We are about one month away from one of the most watched sporting events in the world. The World Cup is one thing. That international soccer audience is massive, but here in the U.S.A. we do things a bit differently. We’re football fans. The Super Bowl is upon us.
The National Football League is capped at 1,696 players. That’s a rarified group of athletes. All are exceptional at what they do. There is no dead weight at that level. Some are better than others, but they’re all better than you or me. They can throw harder and with greater accuracy. They can hit like a ton of bricks. They’re fast off the line and quick down the field. Their hands are like glue.
In their area of endeavor, they are better than most of the public at any aspect of the game. With only 1,696 slots available, the coaches and scouts can afford to be picky. They don’t want good players. They want great players. Hence, every team in the league is made up of amazing athletes who have their eye on the prize.
Winning the Super Bowl is the dream every player holds in their heart from Day 1 of their career through to the end of their final season.
Yet every one of those players steps onto the practice field with far greater frequency than they play games against competitors. They attend team meetings to discuss strategy. They watch videos of their upcoming counterparts. They watch videos of themselves looking for aspects of their performance they can improve on.
To be truly great it is imperative that every player and every coach puts focus on improving their performance before and during every game. They need to know the playbook forward and backward. They need to consider how they might deal with a broken play. They need to have their head in the game with as much intensity as they commit to their body.
Peak performance is what gets a team to the big game. There is no substitute for exceptionalism.
I mention this because in aviation we have a similar, although less competitive, process that we’re expected to follow. Training is essential for anyone wishing to obtain a pilot certificate. There are specific written standards we must all meet.
Whether your goal is to become a sport pilot or a highly professional Airline Transport Pilot, or anything in between, the standards for meeting that level of certification are clearly outlined.
If you can meet the qualifications, you earn the privileges that come with that ticket. That’s our Super Bowl. Meeting the standard well enough to be welcomed into the club.
There are fewer than 700,000 pilots in the United States. A number that ranks us well below the exclusivity of the NFL but leaves us solidly in the fraction of 1% of the overall population that enjoys the privilege of flight.
But, of course, privileges are balanced by limitations and responsibilities. While we aren’t expected to review film of our landings, discuss our willingness to take off under specific conditions, or defend our decision-making as evidenced in prior flights, we are expected to remain current. Better yet, proficient.
This is the problem general aviation faces on a daily basis. Far too many of us self-ascribe to a level of greatness we simply do not possess. Our rationale is too often that nothing bad has happened to us, ignoring the possibility that we simply haven’t fallen short enough of our responsibilities to bend metal or cause injuries — yet.
None of us is infallible. Yet relatively few of us take the opportunity to lean on our peers for insight and guidance. We consider the flight review to be an occasional burden we have to bear, preferably one conducted with a friendly CFI who won’t challenge us too much on the ground or in the air.
Imagine the reaction if an NFL player said, “I’m good coach. I don’t need to practice this week.”
That attitude wouldn’t fly in the big leagues. It shouldn’t fly at the airport either.
There is a misconception among many pilots that time in the game equals proficiency. The pilot who has been flying for 20 years is knowledgeable enough and experienced enough to blow right past any training being offered: “It’s not required and I already know everything I need to know.”
That is a dangerous attitude. What the FAA might refer to as a hazardous attitude.
It’s also a perspective a head coach might consider the precursor to a whole lot of time on the bench for a player. That arrogant player might even find themselves being cut from the team to make room for someone more focused on winning than whining.
Aviation is very much a team-oriented endeavor — even for those of us who fly out of grass strips in rural locations where opposing traffic is rare. Because rare doesn’t translate to non-existent. There are others flying around up there and it is up to each and every one of us to play nicely in a way that is predictable should we encounter another aircraft in flight.
Since we’re in the 1%, perhaps we should start to act like we’re in the 1%.
Shoot for excellence based on the values of a pro, not just a self-evaluated “good enough.” Attend a safety seminar or two each year — or more if you can. Fly with a CFI now and then to work on an area where you know you’re weak — even if you wouldn’t admit that weakness to anyone else.
We can all be better. Whether we’re gearing up for our one shot at a Super Bowl win, or a local pleasure flight with a friend, we owe our teammates and passengers the best performance we can give. Not just sometimes. All the time.
