The Perfect Pass to Absolutely Nobody

The entire article is solving why a perfectly good physical action can fail when two people do not share the same understanding.

A basketball player sees an opening and fires a perfect pass across the court. Right speed. Right height. Beautiful. There is only one minor problem: the teammate it was intended for is running confidently in the opposite direction. For one brief moment, both players look at each other with the same expression:” What exactly were you doing?”

Neither player necessarily made a bad decision. They may both know the rules, understand the game and have perfectly reasonable ideas about what should happen next. The problem is that they had different ideas. Games are full of moments like this because your teammates cannot automatically know what you see, what you are planning or what you think is about to happen. Communication is how separate people build enough common understanding to play together.

Some of that communication uses words. “Mine!” can prevent two volleyball players from discovering that they have both volunteered for exactly the same piece of floor. “Switch!” can tell defenders to exchange who they are covering. Calling someone's name, explaining a rule, warning a teammate or saying “nice try” all communicate different kinds of information. The useful question is not simply, “Am I talking?” It is, “Does what I am saying help someone understand what is happening or what we are trying to do?”

Oddly enough, some of the most useful conversations in sport contain no words at all. A player points toward open space. A teammate nods. A volleyball player gives an agreed hand signal. Someone makes eye contact before starting a play. Apparently your eyebrows can also participate, although they seem particularly talented at communicating, “That was not the plan.”

These are forms of non-verbal communication, and many of them also provide visual cues, information another person can see and use. Players can watch gestures, referee signals, demonstrations and one another's body positions. Even movement can provide information. If a soccer player suddenly runs into open space, a teammate with the ball may recognize where the pass could go without anybody stopping the game to hold a brief meeting about it.

Your brain needs these clues because a game is an information storm. There may be a ball moving, teammates changing position, opponents moving, boundaries to track and rules to remember, all while you are moving too. You cannot pay equal attention to everything. A useful call, gesture or visual cue can direct your attention toward something that matters: “Behind you!” A pointed finger can do much the same thing without contributing another voice to an already enthusiastic gym.

Communication also has a receiving end. Active listening means paying attention to what someone is communicating, trying to understand it and responding to the useful information. If your group is explaining the plan while you are concentrating entirely on the brilliant thing you intend to say next, some communication has occurred. Unfortunately, most of it has travelled in only one direction.

Before a game, communication helps everyone understand the goal, structure and rules. During the game, it helps people coordinate, solve problems and adjust when things change. It also communicates sportsmanship and etiquette. “Good game,” helping someone understand a rule respectfully, encouraging a teammate after a mistake and listening when someone asks a question all tell people something about how the group expects participants to treat one another.

And that connects communication to something bigger than making better passes. The way people communicate can help someone feel included in an activity or make them feel as though nobody particularly wants them there. Calling someone's name because they are open, explaining something without making them feel foolish, listening to their idea and encouraging them after an attempt all create opportunities to participate.

So the next time a pass sails magnificently toward absolutely nobody, there may be more to investigate than who made the mistake. What did each person think was happening? Was anything said? Was there a signal? Did someone miss a visual cue? Was anyone listening?

A game works because people keep answering those questions, usually in seconds. Communication is how a group turns “what I think is happening” into “what we understand is happening.” Once that common understanding exists, everyone has a much better chance of knowing where the next pass is going.