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Celebrate Hard, Then Disappear šŸ†šŸ§˜

Status: Declassifiedā€Š-ā€ŠFile Archive 14 | Processing Wins

Updated
•6 min read
Celebrate Hard, Then Disappear šŸ†šŸ§˜

In the last dispatch, I talked about passing Sam’s philosophy forwardā€Šā€”ā€Šhoped, not enforced.

But here’s the thing about passing something forward: you have to receive it first. And sometimes, receiving means getting hit in the face with a truth you didn’t want to see.

This one comes from Camille Fournier’s The Manager’s Pathā€Šā€”ā€Ša book I’ve revisited more times than I can count. Every time, different dots light up.

This time, one hit different. Because it described someone I used to be.

Let me confuse you. šŸŽÆ


šŸ“Œ The Dot: The Alpha Geek in the Mirror

ā€œThe alpha geek is driven to be the best engineer on the team, to always have the right answer, and to be the person who solves all the hard problems. The alpha geek values intelligence and technical skill above all other traits… She tends to undermine the people who work for her by belittling their mistakes and, at her worst, redoing the work of her teammates without warning. Sometimes the alpha geek will take credit for all of the work that a team does rather than acknowledging the strength of the team members.ā€

— Camille Fournier, The Manager’s Path


The Setup:

When I first read this, I felt seen. Not in a good way.

I was that guy.

Early in my career, I played a huge role in implementing complex projects. And I made sure everyone knew it. Even when I had a team, I took credit for everything. The wins were mine. The recognition was mine. The spotlight? Definitely mine.

I celebrated hard. But selfishly. Focused entirely on me.


The Story:

Looking back, I’m embarrassed. Ashamed, even. I was that jerk.

The thing about being an Alpha Geek is that you DO get recognition. People notice you. Leaders praise you. You feel validated.

But here’s what I didn’t see at the time: the recognition came from fear, not respect.

My team didn’t celebrate my wins with meā€Šā€”ā€Šthey survived them. They didn’t come to me for help because they admired my skillsā€Šā€”ā€Šthey came because they were afraid of what would happen if they didn’t. Or worse, they stopped coming at all.

And that recognition? It fed the monster. Made me more arrogant. More egoistic. More convinced that I was the smartest person in every room.

Remember in The Avengers, when Stark tells Cap, ā€œEverything special about you came out of a bottleā€? That was meā€Šā€”ā€Šso convinced of my own brilliance that I couldn’t see anyone else’s value. Couldn’t share the spotlight. Couldn’t imagine the win belonging to anyone but me. šŸ›ø

If I hadn’t worked under Sam’s mentorship, I would have become the Alpha Jerk that nobody wants on their teamā€Šā€”ā€Šhowever technically brilliant I might have been.


The Twist:

Sam saw it. Of course he did.

And he gave me the weirdest advice I’ve ever received:

ā€œCelebrate hard. Privately. Sometimes with your team, most of the time alone. Process it until you reach satisfaction. Saturation. And thenā€Šā€”ā€Šin publicā€Šā€”ā€Šyou’ll automatically find the humility to credit the team and take the corner.ā€

Then he added something that rewired how I handle every win and loss since:

ā€œProcess celebration and sorrow as soon as you can. Don’t hold it back.ā€

Stay with me.

If you hold onto celebration too long, a vacuum forms. Nothing excites you anymore. Every achievement feels hollow because you’re still chasing the high from the last one.

If you hold onto sorrow too long, it eats you. Affects your healthā€Šā€”ā€Šphysical and mental.

The solution? Process fully. Reach saturation. Then move on.

Confusing? Good. That’s exactly how Sam operated.

But here’s the thingā€Šā€”ā€Šit worked. It’s worked for 15+ years.

Think about Fury in Age of Ultron. The Avengers are broken. Defeated. Scattered at Barton’s farm. And Fury shows upā€Šā€”ā€Šnot with a speech about victory, but with perspective. He’d already processed the loss. Reached his version of saturation. That’s why he could walk into that room and lift the team instead of drowning with them.

The ones who process fully are the ones who can lead through the next storm. šŸ›”ļø


The Deeper Cut:

You know what Sam told me to picture?

MS Dhoni. 2011 World Cup Final.

India wins. The stadium explodes. Players rush the field. Cameras everywhere. And Dhoni? He’s in the corner. Quiet smile. Watching his team celebrate.

He’d already processed it. Hit saturation. The corner wasn’t about being humble for the camerasā€Šā€”ā€Šit was the natural result of having celebrated fully, privately, before the moment even arrived.

Since 2008ā€Šā€”ā€Šafter Sam’s mentoring on thisā€Šā€”ā€ŠI always take the corner. Every single time.

ā€œI did this → We did this.ā€ ā€œSame person. Different corner.ā€

Here’s my practice now: When I receive appreciationā€Šā€”ā€Ša work anniversary note, a promotion announcement, any recognitionā€Šā€”ā€ŠI read it. Then I read it again. And again. N number of times until I hit what I call the Zen Zone. That point where I no longer feel the excitement. Saturation.

These days, it takes a few minutes. Tough moments can take hours, sometimes a couple of days. But those extended periods are rare now.

And here’s the twist within the twistā€Šā€”ā€Šlet me confuse you further.

I already operate as an Intrapreneur. An entrepreneur who’s paid for his entrepreneurship. At Kissflow, I assume the role of CEO for Team DevOps, SRE, and QA. Dinesh and Suresh? My investors. The Engineering team? My customers.

In that frame, I’m already CEO. Promotions and appreciation still give the highā€Šā€”ā€ŠI’m human. But as an Intrapreneur, I take the corner again after dedicating the progress to the team.

Because here’s the truth: I can’t be the coach if there’s no team.

It’s like Cap at the end of Endgame. He’d done the work. Fought the fights. Earned every bit of recognition the universe could offer. But when it was time? He passed the shield to Sam Wilson and took the cornerā€Šā€”ā€Šliterally disappeared into a quiet life he’d processed and chosen for himself. The crown went in the garage. He picked up a different life. šŸ›ø

That’s the model.

The crown goes in the garage. I pick up the next challenge. And we go again.


šŸŽÆ The Debrief

⚔ Process fullyā€Šā€”ā€Šcelebration AND sorrow. Don’t hold either. Reach saturation, then release.

⚔ Take the Dhoni cornerā€Šā€”ā€Špublic humility is the natural result of private processing, not performance.

⚔ The crown goes in the garageā€Šā€”ā€Šyou earned it, but it’s not what you lead with.

From Alpha Geek to the corner. That’s the journey.

And yesā€Šā€”ā€ŠI tell my team these Sam stories infinite times. To a point where they’ve heard more than enough. But that’s the job, right? Shamelessly brand the philosophy until it sticks.

I don’t wait for them to connect the dots. I just make sure they collect them.

Class dismissed. ✊