Ok guys, let’s talk about this.

Yes, I’m talking to you, teammates.  I know you’re reading these too.  I have set up a new branch on Vision Project entitled “Dodgeball”, and assigned you all a ticket entitled “EXPLANATION PLEASE”.  You’ll notice that the due date is last Thursday – see, if I could just have the reasons why we were collectively plotting our demise by then, perhaps we could all avoid any further public disgrace.

We had uniforms guys.  We had tenacity, wow-factor.  Yet we marched onto that dodgeball court, and for forty-five minutes physically insisted that the other team destroy not only our record, but our dignity and our pride.

Maybe that was a bit harsh.  After all, we were blighted by a few unforeseen circumstances.  There was the pandemic cold that disabled at least four of our players (perhaps planted by the last team?  Active’s lab technician says it’s still too early to tell), knocking us to two below the recommended team size.  And in unfortunate symmetry, our opponents managed to recruit what appeared to be a small village in their favor.  From the beginning we stood there like an improper fraction, counting the opposing team – is that really what ten people look like?  Are those guys on the left playing?  How many subs did they bring?  It was the dodgeball incarnation of Legion.  With each ball they caught, a clawing mass of flesh attempted to push out only one person from the sidelines, while the rest laughed and cheered heartily like hell through a reverb pedal.

Once again, we had a crisis of self confidence.

“Get changed so we can lose.” Kristal greeted me as I entered the gym.  I was a bit late – parking had been a nightmare, I had needed to borrow quarters from a stranger – but I had made it, we had made it, the eight of us that had survived the office plague.  Come to think of it, a zombie movie is another good metaphor for the night’s events.

Yet I am not going to blame the small team, the large team, or the prophetic bad attitude for this defeat.  No, what ruined our chances was a much more subtle slap to the face, the proverbial insult to our injury – these guys had strategy.

Not “don’t get hit by the ball” strategy, but real, chess-like contemplation.  They rationed their destruction like a timed sprinkler head – a little here, a little there, until the whole lawn was soaked; while we gushed emphatically like a garden hose.

Now, if you want to develop a strategy, there is one person to talk to at Active Website – Cody.  As our SEO guru, Cody has mild pre-cognitive abilities that allow him to pull page rankings, site statistics, and Keyword Effectiveness Indexes without looking; often before his morning, afternoon, and evening coffee.  I imagine the inside of his head to be a deluge of informational anarchy, yet despite this he exudes a soft spoken, Zen exterior not unlike a Buddhist priest.

“You wanted to discuss our strategy?” he asks me, his words drifting around the room like dandelion seeds.  It is dark inside Cody’s office; the glow from his desktop monitors, ticking silently various algorithms and graphs, illuminate a tea cup in his right hand.  He takes a sip, clears his throat.

“I have seen our team.”  he says.  “We know nothing of strategy.”

“I know.”  I respond.  “I have come to learn.  Please Cody,” I beg. “Teach us.”

I can hear him swivel slightly in his bright red office chair, rustling papers.  After a long pause, he begins to speak.

“The world of dodgeball is not unlike the world of SEO.” he explains.  “Good luck is the result of good planning.”

He hands me a fortune cookie slip.  No joke, this really happened.  Cody is so Zen it hurts sometimes.

“I got this in November of last year, when I was planning out our SEO schedule for 2010.” he says.  “So far it has been right.”  On the fortune is written this exact phrase, only in all caps, making the implications seem more severe.  GOOD LUCK IS THE RESULT OF GOOD PLANNING!

“Take the world of information.” Cody explains.  “Of keywords.  Say you have a hundred keywords you’d like to target.  You can’t take them all, you’re outnumbered.  You must pick your battles, rationalize what is possible.” he explains. “The supreme excellence is not to win a hundred victories in a hundred battles. The supreme excellence is to subdue the armies of your enemies without even having to fight them.  Lao Tzu said that.”

“But what does this mean, Cody?” I ask him.

“For SEO, it means working intelligently.” he continues.  “You target keywords you care the most about, not all of them.  You don’t battle page rankings with brute force, with duplicate content and brash anger – you link information, you sow deep fields of keyword-rich content, and most importantly,” he says, pointing to a Google Analytics statistics page, “You wait.  Patience is the key.  Like a rubber plant, what is small today will one day cast shadows upon that which was inpatient, unplanned.”

Ah, if only Cody could throw.  At the time, that seems a lot more important.  But as I turn to walk away, he stops me.

“Its not too late Nick.  But you mustn’t rely solely on the power of your strength, even of your heart.  These things will only take you so far.”

“I know.” I say.  As I return to the bustling, well-lit office, our conversation lingers in my mind, like the ghosts of sentences that remain on classroom chalkboards even after they’ve been erased.

By Nick Anderson