Knowing when to leave a party is an art form. It’s not engraved anywhere, it’s not the motto of a country where everyone goes to bed early or confirmed by science. Despite everything, I believe in it.
Posted at 9:00 a.m.
Two weeks ago, ICI Première announced that this 11and season of the much loved show The more the merrier, the more we read would be the last – a choice of host Marie-Louise Arsenault and director Marie-France Lemaine. After the sadness, the announcement first triggered – in the many fans of this must daily – a panic. It camouflaged a deep love, an unwavering loyalty and, in part, a certain confusion. Why end a show that, as confirmed by the most recent figures, has never been so popular?
All of this made me think of Jerry Seinfeld. In 1998, the comedian put an end to his eponymous television show, one of the most emblematic of the decade. By the time of the last episode of Seinfeld, the show was the most-watched in the United States and earned US$200 million a year for NBC, the broadcaster. Jerry Seinfeld was making $1 million per episode, on top of his big earnings as the show’s co-creator. To convince him to stay, NBC offered Jerry Seinfeld to quintuple what he received per episode. He refused. Why leave, then? Jerry Seinfeld has answered this question many times, and the answer has always been the same: with a sense of accomplishment, he had a choice between leaving and ensuring the show remained legendary or making more money. He still managed to do both. Years after the end of Seinfeld in 1998, clever negotiations made Jerry Seinfeld and his acolytes in the creation and production of his show very rich people. The most recent rebroadcast license deal was awarded to Netflix last year, for $500 million. Five hundred, not fifty. It’s not a shell.
I admire people who know when to go and when to press pause or stop. Admirer, because I imagine the heartbreak that must have accompanied the reflection, then the decision. Especially at a time when overshoot and overperformance are not only celebrated, they are sought after.
The growing popularity of smartwatches and the proliferation of sports assistive apps, for example, testify to this. On our wrist, at all times, we monitor our performance: the number of steps per day, the speed of our jogging morning or the strength of our hamstrings. On our wrist, these gadgets have become extensions of our bodies with the aim of reaching a little higher, a little further. Another step, another leap.
These words, borrowed from the repertoire of Jean-Pierre Ferland and which I have applied to personal athletics, remind us that sport is often a microcosm. The constant quest for a little higher, a little further is also found in the corporate world, fueled by the multiplication of levels in business organization charts. Always more tools to measure performance, always on the hunt for one more title, always a promotion in the corner of your eye.
And if sport can serve as a mirror for us, I have noticed for some time an evolution in our perception of performance and well-being.
Andrew Luck is a former quarterback for the Indianapolis Colts. In 2019, then only 29 years old, constantly injured and having lost the joy of playing, Luck announced that he was retiring from the National Football League, leaving the remaining US$58 million on the table. his contract. During his last game, fans booed him and burned his shirt, with many calling him ungrateful and a spoiled brat.
Today, this kind of decision seems to me to be better accepted and much more applauded. This acceptability perhaps reflects that this exhaustion of athletes, this wish to not always want to be out of breath and the desire to do something else are also ours.
Last March, the Australian Ashleigh Barty announced her retirement from tennis, she who was the first racket in the world and who, at 25, is still very young. The same month, the energy drink Powerade – whose identity is based on performance – launched a new advertising campaign. Break Is Power features different stars from the sports world. Among them, the great gymnast Simone Biles who, during the recent Tokyo Olympics, had decided to withdraw from certain competitions to preserve her mental well-being. A scenario reminiscent of the one seen at Wimbledon at the same time, when player Naomi Osaka announced her withdrawal from the prestigious tennis tournament, for the same reason.
This progress reassures me. Having ambition and wanting to succeed are not incompatible with the flair of knowing when to leave and take a break, on the contrary. The Powerade brand is right: it’s very powerful.