Friday, January 9, 2009

The Crazy Game

A slowly growing number of people is screaming "foul play" but the bullied side is too weak to fend back and it can't attack the referee or create a new match. The rules of the game are lopsided, and spectators are observing the contentious duel between the two sides. Some spectators are rooting for the bully (and for the referee) consciously and eagerly; while others are silent ever hoping not to be seen as spoiling the match. Some in the audience are mystified by how much the odds are stacked against the bullied side, while others watch and comprehend nothing about the commotion of the match.

Many players are injured, and as the toll of casualties intensifies so too does the excitement of the crowd in the stands, or those tuned into the radio or the television set. Sooner or later, the mixed crowd begins to show hostility towards one another in the stands, while many others are clueless or apathetic. The cameras, pens, and keyboards are all too happy to capture these moments, conveniently overlooking the reason why such ruckus was created and how it spread in the first place.

When the wise among the observers collect themselves, they plan to establish some fact-finding body. But they lead themselves farther from the truth and any measured appreciation and response when they find in the bullied side an easy target. Who knows what kind of pressure this body is exposed to in the supposed "safety" of closed doors. Money, intimidation, promises?

But how much can the bullied offer to counter its relatively negligible status and position? The bullied players has found it hard to get along with one another anyway. Some of them begin to take on the demeanor of their stronger opponents, but they fail to create as much impact in denting their opponents. And enough members of the weak team---including the managers, coaches, and other administrators----have been so enthusiastic towards particular interests that their maneuvers have awaken the suspicion (and even animosity and ill will) of colleagues. Perhaps better contracts are in the works? More enticing salaries, a greater control over the affairs of the organization, a greater say in writing and executing the penned markings in the strategic playbooks? Or even prospects of a lucrative merger?

As for the bullying side and it supporters, they keep pushing their way. They do this with a narrow-minded, short-term assumption that they will remain indefinitely invincible, indefinitely unbeatable, indefinitely untouchable. While the entirety of the playing field where everyone else is a dispensable "fixture" and the space itself is exclusively their domain. They cannot so much visualize that their methods, mannerisms, and conduct are fostering a slow alienation for them. They don't want to understand they risk being transformed from strong, admirable competitor to simple ogres that can do little more than to flex muscles. By then, however, it may be too late to act: if the ogres become too much of burden to bear by the others, the ogres face suspension from the field.

The game, as it exists, reasonably cannot continue like this forever. No one wins in this scenario. The weakest and softest certainly don't. Not the bullying side, not the referee, nor the spectators. But, perhaps, the game itself will be the biggest loser of all---relinquishing its magic appeal, its sportsmanship and legitimacy, its received reverence.