I suppose when you get right down to it, there are really only two markers of success in any given field: good results and good process.
Good results are what we’re all chasing after, of course. Let’s make no bones about it.
As former NFL coach Herm Edwards once famously opined: “You play to win the game.”
And to that, I say: Damn skippy, Coach!
But the results aren’t always going to go your way. None of us is going to retire from this game called life undefeated. You play to win the game, sure, but losses are inevitable. So, hanging your hat on results alone will only take you so far.
And that’s where good process comes in.
Because it’s true, looks aren’t everything… except for when they kinda are.
Case in point: the Toronto Maple Leafs’ abysmal showing in Game 5 against the Florida Panthers this past Wednesday, a brutal 6-1 loss that, if you can believe it, somehow looked even worse than the lopsided line score indicates.
My Canadian readers will no doubt already be well-acquainted with the myriad tortures Leafs fans endure at the hands of this dumpster fire of a team year after year. But for those of you fortunate enough to have little to no firsthand knowledge of the subject, watching this iteration of the Leafs is a bit like this:
The stats are ugly, no matter how you slice it:
They’ve made the playoffs in nine straight seasons, but have only advanced to the second round twice (eliminated in five games by Florida in 2023 and this year). They are 2-13 in games with an opportunity to close out a series. They have lost their last six straight winner-take-all matchups. Their best players routinely find ways to avoid the score sheet late-in-series; like, to a comical degree.
So look. The result in Game 5 wasn’t what you wanted. But that’s been the case for nine years in a row now. It’s rinse and repeat with these guys. So let’s set aside the disappointing result for the moment.
I’m not trying to suggest that nine years of unsatisfactory results would ever be easy to swallow, but there’s a world in which the Leafs play a respectable Game 5 on Wednesday and I don’t contrive this excuse to write about them to sublimate some of my frustration in anticipation of what will surely be an excuriating Game 6 tonight.
No, the real killer isn’t that they lost the game—and if they go on to lose the series (as I imagine they surely will at this point), it won’t be their failure to reach the Conference Finals that pains Leafs fans either—but rather how they looked while losing. Which was, pardon my French, absolutely fucking putrid.
This is particularly true of Auston Matthews, Toronto’s team captain and the highest-paid player in the league (a stud who once scored 69 goals in 81 games but who has yet to light the lamp in five tries against the Panthers), and Mitch Marner, a homegrown phenom who is both an alternate captain and consummate playmaker. These guys are supposed to be the ones driving the bus. But, as has been the case year in and year out with these guys, when the going gets tough, they’re nowhere to be found. For all of their regular season brilliance (which is considerable), they just can’t seem to find that extra gear when it matters.
Frankly, they look like they don’t care enough. Which is a wild thing to say about any professional athlete, but is this what it’s supposed to look like?
Are these the faces of a couple of guys who’d fight their own mothers just for a chance to hoist Lord Stanley’s mug?
For Leafs’ fans, the unique tragedy of this season is that almost everything else about the team really does look different, for the better, this time around. They’re deeper, more defensively sound, and have better goaltending than ever before. But none of that has mattered because the core of this team lacks those ephemeral qualities possessed by champions.
I get why the pundits typically shy away from such talk. It’s terribly unquantifiable for one. And yet we all know a champion when we see one, don’t we?
Because champions look a certain way. They carry themselves after a fashion. And comport themselves differently than we mere mortals.
So I’m not trying to take anything away from Florida. They’re the defending champs, and they look like it. They eliminate space. They roll heavy, applying pressure up and down the lineup. They have a plethora of guys who can put the puck in the back of the net. Their goalie has been there and done it before, and looks to have woken up after a sluggish start. And oh—their best players have been, for the most part, their best players.
So it’s little wonder that Leafs’ fans are pissed and demanding change, real change, after almost a decade of grossly embarassing efforts.
When the results aren’t there and it looks this bad, that’s when you know you’re in real trouble...
As you may recall, I’ve been working on the first draft of a novel-length project for some months now. This week, the draft was supposed to reach and surpass the 40k-word mark. Instead of reaching that milestone, however, I’ve decided to stop and begin again.
Rather than be destroyed by this “setback,” as I feel I surely would have been in the (very recent) past, I am instead begrudgingly excited for the opportunity to take another run at this thing now that I have a better idea of what I’m working with.
By applying a few major changes to my approach (namely by switching up the POV and narrative perspective, while also cleaning up the plot and cast of characters a bit), I hope to be able to see the narrative through to some sort of conclusion.
Where it goes from there is a problem for another day.
Again, results aren’t everything.
What I’m here to celebrate today, at least when it comes to myself (to say nothing of my favourite hockey team), is how the process is looking right now. And it looks better, feels better, is better than it ever has been before.
Starting over, in this case, feels very much like success. A victory of process, if not of results.
Next week, after I’ve taken some time off to let myself marinate in the desired changes, I’ll be right back to cranking out at least 500 words a day.
I was chatting with a good friend recently, and he said, “You haven’t written anything in awhile.” Which isn’t the case at all. I’m writing all the time. But I know what he means.
Despite how much time I spend writing each day. There’s just not a lot of it that I can show you right now, for various reasons.
Ironically, though, I take that as yet another sign of significant progress on my part. It takes a level of confidence that I have never before possessed to take the swings I’ve been taking lately. I used to be so self-conscious that I’d never let a project take this long. I’d never attempt something so ambitious. And I’d never let the silence linger. I’d force out something lukewarm just because I was uncomfortable and fraught with worry. I felt like I had to constantly prove myself.
Now, I know there’s nothing to prove to anyone. There’s just work to be done.
If that sounds like wisdom, then chalk it up to having walked the Path of Practice for some time now.
I would never have discovered such a truth otherwise.
If I can remain consistent, the good results will come. At least that’s what I have to believe. Eventually, good process will yield good results.
To that end, there are stories on the horizon, believe it or not.
I now have a second short story making the rounds at various literary establishments! It’s a supernatural horror with psychological elements, titled “a habitation of cruelty,” clocking in at around 4,700 words. I’m super proud of it, and I’ll be excited to share it whenever I can.
If I can’t find any takers willing to pay for first rights, I’ll publish it here myself. (And there’s a good chance I’ll have to do so because the story features graphic violence and apparently that’s literary kryptonite.)
By the way, I appreciate your patience in waiting on these stories while I take the opportunity to shop them around (I’ve received two rejections on “The Second Pair” so far, which elated me, because that means I now have official at-bats to my name and can call myself a Big Leaguer!).
But it’s puck drop on Game 6 in just a few hours, so I’m going to wrap this up and go find a nice quiet place where I can sit and enjoy the sunshine, and the birdsong, and the verdant perfume on the air, before those boys in blue break my heart again.
PROVE ME WRONG, FELLAS!
I DARE YA—I DOUBLE DOG DARE YA!
Till next time, friends,
c.d.
I can hear the shift and confidence in your voice and it’s exciting. To witness the transformation that’s taking place…is both inspiring and exhilarating.