WHIPLASH IN REAL LIFE: HOUNDED BY AMBITIONS

Whiplash the movie came out in 2014. I saw it two days ago.

After I heard about it I waited to watch until it was unavoidable.

My takeaway? Don’t wait.

But watch it with a musician for the best experience. It’s not just for drummers.

The main question asked by Whiplash is how far can you push someone before they break, and what is the final straw?

It’s good question for baby boomers since we’re all had similar experiences and we can help others learn how to heal from being broken.

A good question, right boomers?

After all, we’re old enough to forgive those breakers from our younger years.

So, who did the breaking? I’ll start.

Communication At School

I took up the tenor sax in sixth grade. Why the big tenor and not the smaller alto sax? I don’t know.

What I do know is it was huge and came in a heavy case for a sixth grader.

My parents had musical hopes for their kids and bought a piano no one played. But it looked good; it pulled the living room together better than a nice rug.

And they bought me a saxophone. I played at school, I practiced at home. To show my music ambitions I even signed up for summer band.

One day the teacher decided I needed some extra attention. Call it a ‘teaching moment.’

But it wasn’t.

Instead, it was an excuse for an old man to rail on a student. Was I a great player with an unlimited ceiling? A natural? Someone who picked things up so fast I could play every other instrument?

None of that, but I showed up and honked along from the second chair. Or third.

The teacher halted class and made his way to my chair where he explained how I was ruining the musical experience of everyone in the band and why don’t I just go home if I can’t keep up.

He added a few more suggestions to be sure I got the message. What was I supposed to do?

I cried in summer band class, not because of the teacher’s words but because I was the worst horn man in the class and now everyone knew.

Whiplash has a similar scene, but a different outcome. For me, that was my last day, which was unfortunate. Apparently I had feelings.

Being hounded by ambitions became a familiar theme.

From Band Room To Wrestling Room Whiplash

Wrestling was the sport I was best at and I wanted to get better.

I was late to start as a sophomore and wanted to catch up. There’s an unwritten rule in wrestling: If you don’t start the day you’re born you’ll never be a champion.

The North Bend wrestling already had champions and legends by the time I showed up, along with a legendary coach.

A year later I was tagged as ‘Fresh Meat’ for the dual home meet of the year. I think it was supposed to be a promotion.

The team from the next town over had three good guys in the upper weights. I’d already lost to two of them, and the third guy always beat the other two, according to coach.

With that in mind, he juggled the lineup. I ended up going against their best guy so he wouldn’t beat our best guys.

Better to throw fresh meat at the lion instead of another lion.

2

I couldn’t get out of it and I was frightened.

My guy looked like he was thirty, had had a bad divorce, and joined a biker gang.

And he kept looking at me like he was pissed at drawing the scrub from the other team. Again.

Before heading out to the mat and face my destroyer, coach gave me a pep talk. It went like this:

“Try and not get pinned.”

I was less than inspired when I walked out under the lights, but I couldn’t just keep walking and go home. This wasn’t summer band.

Bailing out of a wrestling match in front of the home crowd would leave a mark.

What would be worse, running away or getting stomped and pounded by a crazy looking kid?

I decided to stick around and take my lumps. Was it worth it? Yes.

Vision Quest had nothing on this match.

Army Bootcamp Whiplash

I joined the Army after a year of college wrestling with the idea of joining the All Army Wrestling Team.

But first, you needed to learn the Army way of doing things, so they send you to bootcamp.

Since it was 1974 and the beginning of the All Volunteer Army, the Drill Sergeants made a special effort to kick ass so no one would think they were going soft.

You’d learn something one day and be expected to show proficiency the next.

If you didn’t, then a Drill Sergeant would get close enough so you could feel the spit while he screamed in your face and woodpeckered your forehead with the brim of his campaign hat.

I’ve never felt a more dramatic whiplash demonstration. Was it frightening? No.

2

If it seems odd that someone could withstand the onslaught of abusive language without flinching, here’s why:

The senior Drill Sergeant for my platoon took a shine to me from the start. He made me the Platoon Guide, the top dog trainee.

I was going to be the ticket to his next promotion if I turned out as great as he thought I could be.

He demoted me when I wouldn’t give the platoon captain the answer he wanted instead of the truth.

I went from Platoon Guide to Squad Leader.

The day after we were taught the manual of arms, the Drill Sergeant pulled me out in front of the platoon to show how it’s done.

That’s when I got my second demotion, a face full of spit, sore ears, and a line bruise on my forehead.

And I took it like a soldier. I felt like a legend to the others watching how it’s done.

What’s Your Whiplash Moment

Have you ever been encouraged to do something only to realize you’ve been set up to fail from the start?

How often do you address authority and come away successful?

When is the last time you stood up for somebody?

The last time you backed a bully down?

If you’re having trouble remembering, see the Whiplash movie.

It will all come back to you.