Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Passion My Arse!

You can blame The Atheist at AYALAC for getting me into this rant, though to be fair it has been building for some time. Deep breath, here goes.

Passion is for the bedroom not the sports field. Any cliche spouting halfwit can tell you he is passionate about something. So bloody what? If passion was the essential ingredient we would damn near all have Olympic medals and world champion status. In the '90s we had to "strive for excellence" now in the '00s we must be passionate about what we do - instance Peter Moores, Graham Henry and just about every plonker who applies for a job these days.

What is the point of being passionate if you have no idea how to achieve your goals. Get some skills, develop a plan, be bloody cunning and make sure you win. Old Andre pictured above wears his heart on his sleeve but that doesn't get him any wickets - that takes skill and perseverance - if it just took the ability to shout at people I would have more 1st class wickets than Murali and Warne combined.

Remember, if someone tells you they are passionate they had better be about to stick something cute and wet in your ear, failing that find someone with more brains and less heart.


The Atheist said...

Yes! You are quite right!

I hate passion in all (most) its forms.

Can't you just be engaged by not emotionally dependent on the outcome of the match? Can't you just like it a bit, but not as much as, say, having a lovely cup of tea?

Hear hear for realistic cricket!

Mr D said...

ah now a lovely cup of tea - for that I would kill.