In the field of journalism, having a competitive personality is a must.
I’ve never really considered myself to fall in that category, though. Sure, I played Diablo 2: Lord of Destruction for my entire high school career, thriving to get better in order to slay the best.
I even dabbled in StarCraft: Brood War in efforts to prove my strategic intellect was superior to that of someone from across the world.
In grade school I was the self-titled fastest kid in town, and, despite my size, I purposely got into playground fights to show that I could contend with the biggest kids.
Okay, maybe I am a little competitive. But is there really anything wrong with that? Without a drive to be better than the person next to you, what do you end up doing? Flipping burgers?
I guess it’s possible to be the rootinest tootinest McDonald’s burger maker on the block (a title I would actually hope to attain one day), but there doesn’t seem to be much glory in it.
In the last year, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m competitive. I lack that drive when it comes to my school-work (don’t get any ideas, readers), but I try focus my energy into improving my abilities in things that interest me.
For instance, just this past Saturday, Oct. 6, I got into a huge debate with my best friend about the difference between being accurate and precise. A fight we determined depends on context.
Not 15 minutes later, we were arguing about who the better pool player was—resulting in 20 consecutive games to decide a victor.
It was 11-9. I messed up a break.
Not the point.
The point is: Without the drive to compete and improve, you might want to reconsider your priorities.