Play Free(ly)

The quarterback on television throws an egregious interception. Across his body, down the middle, into a throng of guys wearing the wrong color. He jerks his chin strap off as he jogs off the field.

 "The hardest part," says Announcer #1, "is forgetting the pass rush, forgetting the interception. Next series, you have to let it go. Play free."

"Let's see how he reacts," says Announcer #2. "The clock is against them."

"If they get the ball back, he has to go out there and let it rip. Just play football."

The camera stays glued to this quarterback. His every facial expression. Every muttered swear. And every time the opposing team advances a yard, they cut to him on the sideline, anxiously pacing. Powerless.

"The guys in your huddle have to be able to look you in the eyes and see that you're not rattled. Even if you have no idea what you're doing -- as the quarterback, you can't let it show," says Announcer #1.

And I'm wondering if people commentate on my performances like this. "Let's see if he can recover from that loose cymbal stand. Unplugged mic. Poor stage placement." Are they scrutinizing my eyes for fear?

If they are, they won't find any. Because on stage, I'm calm. Confident. Ready to let every song rip. It takes time and failure, but once you learn to play freely, live freely -- people notice that, and little else.