Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
My nerves come flooding back. I take a deep breath and remind myself I know this. “Yes. When an individual joins a team, they become compelled to comply due to a common goal.”
“Where do the conflicting goals come into it?” a girl near the front asks.
I pause. “What do you mean?”
The first guy takes over. “Okay, so my football team, we want to win our games, yeah?”
“Of course,” I say, despite the feeling I’m walking into a trap.
“Except, I want to be the one who wins them. And so does our QB, and every other guy on our team. We all want to impress scouts … or girls.” He winks at the girl in the front. “I have people competing for my place on the field. We might all want to win the game, but we also want our individual wins.”
Ah … what he’s saying isn’t a complex theory, and I understand the words, but the motivations behind that mentality escape me. I subtly wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Umm … was there a question?”
“Yeah, how do they fit together?”
Okay, I can do this. I start to regurgitate the textbook to them. “It’s much simpler if you look at humanity’s tribe mentality in general. We seek out the strong to secure survival and focus on basic needs. Food, water, shelter—”
“Sex?” Foster’s friend cuts in.
My thoughts stall, my heart pounds, and that’s when the stammering starts. “W-well … I’m not so sure s-sex is essential to survival.”
“You’ve clearly been doing it wrong, then,” someone else says.
Or not at all.
My throat clogs up. “Moving on!”
“It’s a good question though,” a blonde says from the back of the hall. “Tribe, team, whatever. If people look to the strongest, how does it work on a team of alphas, like his football team?”
“Yeah,” the football guy continues. “We all think we’re the strongest. We all want to win—and not just games. We want the recognition, the title, the fans.”
“Umm …”
Sweet Jesus.
I can parrot a whole text back to the class, yet I can’t figure out how to answer a basic question. This, right here, is why I could never go into something like clinical psychology or even lecturing. As soon as I don’t know something, my mind goes blank. Completely empty. Everything I’d memorized disappears and I’m just staring back at a sea of expectant faces. My hand hovers over the prompt card in my pocket, but I know the answer I need isn’t on there. It’s suddenly becoming very clear to me that I’m in way over my head.
My focus flicks toward Foster, sure I’m going to see the smug expression of someone who was right.
Instead, he winks. “It’s like Zach just said. Individuals make the team better as a whole. I want to win out there, and when I’ve got that puck and a clear shot on goal, I make sure I don’t miss. Same with Jacobs. And Beck. And every other guy on our team. We want to shine, which pushes all of us to work harder. But as long as everyone on the team knows the W is more important than all the other shit, it works.”
“And that’s it for today,” Professor Lawrence says from behind me.
With the class’s attention on him I shift until I catch Foster’s stare. He didn’t have to do that. He could have let me struggle just to prove his point. And instead of directing a pitying look my way, he gives me a soft smile.
Thank you, I mouth.
His smile grows.
Professor Lawrence dismisses the class, and during the commotion he gives me a light pat on the shoulder. “Good practice.”
We both know he’s just being nice, but for some reason he thinks I can do this, and I really don’t want to prove him wrong.
Foster’s already out the door before I catch up with him.
“So it’s possible I didn’t know the answer.”
“I got that impression.” He shifts his bag on his shoulder. “You okay?”
“Not really. I don’t … I don’t understand. I mean, I conceptually understand the teaching, and all the words make sense, but the way you just explained it … how? How does that work?”
“We can talk about it later if you want. I’ve got to go meet with one of my professors right now.”
I can’t believe what I’m about to say. “I think I need help.”
He nods because he’s known that the entire time. “Come to the team’s first practice tomorrow night.”
“Oh, I don’t, I don’t think—”
“Trust me. Can you do that?” He starts to back down the hall.
I still don’t have an answer by the time he disappears from sight.
5
Foster
Our practices are usually closed to the student body unless given specific permission, but the first practice of the year is always open to the public.
Our coaches insist on having an audience the first time we hit the ice as a team because they’re convinced we try harder when we get the chance to show off in front of a crowd.