I recently witnessed Canada win an Olympic Gold Medal in men's hockey. I was amazed at the teamwork, the efficiency of play and most importantly the long term focus of a country to create such amazing players.
Canada has a population of just over 35 million people. 670,000 kids under 18 play minor hockey. Canada is the 37th most populated country in the world. There are two other hockey countries with a greater population (Russia and USA). Sweden won the silver medal. The Swedes have the 89th most populated country in the world (8.9 million). Finland, who won bronze, might be the most impressive - 5.4 million people.
The power of focus of one particular subject will make you a world class expert. Our recent success the Olympics demonstrates it. Kids start at a young age. Many parents trade their weekends for hockey rinks. We spend money, time and focus on the wee athletes. Summers are spent playing road hockey. Some dream of super-stardom for their kids. Others just want their kids to have fun. Either case, we put a lot of effort into these proteges. No wonder we're awesome at it...
My son doesn't play organized hockey. He never asked for it so we don't push it. Yet, he still has his net downstairs and we play 3 nights a week, taking turns as the goaltender. Every goal is celebrated like he just won the Stanley Cup.
As much as I'm impressed with a small populated nation like Canada, I'm more impressed with the hockey ability of Finland. They shouldn't be able to play with the likes of Russia and United States. The numbers shouldn't let them be competitive.
Another example of focus on sports and population is Cuba. One of the best countries in the world in baseball, Cuba has 11 million people- 3.4% the size of United States.
If you want to be world class at anything, all you need to do is focus and practice. It's been proven that after 10,000 hours you will be an expert in whatever you decide.
10,000 hours is 5 years of continuous work at 40 hours per week, 50 weeks a year. It's not that hard to achieve if you have the ability to focus.
Do you have the guts to positively change the world? Get the expertise. Anyone can do it, even you and me.
Friday, February 28, 2014
Thursday, February 27, 2014
No assholes allowed
I recently stumbled upon a new book at Chapters. Usually I only buy books that have been recommended by friends. But this one jumped off the shelf with its title.
Never buy a book by its cover, right? We do it all of the time. We call it gut instinct. The book opened my imagination immediately. It made me think of all the people I've worked with over the years that were jerks. It made me think of my own actions and how I may have acted jerkily.
The book is titled, "The No Asshole Rule", by Robert I. Sutton. Here's what is written on the back cover:
"The definitive guide to working with - and surviving - bullies, creeps, jerks, tyrants, tormentors, despots, backstabbers, egomaniacs and all other assholes who do their best to destroy you at work".
I've labelled these people as sociopaths, but I like Dr. Sutton's straight to the point branding better.
He says that assholes need to be removed from the workplace. They are poison to culture. In many cases they will be high achievers. They will be constantly rewarded for measurable results. You won't be able to measure their poison and they generally aren't held accountable for ill effects they cause. The bad work will be translated into poor morale, poor work by counterparts, employee attrition and potentially lost revenues.
If you have assholes in your company and you have the power to get rid of them. Remove the poison quickly and surgically. They are not growing your business. They are hurting the reputation of your company.
Remember the story of the stinky kid in school. If you don't know who is the smelly kid in school, it's probably you.
If you look around your office and you don't have any assholes, either you have an amazing, productive organization or you're the asshole.
Do you know the easy way not to have assholes in your company. Don't hire them! If you're responsible for hiring, identify candidates who display tendencies of caring, and nurturing. Assholes only care about themselves. They put profit (both personal and organizational) ahead of people.
People have to come first, always. It is a known fact that organizations that put people first, always get more profit long term. Plus it's always more fun working for that type of company than the alternative. Fun keeps people engaged in the vision.
My next company, I'm going to have a sign put in everyone's office, "No assholes allowed". It'll remind everyone what we stand for first.
Ta ta for now!
Never buy a book by its cover, right? We do it all of the time. We call it gut instinct. The book opened my imagination immediately. It made me think of all the people I've worked with over the years that were jerks. It made me think of my own actions and how I may have acted jerkily.
The book is titled, "The No Asshole Rule", by Robert I. Sutton. Here's what is written on the back cover:
"The definitive guide to working with - and surviving - bullies, creeps, jerks, tyrants, tormentors, despots, backstabbers, egomaniacs and all other assholes who do their best to destroy you at work".
I've labelled these people as sociopaths, but I like Dr. Sutton's straight to the point branding better.
He says that assholes need to be removed from the workplace. They are poison to culture. In many cases they will be high achievers. They will be constantly rewarded for measurable results. You won't be able to measure their poison and they generally aren't held accountable for ill effects they cause. The bad work will be translated into poor morale, poor work by counterparts, employee attrition and potentially lost revenues.
If you have assholes in your company and you have the power to get rid of them. Remove the poison quickly and surgically. They are not growing your business. They are hurting the reputation of your company.
Remember the story of the stinky kid in school. If you don't know who is the smelly kid in school, it's probably you.
If you look around your office and you don't have any assholes, either you have an amazing, productive organization or you're the asshole.
Do you know the easy way not to have assholes in your company. Don't hire them! If you're responsible for hiring, identify candidates who display tendencies of caring, and nurturing. Assholes only care about themselves. They put profit (both personal and organizational) ahead of people.
People have to come first, always. It is a known fact that organizations that put people first, always get more profit long term. Plus it's always more fun working for that type of company than the alternative. Fun keeps people engaged in the vision.
My next company, I'm going to have a sign put in everyone's office, "No assholes allowed". It'll remind everyone what we stand for first.
Ta ta for now!
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Cats and dogs
My parents used to tell everyone how their children fought like cats and dogs. They were right. And it was all my fault.
I grew up in a rural community, where the nearest friend lived 5+ miles away. Until my parents let me drive my bike on the Trans Canada Highway, I was imprisoned. My sister was almost 3 years younger than me.
She had friends who lived next door. We had a cousin, only a year younger than her who lived within walking distance. All I had was her.
As a young boy, I liked to play in the woods. I enjoyed sports, snowball fights, fort building and other boy type stuff. My sister would play with me from time to time, but would get bored of the boy stuff and would revert to her girly activities, which I had no interest in. I refused compromise...
I would amuse myself by teasing and tormenting her. I constantly tortured her mentally. This always occupied my time and created funtimes for a young boy. I was bored. She was my guinea pig. Plus my parents would leave me in charge.
No one told me that girls grow faster than boys. As we approached puberty, she was about my size and she started defending herself. One day, I did something that crossed the line. I don't remember what it was. But the moment will always be remembered. She was at her breaking point. She picked up a hay fork and started chasing me with it. Although I deserved the reaction, I was scared. As I rounded the corner of the house, I grabbed a garden rake. We were now in a duel: Rake vs Fork. Neither one of us had a chance to take the first swing in our Mexican Standoff. Before we could act, a car drove by and honked the horn. My uncle and his two sons had just witnessed our extreme battle. Both of us, caught up into the moment realized the craziness and dropped our weapons. Now instead of the duel, we were more worried that our uncle was going to rat us out to our parents. We had done wrong and were afraid of the consequences. Our parents never mentioned it over the years. Maybe they never knew. Maybe they were immune to our battles. In either case, the only reminder we have about that day is from our cousins who witnessed it from the back seat of their dad's car.
That moment in time is the worst and funniest battle I can remember with my sister. Even though, we declared our hate for each other many times, I always stood up for her. When she started dating the community dope-head I ratted her out to our mom. When older kids teased her on the bus, I would stand up and protect her, despite getting the brunt of the teasing afterwards. I have always had her back.
As we grew older, we grew closer. As adults, we lived together for a while. She's a tough woman. I hope I had something to do with that. She has a huge heart.
Did we fight like cats and dogs? Hell yeah! Through all of the good and bad times we've had together, I respect her very much. She's a strong woman, a great mother and a loving wife and daughter.
I'm so proud of her. Love ya sis!
I grew up in a rural community, where the nearest friend lived 5+ miles away. Until my parents let me drive my bike on the Trans Canada Highway, I was imprisoned. My sister was almost 3 years younger than me.
She had friends who lived next door. We had a cousin, only a year younger than her who lived within walking distance. All I had was her.
As a young boy, I liked to play in the woods. I enjoyed sports, snowball fights, fort building and other boy type stuff. My sister would play with me from time to time, but would get bored of the boy stuff and would revert to her girly activities, which I had no interest in. I refused compromise...
I would amuse myself by teasing and tormenting her. I constantly tortured her mentally. This always occupied my time and created funtimes for a young boy. I was bored. She was my guinea pig. Plus my parents would leave me in charge.
No one told me that girls grow faster than boys. As we approached puberty, she was about my size and she started defending herself. One day, I did something that crossed the line. I don't remember what it was. But the moment will always be remembered. She was at her breaking point. She picked up a hay fork and started chasing me with it. Although I deserved the reaction, I was scared. As I rounded the corner of the house, I grabbed a garden rake. We were now in a duel: Rake vs Fork. Neither one of us had a chance to take the first swing in our Mexican Standoff. Before we could act, a car drove by and honked the horn. My uncle and his two sons had just witnessed our extreme battle. Both of us, caught up into the moment realized the craziness and dropped our weapons. Now instead of the duel, we were more worried that our uncle was going to rat us out to our parents. We had done wrong and were afraid of the consequences. Our parents never mentioned it over the years. Maybe they never knew. Maybe they were immune to our battles. In either case, the only reminder we have about that day is from our cousins who witnessed it from the back seat of their dad's car.
That moment in time is the worst and funniest battle I can remember with my sister. Even though, we declared our hate for each other many times, I always stood up for her. When she started dating the community dope-head I ratted her out to our mom. When older kids teased her on the bus, I would stand up and protect her, despite getting the brunt of the teasing afterwards. I have always had her back.
As we grew older, we grew closer. As adults, we lived together for a while. She's a tough woman. I hope I had something to do with that. She has a huge heart.
Did we fight like cats and dogs? Hell yeah! Through all of the good and bad times we've had together, I respect her very much. She's a strong woman, a great mother and a loving wife and daughter.
I'm so proud of her. Love ya sis!
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
I've never met a Newfie I didn't like
What makes a person from Newfoundland so special? I have yet to meet one I didn't like. They have a comforting, jovial spirit about them. Most of them are in perennial good moods. Anytime I've been around a Newf, there are usually funny stories, soliloquies, jokes and all round good times.
I've had cod and Screech. I don't think it comes from that. I have been known to be in a better mood after a few swishes of newfie moonshine, but it wears off by morning.
I don't know what it is, but I have to say I wish more people were like them. In a world where jerks seem to germinate by the minute, I have yet to meet one from Newfoundland.
I've heard similar comments from my friends in Central Canada who say the same thing about all Atlantic Canadians. Assholes exist here, I assure them.
Here's an idea for someone who wants to make a million dollars. Bottle up that Newfie like-ability and sell it as magic happy potion.
I don't know what they have to be happy about. They have the highest unemployment rate in the country. Cod stocks have depleted to almost nothing. They live on a rock. They get the worst snowstorms in the country. I've heard that snow can still be on the ground in June.
One winter I had to do business in Gander. Imagine my surprise when I couldn't see the first floor of the hotel. Snowbanks were up to the second floor balconies. I thought winter was tough in New Brunswick. We got nothing on Gander. That was the most snow I have ever seen in my life.
They don't take themselves too serious. They look at the bright side of life. They seem to value family, friends and fun, in that order.
I know I'm generalizing, but as a group, I think Newfoundlanders are the best group of people I've ever met.
I asked a friend once if there were any assholes in Newfoundland. Here's what he said, "There've been many over tha years bye. Once we find 'im, we deport 'im to Torontah".
That answers so much...
I asked a friend once if there were any assholes in Newfoundland. Here's what he said, "There've been many over tha years bye. Once we find 'im, we deport 'im to Torontah".
That answers so much...
Monday, February 24, 2014
Here comes Peter Cottontail, hopping down the bunny trail...
Have you ever had a pet rabbit? I did. Problem was I wanted babies. Baby animals are always the cutest. They remind me of a stuffed toy. So dad got me a male to go with my girl bunny.
We started with two rabbits one spring and ended with over 100 the following summer. They bred like, like rabbits. They started in a cage as pets, but soon their reproductivity was out of control. Incestuous, dirty little bunnies. We couldn't afford to keep feeding them, so we let them go into the wild.
They were no longer pets. They were vermin. One afternoon, my dad had a craving for rabbit stew. He gave me his 12 gauge and told me to go fetch one. There were plenty of them. Their white furry coats could be seen from 200 yards. It was my job to bring supper home. Coming home empty handed was not an option for this 13 year old boy. I had to prove to my dad that I was a man. That I could be trusted with taking care of my family by putting food on the table. Probably partly egotistical, partly stupid, I walked slowly toward the woods and got within 20 yards of the biggest red eyed albino bunny I had ever seen. As he wondered what the little guy with the big piece of steel was doing, I was taking aim for his head. I pulled the trigger. He let out a squeal, kicked about 10 times and lied motionless in the grass.
They were no longer pets. They were vermin. One afternoon, my dad had a craving for rabbit stew. He gave me his 12 gauge and told me to go fetch one. There were plenty of them. Their white furry coats could be seen from 200 yards. It was my job to bring supper home. Coming home empty handed was not an option for this 13 year old boy. I had to prove to my dad that I was a man. That I could be trusted with taking care of my family by putting food on the table. Probably partly egotistical, partly stupid, I walked slowly toward the woods and got within 20 yards of the biggest red eyed albino bunny I had ever seen. As he wondered what the little guy with the big piece of steel was doing, I was taking aim for his head. I pulled the trigger. He let out a squeal, kicked about 10 times and lied motionless in the grass.
My first kill was a rabbit. I brought my bounty home proudly. Then my old man threw a curve ball at me. He said, "You killed it, you gut it and skin it". What? I thought that was dad's job. I killed it. He always skinned 'em. Not today. It was my turn to enter manhood through the skinning of death.
Killing an animal at 20 yards is easy. Just pull the trigger. Removing its fluffy white fur and ripping out its intestines just seemed barbaric. After all bunnies are cute and lovable, not to mention the whole Easter Bunny myth that was revealed only a few years earlier. This was going to be tough for a young hunter.
Putting a hand inside a recently deceased animal changes a person. The body heat exuded from a fresh kill is actually quite disgusting. Everything is slimy. I had to pull and tug on internal organs. I had to find and save the heart and liver because my neighbor thought them to be a delicassy. I had to bring my mind somewhere else. I didn't want to know what I was touching. It wasn't time for a biology class. The quicker it was over, the better I would be.
It's been years since I have gutted an animal but I will never forget that first one.
By the way, I didn't eat any rabbit that night. Nor have I ever eaten rabbit since. I try it and it disgusts me every time. From then on out, my rabbit kills were strictly for fox food.
I haven't hunted in 12 years. I like the tranquility of the woods. I like the meat that comes from the hunt. I actually like the hunt. Every time I see an animal die or when I have to get my elbows deep in blood, it hurts. It hurts from a deep, emotional place.
Don't get me wrong, if I have to kill to feed my family, I will be the first in the woods. If my family isn't going hungry, animals are safe near me unless they become assholes.
I haven't hunted in 12 years. I like the tranquility of the woods. I like the meat that comes from the hunt. I actually like the hunt. Every time I see an animal die or when I have to get my elbows deep in blood, it hurts. It hurts from a deep, emotional place.
Don't get me wrong, if I have to kill to feed my family, I will be the first in the woods. If my family isn't going hungry, animals are safe near me unless they become assholes.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Are you hockey nut?
In a country that doesn't come across as boastful, we take our hockey pretty serious. In world terms, Canadians always rank high on the like-ability scale. We don't invade other countries. We don't take a hard stand in world politics. We kinda live by the motto, "live and let live". I love telling people I'm from Canada. In general, we're nice, honest people.
Then hockey season comes and we start to act like a bunch of rabid Cujo's looking for the taste of blood. We're a proud people. I get that. Why do we get so consumed by 5 grown men chasing a little black cylinder with the objective of shooting it past a gatekeeper into a fish net? Our nice guy attitude gets thrown in the corner because winning isn't everything, it's the only thing. We need to win, or we're not happy.
We're good at it. Actually we're really good at it. There are over 620,000 children under 18 years old registered with Hockey Canada. We see parents screaming at their kids at the rink, in hopes of them becoming the next Sidney Crosby.
Do you know where hockey ranks as a sport practiced the most by children? Number 3: Soccer is first, followed by swimming.
Soccer? I know soccer is a popular sport. It's a cheap sport compared to hockey. It probably has something to do with immigration, right? Soccer is the most popular sport in the world. That might all be true, but it doesn't help our ability on the international scene. Canada hasn't had a men's team at the World Cup since 1986. That was the only time, Canada has ever qualified for soccer's top tournament.
Yesterday, I fell into a Twitter feed with the hashtag "#fuckCanada". It's actually pretty funny. There are a bunch of Americans pissed that Canada beat them twice in two days at the Sochi Olympics. They have 10x the population, but couldn't beat neither men's nor women's team. There's a lot of back and forth banter. None of which matters. It feels good to put our southern neighbors in their place. Despite what they tell us, they aren't the best at everything.
My friends will string me up for saying this, but hockey's just a game. It's fun to know my countrymen are really good at it. It's awesome to cheer for a winning team. It would be unpatriotic to root for another team at the Olympics, wouldn't it?
Yes, I'm proud to be Canadian. I'm cheering for Canada to win a gold medal in Men's Hockey. Whether Canada wins or not, I'll forget about it tomorrow.
It is just a game. Doesn't change my life in the least. Hope my friends realize that too.
Then hockey season comes and we start to act like a bunch of rabid Cujo's looking for the taste of blood. We're a proud people. I get that. Why do we get so consumed by 5 grown men chasing a little black cylinder with the objective of shooting it past a gatekeeper into a fish net? Our nice guy attitude gets thrown in the corner because winning isn't everything, it's the only thing. We need to win, or we're not happy.
We're good at it. Actually we're really good at it. There are over 620,000 children under 18 years old registered with Hockey Canada. We see parents screaming at their kids at the rink, in hopes of them becoming the next Sidney Crosby.
Do you know where hockey ranks as a sport practiced the most by children? Number 3: Soccer is first, followed by swimming.
Soccer? I know soccer is a popular sport. It's a cheap sport compared to hockey. It probably has something to do with immigration, right? Soccer is the most popular sport in the world. That might all be true, but it doesn't help our ability on the international scene. Canada hasn't had a men's team at the World Cup since 1986. That was the only time, Canada has ever qualified for soccer's top tournament.
Yesterday, I fell into a Twitter feed with the hashtag "#fuckCanada". It's actually pretty funny. There are a bunch of Americans pissed that Canada beat them twice in two days at the Sochi Olympics. They have 10x the population, but couldn't beat neither men's nor women's team. There's a lot of back and forth banter. None of which matters. It feels good to put our southern neighbors in their place. Despite what they tell us, they aren't the best at everything.
My friends will string me up for saying this, but hockey's just a game. It's fun to know my countrymen are really good at it. It's awesome to cheer for a winning team. It would be unpatriotic to root for another team at the Olympics, wouldn't it?
Yes, I'm proud to be Canadian. I'm cheering for Canada to win a gold medal in Men's Hockey. Whether Canada wins or not, I'll forget about it tomorrow.
It is just a game. Doesn't change my life in the least. Hope my friends realize that too.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
The Boy Scout Motto
As a kid I had the pleasure of being a Boy Scout. Not sure how I got started. All I remember is going to an old building that used to be a school. I was in grade 1. My friend's mom was one of the leaders. Maybe it was become of him I enlisted.
I started in Beavers, went through Cubs and stopped after Boy Scouts. The program was strong in my town. We had over 30 kids in Cubs, aged 7-10 years old. The popularity of Scouts wasn't as strong. It probably had to do with the coming of age of a boy. We only had 6 boys in our troop. Scouts were for 11-15 year olds. When drinking, girls and video games became more important to most, some of us still preferred camping, hiking and outdoor adventure.
I'm not sure why I stuck it out as long as I did. It was a different group of boys. Most boys I related to were active in sports. The boys in Scouts were good guys, but they were not cut from the same badge.
I guess I liked Scouts for two reasons: I got more time in the gymnasium, which helped me work on my basketball skills. And I liked camping.
Our first year in Scouts, our leader was a nut-job. He used to tell us survival stories about how to catch and eat a crow if we ever got lost in the woods. Then one day he got in a knife fight in front of the post office. I don't know if he got charged. He almost died from his wounds, but I doubt Scouts Canada deemed him mentally fit to lead young boys in the woods after that.
Then we got a prison guard for a leader. No one else wanted to do it, so he did it so his son could still participate. He was a good guy. Very strict and by the book. I can't remember having any fun that year. He spent an entire evening trying to teach me how to tie a slip knot. I'm not stupid but when it came to knots, I was thick skulled. Just the thought of knots puts them in my stomach.
A new teacher came to our town who had extensive scouting experience. As he was trying to fit into the community, he took over the Scout Troop for my last two years. He was a great guy. In his early 20's, he hadn't started a family yet, so he had lots of time to coordinate camping trips. We went to various jamborees with other Scouts from all over the Maritimes and Maine. It was by far my favourite 2 years in Scouts.
Do you know the Scout motto?
On my honour, I will do my best.
I started in Beavers, went through Cubs and stopped after Boy Scouts. The program was strong in my town. We had over 30 kids in Cubs, aged 7-10 years old. The popularity of Scouts wasn't as strong. It probably had to do with the coming of age of a boy. We only had 6 boys in our troop. Scouts were for 11-15 year olds. When drinking, girls and video games became more important to most, some of us still preferred camping, hiking and outdoor adventure.
I'm not sure why I stuck it out as long as I did. It was a different group of boys. Most boys I related to were active in sports. The boys in Scouts were good guys, but they were not cut from the same badge.
I guess I liked Scouts for two reasons: I got more time in the gymnasium, which helped me work on my basketball skills. And I liked camping.
Our first year in Scouts, our leader was a nut-job. He used to tell us survival stories about how to catch and eat a crow if we ever got lost in the woods. Then one day he got in a knife fight in front of the post office. I don't know if he got charged. He almost died from his wounds, but I doubt Scouts Canada deemed him mentally fit to lead young boys in the woods after that.
Then we got a prison guard for a leader. No one else wanted to do it, so he did it so his son could still participate. He was a good guy. Very strict and by the book. I can't remember having any fun that year. He spent an entire evening trying to teach me how to tie a slip knot. I'm not stupid but when it came to knots, I was thick skulled. Just the thought of knots puts them in my stomach.
A new teacher came to our town who had extensive scouting experience. As he was trying to fit into the community, he took over the Scout Troop for my last two years. He was a great guy. In his early 20's, he hadn't started a family yet, so he had lots of time to coordinate camping trips. We went to various jamborees with other Scouts from all over the Maritimes and Maine. It was by far my favourite 2 years in Scouts.
Do you know the Scout motto?
On my honour, I will do my best.
To do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout
Law;
We had to say this motto at the beginning and the end of every meeting. I think it got engrained in our psyche.
Ever wonder who deserves the credit for who you are as a person?
I give majority of credit to my family. There are others places that deserve my attention. I am who I am today because of five channels: Home, Sports, Church, School and Boy Scouts.
I'm thinking my kids could use a good dose of Scouts.
Anyone else have good memories of Scouting?
Anyone else have good memories of Scouting?
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