Best is The Standard: Chasing Perfection Through Failure

Success Isn’t Perfection

Why specialists don’t rise by being flawless — they rise by failing well

There are moments in life when you hear something that makes you want to rewind the clock.

Sitting around Oklahoma football — listening to Coach Brent Venables, walking with Coach Doug Deakins — I’ve had that feeling more than once.

I find myself thinking:

If I could go back to high school…
If I could put everything I have into this game…
If I understood then what I know now…

Because the truth is, specialists don’t find success through perfection.

They find it through failure.

Chasing Perfection Isn’t About Being Perfect

Coach Venables built the foundation of Oklahoma Football on a simple, demanding

Best Is The Standard

Chase perfection.

But it’s never meant the way people think it means.

Chasing perfection isn’t about playing clean games every time.
It isn’t about never missing.
It isn’t about flawlessness.

It’s about the standard of work required to get as close as humanly possible.

Venables says it plainly:

“The process of chasing perfection is discouraging.”

And then he adds the part most people miss:

“The greatest achievers fail their way to the top.”

That line matters, especially for specialists.

Specialists Live in an Uncontrollable World

This position is uncontrollable by nature.

You can do everything right and still miss.
A snap can be high.
A hold can be late.
A step can be rushed.
A protection can leak.

And suddenly, the result looks like failure.

We see it at every level.
We saw it all season in the NFL.
The best kickers and snappers in the world miss.

Not because they aren’t prepared.
But because this job lives on the edge of perfection.

The Best Advice I’ve Ever Heard

The moment that changed how I view this position didn’t happen in a meeting room.

It happened on a casual walk.

After Trace had charted perfect, Coach Doug Deakins walked with him toward the indoor facility. No crowd. No spotlight. Just conversation.

Coach Deakins said something that every specialist needs to hear early:

“You’re going to miss at some point — and that’s totally fine.”

He didn’t soften it.
He didn’t avoid it.

He continued:

“I expect you to miss. It will happen. What I want to see is how you react after.”

Then he made it practical:

“You miss one? Fine. Go make the next 20.”
“You’ll miss again at some point. Then you just start over.”

That’s the job.

Failure Is the Teacher — If You Let It Be

This is where specialists separate themselves.

Anyone can look good when everything goes right.

But specialists are evaluated on:

• how they reset

• how they respond

• how they show up for the next rep

Misses don’t disqualify you.
Poor reactions do.

The athletes who rise aren’t the ones who avoid failure, they’re the ones who don’t let failure linger.

They shake it off.
They reset.
They go again.

What This Means for Parents

If you’re a parent, this matters more than you realize.

Because whether you intend it or not, you are part of your specialist’s response system.

Your reaction after a miss will either:

• reinforce fear, or

• reinforce resilience

And that reaction doesn’t start when the ball hits the net or falls short.

It starts in the look on your face.
In the silence you choose.
In the words you say — or don’t say — in the minutes that follow.

Here’s the hard truth: specialists don’t need parents who erase failure.

They need parents who normalize it.

They need to know that a miss doesn’t change how you see them.
That one moment doesn’t rewrite the story.
That your belief isn’t tied to makes and misses.

When parents rush to explain, fix, analyze, or replay the moment, the message — even unintentionally — becomes:

“That shouldn’t have happened.”

But in this position, it will happen.

Supporting a specialist means helping them learn that failure is not an emergency.
It’s information.
It’s part of the work.

The best thing a parent can model is calm.
Steadiness.
Confidence that doesn’t waver.

Because when your child knows they’re safe with you — even after a miss — they’re freer to reset, trust their process, and swing again.

That’s not lowering the standard.
That’s teaching them how to live inside it.

What This Means for Players

You will miss.

If you play this position long enough, it’s guaranteed.

That truth isn’t meant to scare you, it’s meant to free you.

Because once you accept that misses are part of the job, you stop fearing them and start preparing for what actually matters: the response.

The goal isn’t to avoid failure.
The goal is to build a response so automatic that the miss doesn’t get to live rent-free in your head.

That response looks like this:

Miss.
Reset.
Next rep.

No dramatic self-talk.
No emotional spiral.
No carrying the last kick into the next one.

The best specialists understand something early:

A miss doesn’t define you ,but how long you hold onto it does.

Coaches aren’t evaluating perfection.
They’re evaluating consistency of mindset.
They’re watching how quickly you settle.
How you move your feet after.
How you approach the next ball.

Confidence at this position isn’t loud.
It isn’t chest-pounding.
It’s quiet certainty-built rep by rep.

You earn trust not by never missing, but by proving that a miss doesn’t change who you are or how you work.

Fail.
Learn.
Reset.
Go again.

That’s how trust is built.
That’s how confidence lasts.

Final Word

Chasing perfection doesn’t mean expecting perfection.

It means showing up with the humility to be coached, the discipline to reset, and the courage to fail forward.

Specialists don’t succeed because they’re flawless.
They succeed because they’re willing to miss and keep swinging anyway.

Best Is The Standard.