How - Dov Seidman [5]
“The great left fielder for the A’s, Rickey Henderson, known as ‘The Man of Steal’ for his prowess running the bases, was coming up to bat at the time. He looked up and saw this thing going around and around the stadium, and he stepped out of the batter’s box and adjusted his gloves for about two minutes, watching this thing. He just stood there, looking at this thing, adjusting his batting gloves. I don’t know how many times it went around—four, five, six times—it was that powerful.
“After the Wave, the crowd was noticeably different, hyped up and involved in the game. They knew they’d helped out. They felt the energy. When I did the next cheer, the defense cheer or the clapping, it was much louder. That’s the thing I saw that day, and still see today after almost 25 years of leading the Wave, the added energy that it brings to the stadium or the arena or whatever venue I’m at. The fans start feeling that they are part of the game and they’re adding to it.”
The Wave is an extraordinary act. All those people, spread out over a vast stadium, with limited ability to connect or communicate, somehow come together in a giant cooperative act inspired by a common goal: to help the home team win. It defies language and culture, occurring with regularity throughout the world at Tower of Babel events as diverse as the Olympics and international soccer games (in fact, it’s often called the Mexican Wave or La Olá because of its first appearance on the international stage at the Mexico City World Cup Finals in 1986).2 It transverses gender, income, and societal status. It is a pure expression of collective passion released.
When I started LRN Corporation in 1994, I thought it would be extraordinary if I could capture in the workplace something of the spirit of the Wave—that rich, cacophonous tapestry of human beings coming together to create that home court advantage. Was there some way to foment that kind of creative energy focused on our business goals? What does it take to start a Wave?
If you consider the Wave as a process of human endeavor, you realize immediately that anyone can start one—an enthusiastic soccer mom, four drunken guys with jellyroll bellies and their bare chests painted Oakland green, or eight adolescents who idolize the team’s star player. You don’t have to be the owner of the stadium, the richest or most powerful person there, or even a paid professional like Krazy George. No one takes out their business card and says, “My title is the biggest; let the Wave start with me.” Anyone can start a Wave; it is a truly democratic act.
So, how do you do it? Let’s have some fun for a minute and break it down. Say, for instance, that you are sitting in the stands at a football game and the home team is down by a touchdown. You see your team huffing and puffing, and you are disappointed that your fellow fans seem lethargic and complacent. Suddenly, you have a vision, a vision to help your team win, to make them feel like they have a home field advantage. You imagine a certain esprit de corps, a massive wave of energy. But you are honest with yourself. You realize that you don’t own the stadium. The people there don’t owe you anything—they are free agents; they have other agendas. They are munching popcorn, eating hot dogs, slurping drinks, or cheering for the opposing team. They might be highly inconvenienced by your vision. The guy next to you may not feel like getting up; he might be thinking, “I’m mad as hell that our prima donna wide receiver wants to be traded.” So, what will it take?
First, you need people’s attention. Starting a Wave requires an act of leadership, so you must be willing to stand up and lead. You have to stand up, communicate your idea, and inspire others to help you achieve it. But how? Krazy George uses his drum, but