We have playoffs for said CDL season tomorrow. We
just got bumped out of Tier A, by only a few wins. Seeing as how our team had to miss an entire night of play (an instant 15 losses), I'd say that we did pretty damn awesome. As a result, we landed in the top spot for the Tier B, with a chance to move on to the Tier A if we win all of B.
Historically, my team has had a problem dealing with the stress of playoffs. Even though we usually rank very highly, we seem to lose to teams we shouldn't be losing against in the playoffs. This season, I sent out an inspirational email for me team, in the hopes to get everyone's head in the right place for the tournament.
For some reason, I feel like posting it here.
In order to truly succeed, we have to believe we have already won. Not just say we do, but truly believe it. The good thing in this situation is, that's not even a stretch. Seeing ourselves winning Tier B is not a fantasy at all. It's a bloody reality.
The problem with us is that we are all decent human beings. We are the type of people who hold doors for people, say "thank you", and just generally make society function smoother for everyone we come in contact with. The only problem is that competitive sports are not like society. I really think, in seasons gone past, we have held the hypothetical doors open for the teams we have played against. We have self defeated ourselves so that other could go on. Yes, we are all still decent humans, and I do not suggest we change anything about how we act. What we need to change is how we think. About ourselves, and the teams we face.
This playoffs, we will make the other teams hold the hypothetical door open for us (and the physical too, if we have the chance, hehe). This tournament is ours, and all we have to do is accept that we want it, and simply take it. That's the mind set we must enter the gym with. All the anxiety and nervous energy will not be brought into the gym with us, because that is where we belong.
If we were suddenly put in the cock pit of an air plane and asked to fly it, I could understand some anxiety, confusion and doubt. But when a pilot enters the cock pit, and looks across the hundreds of buttons, throttles and levers, he or she feels right at home, because that's what a pilot does.
And winning Tier B is what we do. Our body language, and mind set should reflect this, and be projected to the teams we play. I want them to know we've won Tier B before we even play.
