Brian Johnson explores how toughness and warmth coexist through two examples: a Toronto FC player known for both physical intensity and kindness, and the New Zealand All Blacks' haka, a ritual that channels fierce power and deep love simultaneously, especially when performed to honor a fallen teammate.
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Hi, this is Brian. Welcome back to another heroic one. In the last couple 1s we've been talking about our Johnson family trip to the Toronto FC game and the complexity of healthy humans. Today I want to chat about one more example of that integration of opposites. First, quick context setting. As we discussed, I admired the TFC player who is a really tough player, who was also really thoughtful and kind when he flashed a loving smile and kicked that ball Emerson's way during their warm ups. Now, when I watched him do that and then celebrated him for the integration of toughness and warmth, I thought of the New Zealand All Blacks. More specifically, I thought of one of their most powerful hakas. A little more context and we'll get in. At the end of our notes on Sam Walker's great book the Captain Class, we talked about how the best teams and their captains exude a palpable sense of what the Mallory called mana, which is essentially what we call soul force. Now, one of the examples Sam uses to make his point is the New Zealand All Blacks and the captain of their best teams, Buck Shelford. Sam tells us that, and I quote, one of Shelford's most memorable qualities as captain was his dedication to a pre game ritual known as the haka. Then he tells us New Zealand's Maori tribe were renowned warriors, famous the world over for their intimidating facial tattoos, their skill at wielding giant staffs made of wood or whalebone in celebrating victories in battle by eating roasted hearts of their enemies. Yikes. The haka, which is basically a group dance, was an ancient component of Maori warcraft, a tightly choreographed spectacle of ignition performed in a variety of circumstances, but mainly before battle. The haka was meant to paralyze the enemy with dread by conveying the idea that the warriors had come under the influence of the gods. It was also used to create a collective frenzy among the warriors to put their bodies in perfect sync. The message it sent, as the haka expert Enia Maxwell put it, was that we're going to battle and we're not really expecting to come back alive or injury free. So let's throw everything at it. Now. As I was creating the note, I wanted to make sure I shared a haka so you could see it and feel the power of it. So I asked Chatgpt to give me the most viewed haka of all time. I found one with over 75 million views. You can check it out. It's incredible. It's linked in this plus one, but after watching that one I let YouTube feed up another one longer chat about those algorithms. And that's what I want to chat about today. So if you feel so inspired, check out this haka that I also linked to in the plus one. And I want you to know this. That haka was performed in honor of an all Black player who had died tragically. It begins with a Maori player on the opposing Irish side laying a jersey at the centerline of the field for the fallen hero. Then the haka begins with all of its ferocious intensity. Then the haka ends. Then the widow of the fallen all blacks player and their two young kids walks onto the field with those two young kids and they make their way to pick up the jersey that had been laid down before the haka began. And you can feel the pain and sorrow and love in those same warriors who just performed that fearless haka. It's a profound thing to witness. As the announcer says, it's hard to put into words just how powerful the moment was. Check it out. Seriously encourage you to check that out. And that's today's plus one. Once again, here's to resolving the apparent dichotomies of life in embracing the complexity of the human experience as we go out and give the world all we've got today.
