The Fleetwood Tennis Centre Syndrome, and with a twist. by John Joyce

 

      Self  congratulating to the max .

   I call it the Fleetwood Tennis Centre annual meeting syndrome but it could be any company gathering or social club.  The vice  president  of the committee  stands up and says how  wonderful everything is going. Someone else on the committee states that so and so contributed to the  smooth running of   the organisation. We then learn  that  the place is a marvel of success and is used as a  model  in new  regions of the  province. Someone else is noted as a key contributor and they shyly acknowledge the clapping.  Membership is up and the  finances are explained with handouts  signed  by  a double C.A. No one understands a word about the finances except the delayed increase in fees approved by  in absentia by the quorum

        Within five minutes everyone on the committee has been applauded  plus  four ex members  who were instrumental in having  the place built. Of course, the only thing missing is a few hallelujahs and many amen brother plus a good Baptist “Trust And Obey,” or then   “Amazing Grace: to send us to the tea and biscuits. This is a blue print for self praise that most corporations echo at their annual sales meeting  and  sometimes lapse into at the Christmas Party. 

      There are some subtle differences between tennis club annual general meetings and corporate conclaves.  It is to do with the participants.  The former may wear blank faces with  corresponding  minds’ miles  away,  thinking about their car being serviced  or  whether to go cross country skiing on Sunday and if they  should  slip  out before the end of the charade. 

       Now at company  shindigs  the opposite is true. Focus and enthusiasm abound. Your supervisor’s boss is watching you and you don’t want to draw any attention to your self. Even being praised for a job well done is not necessarily a good career move. It might come back to haunt you next winter. 

      “Remember, we are all one team here. We have a vision.”  I am sure there is a book on  corporate  clichés somewhere.. At company meetings,   there is rarely any dissent or approaching criticism.  All opposition and non toer of the company line were removed five quarters ago, which may have included your boss’s boss.  

 

      And with a twist 

      

      Now the above is common place  but on very rare occasions you will witness the  Fleetwood  Tennis  Centre   Syndrome with a  twist. Be aware it happens quickly and it is really life on the edge.

       Well, at one Fleetwood  Tennis Centre  annual meeting  I attended,  we never quite got to the  hallelujahs and   amen Brothers due to  Happy Jock speaking his mind. Of course Jock was never happy about anything in life and could ruin your good day in seconds by his offhand  offensive  comments. I always saw him as  a   Yorkshire character  out of a  D.H. Lawernce book spouting  such phases as “"Where there's muck there's brass" Maybe Jock could have been a textile baron or  a mine owner? The facts are Jock was born in British Columbia and  a retired high school  English teacher. He was a keen tennis player and a good one until the knees went. Jock spoke his mind.

      Suddenly Jock interrupted  the  charismatic proceedings.

      ” The tennis courts are always booked and when I do get one there is a loud mouth  coach who interrupts  my game” 

      Well  one could the hear the  second  hands of many of the Seiko   watches. The head coach  jolted   back to ground from his cloud.

“We can talk about that later Jock,” fearing that the inscription on his third  trophy  would not be as  effusive as  the last one.

      “You said that last year retorted Jock and nothing has happened.”

      Maybe it was the silence that permitted the seeds to germinate in the minds of other tennis players. It was difficult to get tennis courts. But why? Everyone knew who was the loud mouth coach was but never  thought  that one could mention it. Certainly  not in public. Before  matters got out of hand  with  trophies  and   loud mouth   coaches being  part of the history of the club  only to be remembered  by   some of the  junior  players, the chairman  reassuringly stepped in with his rich  South African voice, momentarily glancing at   Rebecca, his new  double’s partner.

      “Jock,  I’ve made a note here of your concerns.” A slight tilting of the head and  clasping of his hand and was there an eye brow movement from the chairman?

      “It is very good of you to contribute. Thank you. I’d also be delighted to take this up with after next month’s sub-committee  meeting. Will that be alright Jock?”

Jock grunted something, and the chairman  felt that the commissioned oil painting of  the committee,  by  Rebecca, was again  on track. He planned to wear her  Christmas gift;; the  Holt Renfrew Burgundy Silk Polka Dot tie and expected to be  featured  prominently to the left centre in the painting.

      Self congratulating syndromes are common but  it’s the twists that count.