The abnormally unselfish basketball player
“When he is on the court, his teammates get better, often a lot better, and his opponents get worse…”
That’s what the indomitable Michael Lewis wrote about Shane Battier, who played in the NBA for 13 years and won two championships.
He was described as “at best, a marginal NBA athlete.” His personal stats were “unremarkable.”
But his plus-minus, a statistic that measures the team’s performance when the player is on the floor, was more than 3x the average. “He may not grab huge numbers of rebounds, but he has an uncanny ability to improve his teammates’ rebounding. He doesn’t shoot much, but when he does, he takes only the most efficient shots. He also has a knack for getting the ball to teammates who are in a position to do the same, and he commits few turnovers. On defense, although he routinely guards the N.B.A.’s most prolific scorers, he significantly reduces their shooting percentages.”
In basketball, there can be a tension between the performance of a star and of the team. Battier was described as “…the most abnormally unselfish basketball player he has ever seen… helping the team in all sorts of subtle, hard-to-measure ways that appear to violate his own personal interests.”
Lewis makes sure to flag that, “it is a mistake to see in his detachment from self an absence of ego, or ambition, or even desire for attention.” Even when “he could have shot the ball at will, he was more interested in his role in the larger unit.”
Spoiler alert: this isn’t a post about basketball.
It’s great to work with stars, hit the personal or team metrics, and get celebrated.
But as for me, I want to show up at work more like Shane Battier.