Time Gentlemen Please

“I was the future once”.

David Cameron

Outside the heat is punishing - the kind that weighs heavy. Thirty five degrees and barely any shade.

But the NRG Stadium in Houston has the advantage of being the only one in the World Cup with air conditioning. And so within its walls lies an oasis.

All of which means that as Cristiano Ronaldo struts away from goal, looking better than any forty one year old has any right to do - he barely looks as if he has broken a sweat.

Noticing the approaching camera, he fixes it with a steely glare. “I’m back!” he roars, straight down the pipe.

But then a little too quickly, almost as if he needs to convince himself as much as anyone else, he says it again. “I’m back…”

Now, at this stage we can debate to what extent anyone can ever really be “back” after notching twice against the footballing might of Uzbekistan.

But the more interesting questions to ask here, at least to me, are - “how can we realise when something isn’t working out anymore?” and, more practically, “when this happens to us, how can we exit stage right with dignity?”.

I don’t have a great memory, quite the opposite to be honest. But I do remember the first time I saw Cristiano Ronaldo play.

I was 15, we were staying in a rented house up near Portrush during the summer holidays, and my Grandad stuck on Match of the Day because we had heard some chat about this 18 year old with a terrible haircut who had just made his debut for Man United against Bolton.

I’ll never forget it, this boy came on and played with a freedom that was spellbinding. All tricks and flicks and stepovers and lollipops - he did things with a football that I had never seen before.

Ronaldo’s direct opponent that day was Nicky Hunt, a seasoned Premier League right back. Ronaldo made him look like a schoolboy who had won the opportunity to play in a competition.

It wasn’t just Hunt either. None of the Bolton players could get near him. They were 1-0 down when Ronaldo came on, by the time the game finished it was four.

Alas, that was then and this is now.

There have been a number of narratives around this particular World Cup. Too many teams, too high prices, FIFA managing to demonstrate a simultaneous disregard for both the paying customer and the environment - Balugon-gate.

But the most compelling narrative to me is how Cristiano Ronaldo has managed to sacrifice his entire country’s World Cup dreams on the altar of his own narcissism.

Portugal have a very good team. Vitinha makes the best club side in Europe tick. Bruno Fernandes at times seems to drag the lifeless corpse of Manchester United over the finish line single-handedly. Portugal have a decent spine, promising young players and a competent manager.

But in Ronaldo they have a luxury they cannot continue to carry. He is now a shadow of his former self.

No one can doubt Ronaldo’s dedication to his craft. It is impossible to be playing top level sport at the age of 41 without superhuman discipline. I’m 38, and getting out of bed in the morning can occasionally present logistical difficulties.

But he is forty one, father time is undefeated and the right time to hang it up increasingly appears to have been a couple of years ago.

Surely the mature thing to do would have been to retire before the World Cup, or at least accept a supporting role during the tournament - rather than be indulged like this. Playing almost every minute of every Portugal game, wandering about at centre forward like a particularly ambitious care home resident who has managed to escape into the car park.

The end comes for us all some day. Not just that one, but lots of little endings throughout life. Some of these are obvious in real time, some less so.

We are told so often to persist, to keep going: effort = outcome. But what happens when the return is no longer worth our invested effort. When our time could be better suited in some other endeavour, on some other thing? And how can we know?

The bad news is that the desire to persist with some activity or decision, despite this no longer being the objectively “right call”, is a bias which seems to be hard wired into us. Interestingly enough, not only is this behaviour ingrained into us humans - but it also seems to be present in other species too.

The good news is that there are some practical steps that we can take to protect against this “sunk cost fallacy”.

When faced with a big decision whether to continue with some endeavour or instead stop, ask yourself honestly - “if I was coming to this question today, without any psychological scar tissue, what would I decide?”. Then literally get a piece of paper and write down the pros and cons - past effort isn’t allowed to be included as a vote for sticking with it.

The other interesting thing that the research shows is that older and/or more experienced folks seem better able to defend against this particular bias. So if you don’t personally have the “mental reps” under your belt to see where you might be mis-stepping, you would be well advised to seek informal or professional counsel from someone with a few more miles on the clock.

I’m no philosopher - you must know that by now. But I reckon the best lesson to take from the Ronaldo affair is to not tie too much of our self worth up in any one aspect of our lives. Not on our career, not on our net worth, not on the decisions we make.

The only thing that doesn’t have an expiry date in life, is trying to be a good person and to foster our closest relationships the best we can.

Everything else is transient, and we have to remain detached enough from the stuff that doesn’t really matter to know when the final credits are starting to roll on that particular part of our lives. If instead we tie up too much of ourselves in one aspect of our personality, we get too close to be able to see the full picture.

When the time comes, and it comes for almost everything, sometimes the greatest kindness we can afford ourselves is to draw a line and move on with gratitude.

Persistence may be futile, but hey - maybe the real prize was the friends we made along the way.

None of the above is intended to represent advice to any individual. If you have questions related to your specific situation, feel free to contact me at david@beechgrovefinancialplanning.co.uk or consult with another regulated financial adviser.