It takes a village to do just about everything. Wouldn’t it be nice if your village were populated with villagers you had selected based on skill levels that had been proven on game tape and then further tested and probed?
Yes, it would be, so let’s steal from the NFL draft.
For example, I could use a really good quarterback. I need someone who can yell exactly what I need to do next into my ear, all day long, without ever getting hoarse. I could get rid of my rainbows of sticky notes, and just have someone transmit the play calls from God or my boss or my husband or whoever.
I would really appreciate a solid running back. I need someone I can hand off an errand, a work deliverable, or some other task to, with complete faith that he will just barrel his way through any obstacles that may present themselves. Don’t get sidetracked by that phone call, watch out for that email. There’s the deadline, now meet it.
When I want a more dramatic moment, I would turn to my wide receiver. I need someone who can pull magic out of thin air. No more awkward pauses as I search for an answer. Bam – my wide receiver has just fielded your question by plucking a beautiful retort out of the sky.
Plus, I’m confident a high-caliber wide receiver would stop me from spilling coffee on myself when I get out of the car.
Of course, I would get nowhere without a strong offensive line. I need someone who makes sure I never get knocked back, or rushed. Someone who sees the thing that’s about to derail me before I see it. Someone who makes squatting look like an art form.
But I know there will be times when the line breaks and the coverage collapses. That’s when I want my defense to step in and protect me.
I would consider a strong safety a real prize. I need someone lurking in the backfield, waiting for the smart aleck who thinks he’s gotten by me. As fast as a track star and as strong as a truck, he is the one I rely on when it looks like all hope is lost. He saves me and then he smiles at me and then I wonder why all safeties also look like they stepped directly out of Vanity Fair.
That does not mean I don’t appreciate the defenders down in the trenches. I need someone who pushes back on whatever is trying to advance into my territory. Someone whose mission is to guard that part of my life that I’ve marked as sacrosanct. Someone who I can blame if, say, I want to get a full night’s sleep but then the cat decides to play Thunderdome on the stairs.
The NFL doesn’t really draft for special teams, but I would. I need someone who is equal parts sprinter and gymnast for those times when only a breakneck attitude will do. Like when the line at Starbucks is twice as long as the time I have to stand in it.
Perhaps the most important position I’d draft for, though, is the kicker. I need someone who doesn’t flinch in the face of oncoming traffic, or an expiring clock, or a tied score. My kicker will put us back in the game, even if it’s by the skin of our teeth. He’ll sit by himself at the end of the bench, and he’ll scowl into the little net on the sidelines, and he’ll lose his hair before everyone else on the team. But then he’ll make everyone ashamed for counting us out.
In my draft, we wouldn’t perform Wonderlic quizzes or any other type of test that rhymes with Heimlich. We would test for the exuberance of touchdown dances, the enthusiasm of huddle dances, and the effortlessness of first-down dances. Because if you can’t electrify me with your dances, then you surely won’t encourage me through an entire day.
Also, in my draft we’d find a way to make you want to work for free.