I was a “liquid assassin,” until I took a bottle of water to the knee, most of my shorts, and a good portion of my shirt. Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the last few days, you’ll know about the campus-wide tournament of Liquid Assassins.
Unfortunately, I was one of the first casualties on the first day of competition; naively hoping my attacker would wait until after I had finished my AP exam of the day to ruin my outfit. Let it now be known that the esteemed Will Howard shows no mercy.
The combination of being on constant lookout for any potential water-flingers and stressing out about the looming four-hour exam frayed my nerves to the point of paranoia –my elimination from the competition proved the tipping point. I couldn’t stop thinking about the injustice of the whole situation (I was quite distracted during the test –thanks, Will!), until I realized I was behaving just like the particular brand of Survivor competitors I so desperately loathe.
Russell Hantz was the greatest, along with most infamous, player the show Survivor has ever seen (Besides, perhaps, Boston Rob and Johnny Fairplay). But he didn’t win the game because his competitors didn’t treat it as one.
Yes, there’s a million dollar prize involved, but in the end, that’s all Survivor is –a game. And Russell played the game like no other. Why then did all this talent and effort go unrecognized? Those who voted against him failed to understand the genius of his gameplay –letting the chickens loose, backstabbing opponents right and left, burning socks, finding the immunity idol and replacing it with a fake one– and took personal offense.
“It’s just a game! Who cares?!?” I used to shout at the television –but the morning of my AP test, a mirror would have been more appropriate. I had worked myself into a complete mess over something that, in the grand scheme of things, really meant absolutely nothing. Yes, it was fun (While it lasted.) Yes, I wish I had been able to play the game longer (Or at least to have been able to see the attack coming). But it was just water, and nothing to become consumed by.
I’ve heard it said, “Expectations ruin the adventure.” I’m not saying not to expect things out of your life –please do, I think having a high expectation of oneself is the driving force behind improvement. But don’t give everything an equally great weight on your mind and emotions. To borrow the phrase: “Don’t sweat the small stuff” –cliché, but true. (These sayings have to start somewhere, you know.)
What’s the point, really? For the most part, we give way too much importance to the less important things in our lives.
Save your energy for the big, important challenges so that by the time you get to them, you’ll be able to tackle them head-on, armed to the teeth with all of the water-splashing equipment you can carry. In other words, you are forgiven, Will Howard. I commend you for your commitment to the game.
