pride myself in not doing. That’s why my former 255-pound high school centre is now playing pro ball in Germany, as a QUARTERBACK, and lighting it up on the field, to the point where higher division teams are lighting up his phone with contract offers. In today’s case, it’s a lazy practice player, who maybe isn’t lazy. Maybe I am just boring him with my old school practice approach.

Lesson learned for me. Slow down. Eliminate the distractions. Stop my mouth from opening before my ears have. Listen carefully. Someone is trying to tell me something and it doesn’t matter if they are only 12 years old.

They are a gem to be seen.