Mom vs. Meltdown

If you were on this planet during the last two days, you probably heard that Serena Williams, undoubtedly one of the best tennis players ever, had a meltdown on Saturday night while competing in the US Open.  Her profanity-laced explosion occurred after a line judge called Williams on a foot fault during a critical moment in her semi-final match against come-back mom, 2005 US Open champion, Kim Clijsters.

What got lost in the deluge of F-bombs Serena poured on the judge, and her resulting forfeit of the match, and the $10K fine and the storm of media/blogger attention, was that Clijsters had only just returned to professional tennis this past May after having a baby two years ago.

Their match was a study in contrasts throughout – Serena was often angry, foul-mouthed, and volcanic (not just after the controversial call) whereas Kim was calm, cool and playing what she twitted was “the best match of my career.”  If you follow tennis, you know that Serena’s temper is well-known; in fact commentators like John McEnroe (a tantrum master himself) have often remarked that Serena has been able to channel her anger into a come-from-behind win.  Clijsters on the other hand, wasn’t particularly known for outbursts, although before she left tennis to have her daughter, she was occasionally heard to complain that she didn’t really enjoy the grind and stress of the professional tour; that she “wasn’t enjoying it.”

Generally, I’m inclined to believe that in high pressure situations at work (and trust me, professional tennis is work!) most of us have the capacity to “lose it” like Serena did.  The stories about CEO’s, managers and even employees going completely gonzo are legion – most workplaces have a collective memory of one or more of these cringe-making events.  And yet I think we’ve all met at least one manager or supervisor who could keep their heads while everyone else around them was losing theirs.  These calm, focused people are almost universally held in the highest esteem, and if they leave the company, everyone sees it as a great loss, often chanting the mantra “this place will never be the same without them.”

How does this happen?  How are some people able to draw deep from the well of emotional intelligence during a crisis while others revert to infancy?

There’s a part of me that thinks a few lucky people are simply wired from birth to calmly and effectively respond to major crises; while another part of me desperately hopes that this incredibly valuable skill can be learned.  I’m sad to say, I definitely didn’t get that skill at birth.  However, I’m often called upon by clients to help with situations where people have lost control and been abusive and I’ve been able to mediate a successful, effective resolution. I guess I’ve learned how to keep my cool when I don’t have any “skin in the game,” or as my Navy buddies say, “a dog in the fight.”

Unfortunately, most of us are forced by sheer dint of employment to play in this life-long game called work.  Occasionally, we find ourselves in a high-stress situation, like Serena did, where totally losing it completely seems like something we just are driven to do.  In her case, she forfeited the match while Clijsters kept her cool.  Kim went on to win the Championship and after the award ceremony, her 2-year old daughter came down onto the court to play with the bright silver cup mommy had just won while all the world smiled. An incredible moment of sheer joy for all.

So, it makes me wonder: has anything measurably good ever resulted from a manager or employee completely losing control at work?  I kinda doubt it.

Comments

[Pedro S. Silva II]

As a person who keeps my cool most of the time, I can say that I believe the ability can be nurtured. I was not raised to be calm and have seen many examples of contrary behavior. Although, I believe that there is a time and a place for blowing your lid, I taught myself to have a 2 second delay before I respond to almost anything. Beleive me it comes in handy. If after those 2 seconds, I still decide to flip out, I know 2 things.

1. It is my choice to lose it so I cannot blame anyone for the consequences.
2. My display of emotion will serve more than just my own selfish motivation to have a situation go my way.

I believe that the ability to totally snap and go beserk has a purpose. Otherwise it would never have developed. The energy that comes from it, however, should be focused and aimed where it can do the greatest good and minimal harm.