Is Winning The Only Thing?

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN:  When I first met Jonathan, he challenged me, oh so casually, to a game of Scrabble. Oh, yeah, I thought. I got you. (Mind you, we were early on in our relationship.) Sure, I said. Secretly rubbing my hands in anticipation.

Because I am really good at Scrabble. And I wanted to win.

Jonathan proceeded to wipe the floor with me, It was such a rout, seriously, that at one point I grabbed the board and called out “Earthquake! Earthquake!”

Our relationship survived that, but I am none the less competitive. Thank goodness I am not alone.

Charles Salzberg—and I am such a fan!—has new book out called Second Story Man. And Reds and readers, you will love it.

And some of it--about a master burglar and his nemesis--is about the dangers of needing to win.

Winning

        by Charles Salzberg

        

Here’s my dirty little secret: I am, by nature, very competitive. Not the win at-any-cost kind of competitive, but competitive enough where losing hurts way more than it should.

So, yes, I own up to wanting to win. But I come by it legitimately, because winning is an American obsession. As UCLA football coach Red Saunders once said, “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing,” (this quote has often been attributed to legendary Green Bay Packers coach, Vince Lombardi, but it was Saunders who said it first) and this attitude is as American as apple pie, our national mantra, if you will. Not only do we hate to lose, but the word “loser” has become a particularly nasty epithet.

Everything, no matter how mundane, how inconsequential, becomes a contest, with a winner and a loser. Think about all the reality shows on TV. Survivor. The Bachelor. American Idol. Top Chef. The Voice. The Amazing Race. They’re not about reality, they’re about winning…and losing.

This need to come out on top is not something I’m particularly proud of and so I do my best to hide it, as if being competitive, wanting to be the best, is something to be ashamed of. Well, maybe it is, if it’s unchecked. What do we lose sight of if all that’s important is winning? Should coming out on top be so important to us?

As a kid, I was a pretty fair tennis player. Not the best, but good enough to know that when I got out there on the court there was a pretty good chance I’d win, or at least be competitive. Often, I’d play with Mike Winters, an excellent athlete. When he’d miss a shot, you’d know it. He’d curse, throw his racquet, sometimes bang it into the ground as if he wanted to bury it six feet under. 

One afternoon, after we’d completed a particularly close match, he came up to me and asked, “Don’t you care if you win?”

         I was taken aback. Of course, I cared. Who wouldn’t?

“Sure, I do.”

         “Then why don’t you show it?”

         I’d committed a cardinal sin: not publicly showing how much winning meant to me.

        

Over the years, I’ve realized that, in fact, winning isn’t everything. Wanting to do your best, giving it your all, is. Whether you win or lose tomorrow the sun is still going to come up. You’re still going to have to deal with pretty much the same problems you had before you won. Sure, there’s that initial “top of the world, ma!” feeling, but we all know it doesn’t last very long.

          I wanted to write something about this phenomenon and so, when the idea of writing about a master burglar came to me, I realized I had my chance.

         

Francis Hoyt is that master burglar. Brilliant, athletic, arrogant, manipulative, he considers himself the best thief, not just today, but of all-time. And perhaps he is. 

Hoyt, a creation of imagination, is really an amalgam of two real-life burglars: the so-called “dinnertime bandit,” and the “silver thief.” In winter, he plies his trade down south, mostly in southern Florida, where the money is. In spring, summer and fall, he comes north, following his wealthy targets. The only time he’s spent in prison was because he didn’t listen to his instincts and let someone else force him to do something he didn’t want to do.

         When Second Story Man opens, Hoyt is headed back north, and right behind him are two lawmen, Charlie Floyd and Manny Perez who, like Hoyt, consider themselves the best at what they do. And so, the stage is set for a classic cat-and-mouse game. Who’s going to win? But more important, how far will each of them go to come out on top?

         Hoyt taunts Floyd and Perez, daring them to catch him. Floyd and Perez take the bait. How each man pushes the envelope in order to win, is at the heart of the novel. The stakes escalate, as the story moves forward. Obviously, I don’t want to give too much away, but I refer you to Machiavelli and the question of,

Do the ends justify the means?

         If I’m at all successful, when you finish reading the book you’ll stop a moment and ask yourself how important winning is to you and, most of all, how important should it be?

HANK: Ooh. May I say--I loved this book? And I am way too competitive. You all know that. As Charles says—how important is it to you to win? Or your spouse, or kids? And what do you think about that?  

         

SECOND STORY MAN

Francis Hoyt, arrogant, athletic, brilliant, manipulative and ruthless, is a master burglar. He specializes in stealing high-end silver, breaking into homes that seem impenetrable. He’s never been caught in the act, although he has spent some time in prison on a related charge, time he used to hone his craft and make valuable connections. (Hoyt is based on two real-life master burglars: the so-called Dinnertime Bandit, who only stole when his victims were home, and The Silver Thief, who was only interested in high-end silver). Hoyt follows the money. In the winter, he works down south, primarily in southern Florida and Georgia, around the Atlanta area. Summers, he moves back up north, where he plies his trade in New York, New Jersey, Connecticut and Massachusetts.

One day, Charlie Floyd, brilliant, stubborn, an experienced investigator, who has recently retired from his job with the attorney general’s department for the state of Connecticut, receives a phone call from Manny Perez, a Cuban-American Miami police detective. Perez, who’s worked with Floyd previously, wants to enlist the former investigator in his efforts to put an end to Francis Hoyt’s criminal career. Floyd accepts the offer and they team up to bring Hoyt to justice.

Second Story Man, told in alternating chapters, representing Hoyt’s, Floyd’s and Perez’s points-of-view, develops into a cat-and-mouse contest between the two lawmen and this master burglar. As Floyd and Perez get closer to their prey, Hoyt finds out they’re after him and rather than backing down, he taunts them, daring them to bring him in. As the story develops, the stakes get higher and higher, and Hoyt, who is always concerned about proving he’s the best at what he does, even resorts to murder. Eventually, the story climaxes in a confrontation between the three men.