Take it to Eleven: The Ultimate Performance Mindset
“This pretentious, ponderous group of rock psalms prompts the question: on what day did God create Spinal Tap, and couldn’t he have rested on that day too?”
“This one goes to eleven.”
A classic line from a timeless movie: these go to eleven. Most amplifiers only go to 10. Spinal Tap take it one further.
In matter of fact is eleven any louder than ten? No. It isn’t. But in spirit it is much more.
Apply the “take it to eleven” litmus test in everything you do. Ask yourself, every time—“have I taken this to eleven?”
It is a self-check; a moment of reprieve to examine is this my very best work? My greatest effort? A positive impression of myself and my contribution?
This is critical in the competitive field of sales, where the difference between “great job” and finishing number one demands relentless commitment to optimal performance.
It’s the thrill of the hunt. It’s working at the grindstone early mornings when other salespeople sleep. It’s doing administrative tasks during off hours, keeping prime time exclusively for engaging clients. It’s the extra sales call when your competition are hanging it up for the day.
It’s the non-stop commitment to prospecting—even when times are great—knowing full well that sales funnel must stay bursting at the seams for continued success.
The top sales representative on your team takes it to eleven. They make more money. They’ve earned more respect. They have fought hard for their accolades. If you care to join them, you must as well.
Did I take this to eleven? It’s the question you never stop asking.
Others may be comfortable with seven. Some, eight; eight-and-a-half to nine. The greatest: ten. But you are greater than the greatest. And your work is greater than ten.
The old name is out.
Eleven is now your middle name.
Let the world know—in tasks big and small—every single time—
you take it to eleven.
Mark Eleven Huckabee
Nigel Tufnel: The sustain, listen to it.
Marty DiBergi: I don’t hear anything.
Nigel Tufnel: Well you would though, if it were playing.
________
Marty DiBergi: The two-word review for Shark Sandwich— sh*t sandwich.
________
David St. Hubbins: I do not, for one, think that the problem was that the band was down. I think that the problem may have been, that there was a Stonehenge monument on the stage that was in danger of being crushed by a dwarf. Alright? That tended to understate the hugeness of the object.
Ian Faith: I really think you're just making much too big a thing out of it.
Derek Smalls: Making a big thing out of it would have been a good idea.
________
David St. Hubbins: I believe virtually everything I read, and I think that is what makes me more of a selective human than someone who doesn't believe anything.
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Marty DiBergi: Do you feel that playing rock 'n' roll music keeps you a child? That is, keeps you in a state of arrested development?
Derek Smalls: No. No. No. I feel it's like, it's more like going, going to a, a national park or something. And there's, you know, they preserve the moose. And that's, that's my childhood up there on stage. That moose, you know.
Marty DiBergi: So when you're playing you feel like a preserved moose on stage?
Derek Smalls: Yeah.
________
David St. Hubbins: He died in a bizarre gardening accident...
Nigel Tufnel: Authorities said... best leave it... unsolved.
________
Marty DiBergi: David St. Hubbins... I must admit I've never heard anybody with that name.
David St. Hubbins: It's an unusual name. Well, he was an unusual saint. He's not a very well-known saint.
Marty DiBergi: Oh, there actually is, uh... there was a St. Hubbins?
David St. Hubbins: That's right, yes.
Marty DiBergi: What was he the saint of?
David St. Hubbins: He was the patron saint of quality footwear.
