By Lori Silverman
What kind of weather would you expect this time of year in Palm Springs, California, one of the hottest snowbird destinations? Typically it’s in the high 70’s or lower 80’s, perfect weather for the Pacific Life Tennis Tournament, the longest running combined (WTA and ATP) tournament in the United States.
Ah, but not this last weekend. A huge storm was forecast to come in over the Pacific Coast. Saturday daytime temperature was predicted to be in the high 60’s; on Sunday it was to be even cooler.
By early Saturday afternoon, the winds were anywhere from 25 to 35 miles per hour with gusts that were even stronger. They played havoc with players’ serves and volleys. In one match on Stadium 2, where you get to be within arm’s length of the players when you sit in the front row seats, I watched Robby Ginepri put his head against the back wall, scream unrepeatable words, and pound his left fist into it multiple times in sheer disgust.
Now, before I left my condo on Saturday, I’d read several weather reports. I’d even put on jeans (a first for me during the day at this tournament) and a sleeveless top (to catch the sun) and packed a long sleeve denim shirt and a lightweight spring jacket, planning to stay into the evening hours to watch a bunch of men’s singles matches.
I don’t know what the temperature was with the wind chill, but all I can tell you is by three o’clock in the afternoon, I had on every article of clothing I’d brought with me and was seated as close as I could be to the fans on either side of me in the stands. And I still was uncontrollably shivering.
What caught my eye was a young girl to my left. My guess is that she was about 12 years of age. She was seated between her mom and her mom’s best friend, who was on my immediate left. She was wearing the regulation ball girl’s outfit: a shot dark blue tennis skirt with a slit on the left side, a sleeveless light blue shirt with matching dark blue accents and white piping, and a matching dark blue FILA jacket and baseball cap. On her feet were ankle length white socks and tennis shoes. The goose bumps on her legs were the size of mini-mountains.
I learned from her mom’s friend that she’d been assigned to work a couple night matches on this court. Matches that would occur long after the sun went down. I asked her mom’s friend, “How will she stay warm? She looks so cold right now.” Her response? “They won’t let the girls wear pants. They say it looks unprofessional.”
I was incredulous. “Unprofessional? What about being comfortable and not getting sick? Can’t they wear nude-color tights or leggings like ice skaters?”
To which I was told, “That’s just the way it is around here. You have to abide by the rules or you don’t get to volunteer.”
I didn’t stay to watch this young girl work a single match. My teeth were chattering which was my cue to exit stage left.
On the bus that took me back to my car that was parked in the overflow lot, my seatmate and I talked about the weather. “It’s supposed to rain tomorrow. Yahoo’s weather site is even predicting hail,” he casually mentioned.
“Rain? Hail” Are you crazy? And, he showed me. Sure enough. It was there in black and white.
So, not to be outdone by the weather during Sunday’s matches, I packed two additional jackets on top of what I’d brought with me on Saturday. And one more time, I ended up leaving as soon as the sun crested the top of the snow-capped mountains.
“How are those ball girls going to survive the evening? I’m already frozen. I can’t even feel my toes. Even my nose is cold. They’ll freeze to death. Maybe that’s what’ll be needed in order for someone to be willing to bend the rules.”
By early Monday afternoon, the temperature had increased to the mid-70’s and the winds had subsided a bit. Finally, the weather was inching back to normal. Because I love men’s tennis more than I enjoy watching women, I once again found myself in the stands on Stadium 2. And low and behold, what did I see? Two young ball girls wearing leggings. One wore white; the other wore black. My jaw dropped open. “You’ve got to be kidding me. The temperature warms up and now they’re allowed to cover their legs?”
Another side of me felt a sense of relief. Someone with some street smarts finally saw the stupidity in the situation and bent the rules. Forty-eight hours and many screaming parents too late, I suspect.
I wonder, “How many times a day do we enforce or follow protocols that make no sense? Why exactly do we do this? Is it because ‘it’s just the way things have always been done?’ Or do we fear retribution? Maybe we think it’s not worth the air we breathe to mouth the words needed to change the situation.”
Tomorrow, as you go through your daily routines at home and at work, consciously think about whether or not the “rules” or “protocols” you and others are following make good sense. If they don’t, ask yourself, “what would it take to bend the rules?” You and those around you may be better off for it.
PERMISSION TO REPRINT: You may reprint this story as long as you include the following attribution. “Learn more about Lori Silverman’s work as a strategist and keynote speaker at http://www.partnersforprogress.com. Her latest book, Wake Me Up When the Data Is Over debuted in the top 100 books on Amazon in October 2006. She can be reached at 800 253 6398 or lori@partnersforprogress.com."
