In the summer after my sophomore year in college, I had the good fortune of interning at The George Michael Sports Machine. It was a great summer job, mixing my love of sports with broadcasting, all in the context of a ground-breaking national program with local Washington, DC roots. The other interns were a mixed bag of journalism majors and aspiring sportscasters, and we were all thrown together in the deep end of the pool and taught how to swim. It was not for the faint of heart, as we were under pressure to deliver for the show and often tested in public about our sports knowledge. But we bonded over a common mission and wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
There was a fellow intern named Steve who was in constant “voiceover” mode, trying to impress the staff with his dulcet tones and electric, made-for-tv smile. Everyday water cooler conversation became an audition tape waiting to happen. He acted as if a live camera followed him around in his own personal reality show.
“How ya doing today, Steve?”
“If I was any better, I’d be twins! Speaking of Twins, Kirby Puckett is En Fuego with a Capital E!”
It was insufferable, but we gave him a break as it was mostly just quirky and harmless.
Then one day, George Michael came barreling into the newsroom, and we knew had to be ready for a pop quiz. Steve’s job was to cover the Baltimore Orioles, who had a player named Mickey Tettleton. Mickey had the nickname of “The Looper” because of his fondness for Fruit Loops.
Immediately, George pointed to Steve and shouted.
“Tell me everything you know about the Orioles today!”
This was the perfect set up for Steve, who cleared his throat and flashed his patented smile.
“The Looper SMACKED two dingers! Moons Shots NASA would envy!”
George just stared at him in utter confusion.
Not to be deterred, Steve repeated himself with more volume and more confidence.
“That’s right! The Looper WALLOPED two dingers! The longest of the long balls!”
George was exasperated and having none of it. He sighed out loud to no one in particular.
“Can someone please translate?”
A hush fell over the newsroom. Steve was on his own.
After several excruciating seconds, Steve timidly (a first for him) replied.
“Uh. Mickey Tettleton hit two home runs.”
George broke into a smile.
“Thank you. Next time I ask you question, just give me a straightforward answer.”
That was all that needed to be said. And isn’t that good advice for all of us in our everyday lives?
Just Answer the Question
In business, people often hide behind jargon, big words, and polished sound bites. Sometimes it’s because we want to impress. Sometimes it’s because we’re nervous. And sometimes it’s because we think complexity makes us sound smarter.
But more often than not, the most respected people in any organization are the ones who communicate clearly and directly. They answer the question that was asked. They say what they mean. They don’t try to dress up the message with unnecessary flair.
George Michael wasn’t looking for a performance that day. He was looking for information.
And that’s a lesson that sticks.
Resilience Requires Honesty
The same principle applies in our personal lives. The strongest relationships—whether with colleagues, friends, or family—are built on straightforward communication. People appreciate honesty far more than theatrics. When we say what we mean and mean what we say, we remove confusion and build trust.
But perhaps the most important place to be straightforward is with ourselves.
Resilience, especially during difficult periods, requires honest internal dialogue. When things aren’t going well, it’s tempting to spin a story in our heads that softens the truth. We might pretend a setback wasn’t our fault, or convince ourselves a situation isn’t as challenging as it really is.
But growth begins the moment we stop narrating and start listening.
Keep It Simple
Life tends to respond best when we deal with reality directly. Clear-eyed self-assessment helps us understand where we are, what went wrong, and what needs to happen next.
Straightforward with others.
Straightforward with ourselves.
That kind of clarity builds trust, strengthens relationships, and perhaps most importantly, builds resilience. Because when the tough moments arrive—as they inevitably do—we’re not wasting energy on the performance.
We’re focused on the solution. We’re clear in our communication. In the end, resilience doesn’t need a voiceover—it just needs the truth.
“Mickey Tettleton hit two home runs.”
Sometimes, the simplest answer is the best one.
