Micro story 4: The game

He had to come up with a better idea but right now he was drawing blanks.

Sure, he could dash down the middle and hope that speed would be sufficient to overcome the defense robots. Or he could try using some of the older subroutines and see if they could catch the opponent by surprise. Ideally he would be able to call a technical timeout, huddle his team together and download a fresh batch of plays, perhaps retrofit a couple of the blockers with better armor, and start over. But there simply was not enough time.

What was also simple is that he was being flatly out played.

Even though he felt that being a couple of scores down, taking all into consideration, was a great achievement, he knew the press and the fans would not buy it. They needed this win. he needed this win.

He stared at the monitors before him for a while. The plan had been solid. They had taken into account all the longitudinal data on the opponent. They had placed the right mixture of personnel, robotics and equipment. It was a balanced plan. Still something was missing. Some spark, some…person.

He leaned forward and stared closely at the monitors. He touched the screen bringing up some stats boxes. All of a sudden he saw it. There it was.

He would consider it a flaw in his plan, but that is just because he was always hard on himself. Jenny would point out to him his brilliance in thinking quickly on his feet. But that would be later. Right now he sent a message to the coaches with his instructions. He knew they were not going to see it. But he also knew that, with the exception of Joe, who always argued about everything, still liked to inhale nicotine, and preferred to pace up and down the field and shout, risking life and limb, than to join the other coaches in the safety of the bunker. But he would do what he was asked to do. He always did.

As the coaches reported back with green lights, he called a timeout.

"What ridiculous thing is this? A timeout now?" Joe marched into the coaches’ viewing room. He paced up and down and cursed for a minute or so. He waited patiently for him to finish. As soon as the refs announced a timeout Joe stormed off to make the adjustments he requested. "He will be back," he muttered to himself. "He will shout some more," he sighed.

And the last few minutes of the game were played quickly and with devastating effects. The adjustments worked as he expected. His defensive bots nearly destroyed the opposition with their new patterns. The rest of the team, donning the heavier armor, was able to methodically score three times in rapid succession.

A much needed win. As he quit the game app he looked one more time at the background on his screen. Floating there were the words of old Napoleon Hill. He smiled to himself, how right he was! New plans. Sometimes they required going back to old methods.

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About spaceloom

An urban monk, and an experienced spiritual director with a Masters in Psychology. Married with two children. Want to know me better? Read my thoughts.
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