It was all good just a minute ago.
With their season on the line, the Toronto Raptors held a double-digit lead.
In the blink of an eye, that lead had been whittled down to three.
Suddenly, a jovial atmosphere in Scotiabank Arena had turned much more sombre.
As this scene unfolded on the floor below us, I turned to my buddy and asked him a simple question.
"Deep down, this is how you wanted tonight to go, right?"
His response was the most emphatic rejection I could have imagined.
“Hell no! I wanted to win by forty.”
Fair point.
Think about this scenario for a second.
Your favourite team has an important game on their schedule.
Instead of stressing every at bat, rebound or bounce of the puck, you are offered the opportunity to press a button.
This button will ensure that your team will jump out to an early lead and cruise to victory.
Let’s call it the “Easy Button” (an homage to the Staples ad campaign of the 2000s).
It’s an easy win. No stress. No emotional investment required.
Sounds tempting, doesn’t it?
While it doesn’t exist in the sports realm (yet), it’s a choice we are offered on a daily basis.
We live in the “Age of Convenience”, a time where we can literally press a button and have all kinds of wonderful things happen.
Don’t feel like cooking tonight?
Press a button and a burrito will be provided a private taxi ride to your doorstep.
Don’t want to leave the couch but need a new book, some dish detergent and cat litter?
Press a button and all will be at your doorstep is 46.7 seconds.
Have an idea for a post/story but don’t know where to start?
Don’t bother slogging through the process of drafts, edits, and rewrites.
Just press the “Easy Button” and let your favourite AI bot guide you to a finished product.
Sounds tempting, right?
If you look close enough, you’ll find a common denominator in each of the examples outlined above. Namely, technology allows you to outsource the effort required to complete the task.
This is fine if you don’t want to cook (or shop) after a hectic Tuesday at the office.
But creating something? Putting in the time and effort is a crucial part of the process.
“But Jeff, it’s just making my life easier. It’s not that deep. I take my idea, pop it into Claude/GPT and it spits out my outline. I’ll make a few tweaks and then it’s published. A finished product (with a little help) is better than an unfinished idea!”
As a first ballot inductee into the “Unfinished Ideas” Hall of Fame, I must admit that the idea itself is intriguing.
Maybe it will allow me to post more consistently, I think to myself.
A single question, however, snaps me back to reality.
Why do I create?
Everyone has their own reasons for creating.
For some, it is a profession. Others will use it to build a brand.
For me, I write to understand myself and my place in the world; to make connections between different topics and, mostly, because I genuinely enjoy it.
Pressing a button (and skipping the actual writing process) prevents me from achieving any of the reasons why I put pen to paper in the first place.
The similarities between the writing process (and creative process, in general) is very much like an important game when you skip out on the “Easy Button”.
You start with an idea and create an initial draft.
This is never going to be the finished product and it often, to put it mildly, sucks.
If you’re anything like me, this is the part of the process that is most difficult to reconcile any kind of future success from. It’s like falling behind 2-0 in the top of the first inning.
You let the idea marinate for a bit and previously unseen connections begin to form.
A series of rewrites and re-edits occurs, and the finished product is in sight.
(Your team has now tied the game up in the 8th inning – there’s hope again!)
But something just isn’t right. It’s missing that ONE thing. Without it, you aren’t sure it’s going to work.
It’s an involved process which takes place over days (and sometimes weeks, as this post has proven).
But you have to do it.
Why?
Remember, this is YOUR idea.
Outsource chunks of it to AI and it loses that human element. No longer is it truly your creation. The more you use it, the more of “Your Voice” it loses.
It becomes increasingly generic in tone and feel, which is the true hallmark of AI-assisted (and boring) creation.
The process is not easy, and it’s not meant to be easy. It’s meant to be a struggle.
As you go through these struggles, you’ll find that things start to click.
The chord or loop that’s created (almost accidentally) while trying to find the right vibe for a tune.
The way that the light shines on a painting when you examine it from a completely different angle.
That perfect connection between ideas that you finally stumble upon after weeks of rewrites.
It’s where the magic happens.
You’re not supposed to win every time. It wouldn’t be much fun if you did.
In sports, you choose (or have chosen for you) teams that you will develop life-long allegiances to.
These teams will repeatedly break your heart. If you’re lucky, though, they will occasionally provide moments of sheer joy.
Think of Chicago Cubs fans. They waited 108 years between World Series wins, experiencing some tragic heartbreak losses along the way.
I can’t imagine how satisfying the 2016 World Series win must have been for a lifelong Cubs fan.
As a sports fan, you just hope to have the same thing happen for your squad.
On the other hand, let’s look at the front runner (or bandwagon) fan.
You know the type – only cheers for whoever is winning in a particular sport. Think Dodgers + Patriots + Lakers + Real Madrid (and lives in Chicago).
It’s the equivalent of pressing the “Easy Button” every time.
If you know you’re going to win every time, wins begin to lose more of their meaning.
It becomes empty and boring.
Sidebar - for the 80s kids in here, it’s like playing Contra after you learned the “Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, B, A, and Start” cheat code which gave you 30 extra lives.
If we know that we aren’t destined to win every time we try something, we (hopefully) build some resilience.
Learning to lose (and lose gracefully) is a valuable lesson. Sports teaches us how to do this.
When you lose, what do you do next?
Do you quit and look for the easy way out? Or do you learn from your mistakes and work hard to fix them?
This is a lesson that I attempt to instill in my kids. It’s not easy when the “Easy Button” exists for so many things in today’s society.
Let’s pull this back to Game 6. No one pressed the “Easy Button” for this one.
From the moment that I asked my buddy the question, the game remained tight throughout the fourth quarter and into overtime.
The Cavaliers took a lead early in the extra session and, as the clocked ticked down on the Raptors season, the outcome did not look favourable.
Down two in the final seconds, R.J. Barrett had a chance to win it with a long three-pointer, but his shot hit the back of the rim.
In that split second, I had accepted my fate. Another Raptors season has ended.
Suddenly, I was enveloped by what seemed to be a sea of bodies. It felt like everyone in Section 309 had started an impromptu mosh pit.
The shot had gone in.
The Raptors ultimately lost Game 7 but Barrett’s shot was added to the list of “Where Were You?” moments in recent Toronto sports history.
Moments that are etched in history because of pivotal plays in Nailbiters.
Moments where the magic happened.
Moments you’ll remember forever.
I think about those fans who were in our section during Game 6.
We all began the evening as complete strangers. We left with the common bond of having shared that experience together.
So it’s a no to the “Easy Button” for me.
Give me the grind, the struggles and the occasional bright spots in my writing, DJing and beat making endeavours.
At the end of the day, they represent MY ideas.
It might not have landed for you but I can assure you that very few people (and no AI bots) are going to connect an RJ Barrett shot with the use of technology in the creative process.
I’m happy to see these ideas, my ideas, through the entire process: from initial thought to the finished product.
Same goes for sports.
You can keep the blowouts.
I’ll hold out for the magical moments that they put on shirts.
