The Learning Curve

It’s pretty amazing that we ever learn anything new. It’s even more amazing that we become experts at anything. It’s amazing because of the learning curve. Today I watched my son’s football practice. It’s his first year playing the game and while he’s enthusiastic about the sport, he really knows nothing about it. I’m pretty sure that he got into it for the tackling. I’ve gotten called into the Principle’s office more than once to address his tendency to randomly wrestle kids to the ground in the middle of math class. They were never sure how to punish him since they determined that he was never trying to hurt anyone, he just wanted to playfully see if he could take them to the ground. This was disruptive because the two boys would usually dissolve into fits of uncontrollable laughter—ending the progress the class was making on their times tables. So he begged us to sign him up for tackle football. The kid was so happy on his first day of practice that he had a hard time keeping his mouth-guard in place.


Then he learned the truth that anyone who has ever attempted something new inevitably learns—it’s not as easy as it looks. The players don’t run around the field randomly, they march down the field according to a complex set of battle plans that have to be studied nightly. Not only do you have to know where the “x’s” and where the “o’s” will move in a play, you have to know which “x” is you and you also have to know that the “o” may not act according to the coaches plans. To top it off, because he has a stronger physique, he has to play both defense and offense. It’s evident that this transition is difficult because he always looks lost the first two or three downs after he has switched from offensive to defensive line. A lot of times this is the point where we give up. The magic behind the curtain is revealed and you find out that the effortless illusion takes tremendous work and practice—and you’re not sure you’re interested in becoming Lance Burton anymore.

But we are amazing. It’s like we can remember that walking involved getting knocked down by furniture that didn’t even move and we remember that we kept getting up. There’s something inside us that pushes us on—but only if we’ve made the decision that we really want to put in the effort to become good at it. We’re now a few games into the season and my son is catching on. He doesn’t look as confused and he’s pulled out a couple of amazing tackles. But there are kids on the team that still beg to be pulled out and seem to only look forward to the treats at the end of practice. They’ve determined it’s not worth getting knocked down.

The older I get the less I want to be knocked around. I’m happy not to jeopardize my hip health in order to learn Salsa dancing. But I’ve also learned from watching those kids that trying something new is a victory all its own. I’d kind of forgotten that along the way. It’s time that I give something new a shot. Any suggestions?