(Not So) Great Expectations

By (Not) Charles Dickens

It has been said, “To get the best out of life, one must expect the best.”

It has also been said, “Expect nothing, and you will not be disappointed.”

I have found that my expectations have to be managed in situations of major importance, as in the direction our country should be going, and, in the most minor of circumstances, such as whether my favorite team wins or loses. It seems as though I spend a lot of time managing (or mismanaging) my expectations.

There are those of us for whom the disappointment of not meeting high expectations, is worse than the feeling of settling for something less because expectations were low. It’s kind of like deciding if a glass is half empty or half full. I’m usually a half empty kind of guy. But not always. I have been burned by having great expectations, and you’d think I would have learned my lesson long ago. However, sometimes I forget.

This Dickens guy apparently has dibs on the title I wanted to use.

As an example of my great expectations in a situation of major importance, I expected Barack Obama to lead us to the promised land. After eight years of George W, I was excited to have a urbane smart person in the White House. And, if I am not mistaken, for his first two years, his party had large majorities in the House and Senate. He even had a filibuster-proof majority in the Senate for part of the first year.

During that time, I was hoping to be overwhelmed with bold, quick action by the Obama administration. I was looking forward to Obama and the Democrats powering their progressive agenda through Congress while they had this unique advantage.

But, that was not what happened. I understood that many bold policy initiatives would take time to put together. Revamping our disaster of a healthcare system could not happen with a snap of the fingers.

However, Obama campaigned on the concept of change, and my expectations were for the new President and his allies in Congress to be aggressive in ramming through what they could, while they could, and to heck with the Republicans. They could hop aboard the moving train, or get left behind.

This is just my opinion, but to me, Obama seemed reluctant to do that. And, I believe that was the biggest mistake of his presidency. He worked hard to entice Republicans to join him in cleaning up Bush’s mess, you know, for the good of the country. Remember how bad the economy was when Obama took over? I believe the popular word to describe the US economy at the time was “cratered”, as in “After eight years of W, the economy cratered.”

Unfortunately, Obama overestimated his ability to achieve a bipartisan consensus on his agenda. He thought he could get at least some Republicans to support policies that were popular and would benefit their constituents. I believe he wasted valuable time trying to win over Republicans who were never going to vote with him no matter what.

When Senator Ted Kennedy died in the summer of 2009, and the Massachusetts voters inexplicably voted in a Republican in the special election that followed, the Senate super majority was gone. The Obama agenda got bogged down in the Congressional morass. The unique advantage was lost. It became a slog to get progressive legislation through Congress and he had to spend quite a lot of political capital, and time, to get anything done.

My assessment of the Obama years is distorted by my expectations at the time. Don’t get me wrong, I look back on those years as being way better than eight years of W and his bungling of, well, everything. I think Barack Obama was a very good president, but, he could have been great, and great for the country, if he had pressed his advantage when he had it.   

Barack Obama definitely had his successes. But, his insistence on trying to work with Republicans in the beginning, gave the Tea Party radical types too much time to gum up the works.

My high expectations for Obama causes me to be wistful for what might have been. I should be happy at the things he did achieve. Instead, I am disappointed at what he didn’t. I should have done a better job of managing my expectations, I guess.

Here’s President Obama co-signing the loan application for my new car. What a swell guy!

Looking back, I’m surprised I did not learn the dangers and pitfalls of great expectations years before the Obama presidency. In 1992, I came thiiiiiiis close to attaining a life goal, only to have it snatched away from me. Before I croak, I want to see a World Series game in person in Pittsburgh. And, it almost happened.

In the 1992 National League Championship Series, the Pirates and the Atlanta Braves were tied at three games apiece in a best of seven series. The winner of Game 7 would go to the World Series. Tickets for World Series games were sold before the participants were known, and refunds would be issued to those fans whose teams did not make it. My brother purchased these conditional tickets for us, and, since I lived on the other side of the country, I purchased a plane ticket to Pittsburgh. Everything was in place. All that was left was for the Pirates to win.

As I watched Game 7 unfold on TV, I thought to myself, “They’re going to win and I’m going to the World Series!” They carried a 2-0 lead into the 9th inning, their best pitcher, Doug Drabek, was on the mound, and I was going to the World freaking Series! I uncharacteristically allowed my emotions and expectations to run wild. Then, it all turned to shit.

A double, an error, a walk, and a sacrifice fly made the score 2-1. A walk by relief pitcher Stan Belinda re-loaded the bases. The next batter hit a harmless pop fly for the second out. Then the Braves turned to pinch hitter Francisco Cabrera, a guy who had appeared in only seventeen games for the Braves that year, and who was out of Major League Baseball after the following season at age 26. He hit a sinking liner to left that dropped in, two Braves scored, the series was over, and my World Series dream was flushed down the crapper, just like that.

It was the worst thing I have ever seen, sports-wise. It was even worse because I allowed my expectations to run wild. I knew I was going to the World Series in Pittsburgh. I knew it and I expected it. But, it didn’t happen. Dang. It is still painful.

This is a re-enactment of my reaction to Braves first baseman (and former Pirate) Sid Bream, possibly the slowest man in baseball, scoring the winning run to send the Braves to the World Series, thereby crushing my dream, which has yet to be fulfilled. I did not cry. But I wanted to.

I suppose I have always been a negative thinker. I often look at situations and try to prepare myself for the worst case scenario. The disappointment of things going bad when I expect it, is lessened by preparing myself for it beforehand. Can that type of thinking sometimes become a self-fulfilling prophecy? H’mmm . . .

I do sometimes wonder, though, what I’ve missed out on by not having consistently positive expectations. Should I have found a way to set aside my fear of disappointment, to have a chance at experiencing more of the special, the magical, or the wondrous things in life? I guess I’ll never know.

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