First of all, some logistics for everybody competing at Fairgrounds on Saturday night.
This one is a doozy.
Poker players like to say the hand begins before the cards are dealt. By the time the dealer shuffles the deck, reputation, confidence, previous encounters, emotional control, and table image are already influencing what is about to happen.
Pickleball is no different. Sun Tzu said it best: “Every battle is won before it is ever fought."
If we think the first rally of the first game is the first battle, it's going to be a long night.
Before the opening score is called, before anyone serves or pops up or hits out or into the net, there are already multiple battles taking place.
Saturday Night's Jamboree is designed to make us aware of these battles.
Veterans of Jamboree and El Camino understand “The Game Within the Game.” Beneath the score there are dozens of smaller contests unfolding simultaneously. Positioning battles. Anticipation battles. Confidence battles. Adaptation battles. Battles with our inner demons. Some of us are also intent to spend our night battling the Pickleball deities themselves.
Players who only see the score tend to get stuck.
But the score is only part of the story. Win enough of these hidden contests and the scoreboard usually takes care of itself.
“One Battle After Another” begins from the same place as The Game Within the Game, but asks a different question: What does it feel like to live inside one specific battle for a game?
The Game Within the Game is analytical. One Battle After Another is experiential. The Game Within the Game asks us to notice the hidden contest. One Battle After Another asks us to explicitly fight it.
By the time the opening score is called, many of tomorrow night’s battles will already have been won and lost.
For some teams, the competition will begin during warm-up.
For others, it began earlier this month. It will begin when a troop decides what colours to wear. It will begin the night before when we wrap a fresh roll of overgrip on our paddle handle and practice tracking balls in front of the mirror. It will begin when we set primary goals and secondary objectives for the competition and choose a set of mantras for the night. It will begin when we decided how we plan to adapt if things go badly. It will begin when we decide to breathe instead of panic.
Some of us will drive to the battleground, rehearsing who we will to become on Saturday. Some of us will arrive two hours early to practice. Some of us will sit quietly before the opening bell and visualize how we want to compete.
Some of us still aren't entirely sure who we are or how to do this.
That’s why we all show up. Some of us compete because we hate losing. Some because we love winning. But deep down, the kind of people who join teams and troops, practice together all month, and show up to a Jamboree on a Saturday night, are competing for something else.
We compete because we’re curious. We compete to figure out who we are. What puzzles have can we learn to solve? What breakthroughs can we make? Above all, what can we learn from our teammates — and our rivals? What will they recognize in us?
What version of ourselves emerge when things stop going according to plan?
What happens when the game we imagine collides with the game that is actually in front of us?
We’ve schedule an emergency pep with the coaches tonight at 7pm. We’ll give you clues about the contents of the “boxes and envelopes stuffed with battles” that will be delivered to your court throughout the night.