The Cyclones locker room boiled over with high spirits through most of this season whenever the team won a game, so much so that it was sometimes hard to conduct interviews because of all the noise.
Players talked loudly with each other, laughed a lot, and played Ping-Pong on the table set up in the middle of the room. The win brought a sense of accomplishment and joy.
Losses were anything but — I didn’t even have to see the game to know the team lost. All I needed to do was enter the locker room for a second and listen. No music. No laughing. No bouncing of Ping-Pong balls.
The difference was astounding. It seemed to me that the players acted like winning was a rare event meriting a party. It was almost like they were surprised they won and they thought they had better celebrate before they lose the next one.
I could easily relate to those feelings when I first arrived in Brooklyn. Success in writing a good recap or a good story of any consequence came sparingly. Adjusting to the style of the paper was more difficult than I expected. So the first time I heard my editor tell me my story was good, I almost immediately called home and told my mom the whole story. The amount of relief and joy that it gave me was a real surprise.
Each success that came after became a brand-new celebration — a moment of absolute accomplishment. I may have even raised the volume of my music a little bit to match the added spring to my step on the way home.
The Cyclones players had their longest win streak of the season this week and are, far and away, the hottest team in the league. They won five straight, hit four home runs, and shut out two of the five opponents. But something other than being on the winning side more often has changed as well: the team’s overall attitude.
There was something different about the locker room on Monday night when I walked in for the interviews. I realized I could actually hear what the guys were saying. The music wasn’t on and the players didn’t act like they had just won the lottery. It was business as usual. Now, don’t get me wrong, these guys were happy, but winning games had become the expectation, not a pleasant surprise.
Now, by no means have I become a great award-winning writer, but the attitude has changed. I don’t take every good story as its own celebration. Writing a good story is no longer a relief or a feel-good surprise. It’s become my personal expectation.
The dizzying stars are gone from mine and the players’ eyes and we can see that the goal isn’t just to win the next moment, but to change into a better professional.
And maybe through it all, our music will be played at the same volume.
Scott Hansen, an intern from Brigham Young University, will be comparing his life to those of the Cyclones all season long.
