Not a Team Player

This is difficult to try to express, and it will shock some especially in Australia, where we're known for our sporting prowess, right down from the recently deleted PM. It seems, after all this time and all these years, that I'm not a team player. I wasn't on team Australia, and I'm not going to be on any other team, either. If I go out of my way for someone, or something, it's because it's deserving; not because it tries to condemn me to death by Powerpoint.

I have played on a couple of teams in the past: I was on netball teams between the ages of 14 and 16. One was the Magpies. I was never a star player--arse too close to the ground--but it was a bit of fun on Saturdays. I never took it seriously. I knew who to throw the ball to, of course.

My team wore the black box pleats with the white short-sleeved blouses underneath, and they were my friends. We didn't win too many games, or at least I don't remember them, or the losses either. I'm assuming that's because we didn't set the world on fire. I remember the girls, though. I liked them and we shared some adolescent moments. I haven't seen most of them for forty years, but I remember them, and some of their secrets, and the fun we had together.

But I'm too old for teams now. I'm a team of one, just trying to get through this life as comfortably as possible. I'm not going to try to score goals so someone else gets the glory cup. I don't care about the cup. I never did.

I'll run (and I mean that metaphorically these days) for the ball, and throw it in the right direction--if I can remember which one that is--if the light is right, and it's interesting and fun. But don't expect me to get excited about the competition. I'll play the game, put in the game hours, but I'm not fronting up to the awards ceremony. What do those awards mean to me?

Today, an HR wonk showed me an extract from the series, "The Office" (Season 2 Ep. 2). It proved the adage that satire is always short of the mark because the target never gets the joke. It was this one.  (Just fast forward through the conversation between Dawn and the girl who's interested in Tim.) HR  used "The Office" to ask, with a straight face:"What could David have done better?" "How could Keith have prepared for the interview?". The point is, the premise is laughable, or would be if it wasn't taken so seriously. Keith puts in the hours. The Man is not paying for treasure. The man pays frugally for time, and makes a profit out of it, else Keith would be out of a job. Why make Keith jump through hoops. They employed him to do the accounts so he does the accounts.

Why should anyone else demand to know what Keith sees as his good or bad qualities. What's that got to do with the employment contract? Will the Man give Keith a raise if Keith convinces him he has very good qualities indeed? Keith wasn't employed because of his self knowledge but for his accountancy skills. Suddenly, though, it's it's an expectation that he should be able to talk about himself to be acceptable in the position. Isn't that like changing the rules after the whistle blows?