The Recipe for Something Special

By David Corelli 

It can’t be built. Only nurtured and respected.

Anticipation. A familiar feeling of excitement. An ending to be written.

There exists a certain number of cultural events so special that they are in a hemisphere all of their own. Scratch that – they are on an entirely different planet.

This weekend, as March Madness sets to pen the end of its 2016 tale, while The Masters cracks the cover on another volume in its legend, it is an apt time to reflect on these truly special properties and what they mean.

Of course there is each event’s history. We celebrate such events in the exuberance of their legendary tales. We yearn for this to be the year we witness history being written first hand.

In a hyper-connected economy, we drive for fast paced, deliver more, grow faster, create results.

And yet the recipe for something special is quite opposite.

It requires patience – to build a legendary history, it takes decades to let those stories build themselves. We cannot manufacture heritage.

It requires discipline. Discipline to not over extend. It’s tempting to want to take this specialness and try to replicate it in other business verticals. But it’s in scarcity that we our desire for more builds.

It requires uncertainty. The uncertainty of what’s coming, only matched by the firm trust that whatever it will be, it will likely be spectacular.

Sometimes, I reflect on if our business culture of today will allow us to create anything this special. Rightly or wrongly, we demand immediate results over nurture.

I reflect on how the NHL’s Winter Classic has morphed into the Stadium Series – one unique event is now becoming ubiquitous. Not wrong, but a very different business model. Driven likely by impatience to show results and growth. I’ll always wonder if they had something special there. We will never know.

This week, I will get to watch a group of young athletes cut down the nets with tears of joy. I will get to watch someone raise their arms in euphoria as Jim Nantz softly calls history in my ear. And I will be making sure to stop and be present with that feeling of goosebumps I get along the way.

After all, it’ll be another 365 days until I can get them again. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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