Test vibes vs game-time vibes: channeling my inner polymath
In tennis, like business and life, perfection is impossible. So why do we often find ourselves striving for it?
I recently watched a clip of Roger Federrer deliver the 2024 Dartmouth Commencement Speech. Fed’s so iconic he’s reached that famed mononym status (think Prince, Madonna, Beckham).
At the height of his career, he was at the top of the tennis game: he’d won 80% of the 1,526 singles matches he’d played.
Here’s the kicker: in any given match, he’d won just 54% of the points.
Even top-ranked tennis players win barely half of the points they play.
When you lose almost every second point on average, you learn not to dwell on every shot. In tennis, like in any sport, failure is unavoidable. It’s literally part of the game.
You have the vision to be great, the mission to win the match, but it’s the singular focus on each individual point that matters building up to a game-by-game win.
Letting go, and shifting focus to the next shot requires immense mental discipline.
I used to play tennis, at a pretty good competitive level. I picked up the racket again recently after a 20 year hiatus, and in one of my first games my serve struck my doubles partner on the head (he was standing at the net to defend the return shot - not his partner’s serve).
Alas, it would not be the last time I struck someone with my serve, because the fear of hitting someone again played like a repeat reel in my head every time my service turn was up, and perversely honed my accuracy.
This is why the Fed clip struck a nerve with me. Tennis is a fertile testing ground for regular failures, mental discipline and learning not to dwell on every shot (or in my case, one very memorable shot).
Surprise surprise, it turns out that life has a way of helping you learn a lesson anywhere it can.
Whether that’s on the tennis court, in a presentation, an interview or our relationships. The lesson is the same, it’s just the context that shifts.
Part 1: are you acing a test, or playing the game?
In recent months, I’ve been in pitching mode: I’ve done around 10 mainly for tech companies looking to grow and navigate the uncertain economic climate.
A pitch can be an exciting opportunity. But, if your head isn’t in the game, it can mimic a test or exam: bringing with it the fear of failure and and potential to ‘get it wrong’.
In a recent pitch to global a SasS business, I was faced with an unusual proposition: would I be happy for someone to pitch our business to a group of investors, on my behalf? I’d have the opportunity to bring them up to speed…but it might only be over email.
Facing a panel of 4 people I’d only just met, my gut was screaming “no, don’t have someone else pitch for you!” and yet, in this instance I held back, afraid to come off as too bold or dissenting. I found myself saying things I didn’t agree with, trying to make the best of a less than ideal situation (a situation I didn't even want).
So why did this happen?
On that particular day, my head wasn’t in the game. There were a few big stressors at play, and in that moment, the pitch wasn’t an exciting opportunity, it became a test and I became a student.
If you’ve come from environments where hierarchy, micro-management or correctness are hardwired into daily interactions, these situations can feel deeply challenging. A tightrope walk between being ‘agreeable’ and having a bold perspective.
The post-pitch feedback I got? We wanted to hear more of your perspective. You were too agreeable. I knew it before I’d even left the room - I knew it as soon as the words were taking shape out of my mouth, because it didn’t even feel like me.
Part II: where bravery lives
These are the moments where bravery live - right there in this gut feeling that says “I know my stuff, I'm adding to this back and forth conversation, even if we don’t have the same perspective on the position.”
Having a bold perspective doesn’t mean it’s controversial, or you’re making a big stand, or a dramatic show. It’s usually more subtle and takes shape in seemingly small decisions we make:
choosing to stay quiet
blunting the edges of our response to provide an answer we think someone might be looking for, rather than what our gut might be telling us
agreeing with someone else’s position, when we really don’t.
Test vibes vs game vibes
It’s playing it safe on the court, rather than playing the point you want to play - you can play. In a work context you can think of it as channeling ‘test’ vibes vs ‘game’ vibes.
Test vibes means playing it safe, trying to get it right or perfect. Test vibes are a distorted echo of what we think others want to hear. Test vibes get us playing ‘small’ - because they narrow the opportunity to add any real value. And it’s a complete misread of the situation - because there is no answer for you to ‘get right’.
On the other hand, game vibes channel agility, creativity, collaboration and resilience. Game vibes mean seeing the situation as a series of building blocks, an exchange of ideas, a back and forth.
The opportunity for collaboration exist even in a pitch or interview. Game vibes are essential in a world that’s becoming less linear, with more grey zones, accelerating change and polycrises because no-one has the answers.
I asked a global marketing expert about this recently: do you ever slip into test vibes and if so, how do you stop? We discussed the SaaS pitch situation. Her reponse? I see you…and I resonate with this tension.
Again, someone who is smashing it on the world stage also slips into test vibes from time to time. Her advice:
The strength is in being unapologetically you—knowing that your perspective holds value because it’s rooted in your expertise and experience, not because it’s infallible.
Not because it’s infallible - boom. This sentence jumped out. Having the answers, being infallible, perfect or whatever word you want to use channels test vibes. Student / teacher. Exam. Right or wrong.
I’m invited into the room / project / pitch because there isn’t a clear answer to the challenge or opportunity to be explored. Answers are for Google.
I’m in the room because something needs to be explored, shaped, looked at from a different angle, knitted together. A new product, idea, step forward. The audience isn’t looking for a distorted echo bounceback, but an authentic voice that’s rooted in my experience.
Part III: a creative reframe
Reframing the possibility of being wrong / not passing the test into an opportunity to be curious, rather than defensive is an unlock. In this reframe, disagreement invites another question, probing a little deeper, opening up a dialogue to think more critically.
Why is a reframe important? Because there’s nothing cheerleader-y or Polyanna-ish about it. When the ground feels shaky, a pep talk feels inauthentic and unbelievable. It also has no hope of out-debating the chatter in your head.
You need to find a way to see the situation differently.
The creative process reframe goes something like this: your perspective is a creative building block for others to push off or add on to, a spark for innovation rather than conflict. Like lego.
That’s strategic value.
It’s not a straight line process - it’s messy, back-and-forth, experimental but there’s forward motion. It’s playing the point, rather than watching the game unfold from the sideline commentary box and obsessing over the replay reel.
Invite your inner polymath to the table
On a short plane trip from Spain to Sardinia 8 years ago I devoured a 65 page book called A Technique for Producing Ideas by James Webb Young, published in 1965.
At the time I was involved in a creative project, working with writers and designers. We were developing a new wine product and the creative execution was the majority of the work. This was new, and I wanted to learn more about where ideas came from, whether some people were creative and others weren’t.
Creativity is often bound in myth and legend - but Webb describes the idea-generating process in almost dry terms.
According to Webb, an idea occurs when you bring together new and old elements. How skilled you are at doing this is a function of your ability to see relationships, and bring them together.
Regardless of the idea, he espouses a 5 step process:
Gather material
Work material over intensely in your mind
Step away from the problem
Allow the idea to come back to you naturally
Test your idea in the real world and adjust it for feedback.
This process is so simple it’s disarming. And in my experience, it’s right on point.
It all starts with the inputs - and this is where the value of diverse experience, perspective and the ability to knit them altogether crystallises.
When you look at the problem-solving process in this way, you see myriad options rather than right / wrong. I see opportunities to create and build.
It’s a creative reframe that can help you channel your inner polymath in those situations where the context screams ‘test’ but the reality is an opportunity for collaboration.
