You Are Not Watching the Game.
Criticism or curiosity. Only one helps you grow.
There is one thing about this profession that I still cannot get over.
I sit down in front of a screen, any screen, to watch a game, a race, a ceremony. And within seconds, I am no longer a fan.
I am working.
I look at the camera coverage. I notice the replay choices. I suffer when something goes wrong on screen. I voice my frustration with a director’s decision, even though I know that directing live television is one of the most complicated jobs in the world, and I might not be able to do it better myself.
If you are in this business, you know exactly what I am talking about.
You Are Not Alone
I have talked to hundreds of colleagues about this over the years. I have read comments on previous editions of this newsletter about it. The conclusion is always the same.
We all do it.
Your partner is next to you enjoying the match. Your kids are screaming at the screen. And you are sitting there, arms crossed, analyzing a camera cut that lasted half a second too long.
It is almost involuntary. Your brain has been trained to see what most people will never notice. That is not the problem.
The problem is what you do with it.
The Thin Line
There is a thin line that separates two very different habits. On one side, criticism. On the other, professional curiosity.
They look similar from the outside. Both involve noticing what happened on screen. Both involve having an opinion.
But they could not be more different in what they do to you.
Criticism Is an Empty Exercise
Let me be direct about this.
Criticism, by itself, is an empty exercise that damages the person who does it.
It does not help you grow. It does not teach you anything you did not already know. And it does not improve your standing in the industry.
What it does is something worse.
If you make a habit of criticizing other people’s work, your colleagues notice. They hear you tear apart a show during a dinner. They listen to you pick apart a director’s choices in a production meeting. And they start thinking one thing:
If this person criticizes everyone when they are not around, they will do the same with me.
That is how you damage relationships without even realizing it. That is how you build a reputation you never intended to have.
I wrote about protecting your reputation in TMB #143, "Don’t Burn Your Bridges." This is the quieter version of the same problem. You are not burning a bridge with a dramatic exit. You are eroding it, one comment at a time.
Become a Student of the Show
Now here is the other side of that line.
Instead of criticizing, you study. Instead of judging, you learn.
When you watch a broadcast as a student, three things happen:
You learn from what others are doing. Every show is a masterclass if you pay attention. That creative camera angle you noticed? That transition that surprised you? Someone made that decision under pressure, in real time. Understanding why they did it is worth more than pointing out that it did not work.
You share your learnings and grow with your colleagues. When you bring observations to your team, not complaints, but observations, you start conversations that make everyone better. "Did you see how they handled the VAR review on Saturday? That replay sequence was tight." That is a conversation that builds people up instead of tearing them down.
You understand how fans experience the broadcast. This one is easy to forget. We are so deep inside the machine that we lose sight of the person at home on the couch. Watching as a student helps you reconnect with the audience perspective, which is the entire point of what we do.
The Hardest Part
I will be honest with you. There is something even harder than going from critic to student.
It is learning to be a fan again.
That is what I am trying to do right now. To sit down in front of a race or a match and just enjoy it. No analysis. No frustration with the director. No mental notes about the graphics package.
Just the game.
It is incredibly difficult after 20 years in this business. Your brain fights you every second. But the people next to you, your family, your friends, they deserve to share that experience with you. Not with the version of you that is mentally in the production truck.
And here is something I did not expect. When I manage to turn off the professional lens, even for a few minutes, I come back to work the next day with more energy. More creativity. More love for what we do.
The best professionals in broadcasting are not the ones who criticize every show. They are the ones who never stop learning from them.
That is the line. Critic or student. One makes you bitter. The other makes you better.
Choose wisely.
If you know someone in this business who cannot stop working when they watch a game, send them this edition. They will recognize themselves in every paragraph.
Oscar