Avictoryfortheteam

I love the smell of victory.

I joined my first team when I was six years old. I can remember it vividly. I was the right fielder for the Phillies. Not the Philadelphia Phillies (though at this point that might be an improvement), but the Phillies of the McCreesh playground tee-ball league in Southwest Philadelphia.

I was never what one might call a gifted athlete. To be perfectly honest, I was downright awful. And not just at baseball either. I was an average soccer goalie and served as little more than a tackling dummy at football practice. I dribbled more as a baby than I did on the basketball court.

But strangely enough, the teams I played on almost always managed to win a championship. And even though I may have watched more minutes than I played, I always felt as if I had made some contribution to the victory.

Quite simply, I was able to understand my role on the team and regardless of how insignificant it may have been, I performed it.

For any team to acheive even a modest degree of success, it is essential for the team's members to understand what is needed from them to attain it.

It did not take me long to real- ize sports were just not for me. I gave up on organizational sports after I graduated from eighth grade, but I still have not given up on the concept of team.

As editor in chief of Loquitur, I have observed an entire staff of editors, writers and photographers attempting to discover their role and fulfill it.

When a team wins, it is usually because they have gelled as a team and overcome the internal problems that almost always lead to dissension.

Easier said than done.

The one thing I learned this year is that the human ego is a fragile thing. If there is one constant to be found in the playing field we refer to as the newsroom, it is criticism. Constructive criticism, but criticism nonetheless. Balancing the numerous personalities could sometimes be a bit like trying to sign a wet piece of toilet paper with a felt-tip pen, a very tricky task indeed, but not an impossible one, if done correctly.

We surely have thicker skins to show for our experience and for the most part, we are all still smiling. (Except for Jeanne, that is. Cheer up, dear. There is life after Loquitur.)

What was most satisfying to me, as editor, was to watch each

by Thomas McKee editor in chief

individual discover their niche, settle into it and make a contribution, regardless of how small.

Just like a subpar right fielder can help push his team to victory, so can any editor, writer, photographer, ad designer or cartoonist. No one role is more important than the other. Coming to that realization is equally important, but much harder to do, especially for the people placed in a position that may seem more prominent.

Unfortunatley, there is no newspaper championship. When you are working on a newspaper, success comes in small doses. Home runs are replaced by well-written stories and touchdowns take a back seat to a strong layout or a sharp photo.

The true measure of success comes when you can sit back and reflect upon the things you have learned, knowing that despite the hardships and the trials, you have made yourself a better person.

If you are able to look around at the surrounding faces of your teammates and realize that, together, you were able to achieve the team's goals, regardless of personal feelings or disagreements, then you can consider yourself a success.

Even better, you can consider yourself a winner.