So, we actually got out and played a shamble golf format the other day. It was… quite the round, let me tell you. I’d heard of it, of course, but experiencing it firsthand is always a bit different, isn’t it?
The basic idea, as I got it on the first tee, was that everyone in the group tees off. Then, we all walk (or ride, in our case, thank goodness) to what we agree is the best drive among us. From that single spot, each of us then plays our own ball for the rest of the hole. So, a little bit of teamwork to get a good start, then you’re on your own to either shine or, well, not shine.
It kind of reminded me, funnily enough, of this old project I was stuck on, way back when. Not golf, obviously, but the whole setup felt like a “shamble” in its own special way. Just a complete mess that somehow had to pretend it was organized.
The “Synergy” Project Fiasco
This was years ago. I was at this company, and they decided we needed a massive “synergy” project to combine two departments that, frankly, couldn’t stand each other. The big bosses had their meeting, made some grand pronouncements – that was our “best drive,” I suppose. A beautiful, soaring vision of efficiency and collaboration, dropped right in the middle of the fairway.
And then? Well, then it was like everyone picked up their ball from that “perfect spot” and just started whacking it in whatever direction they pleased.
- One department head, let’s call him Bob, decided “synergy” meant his department would just tell the other one what to do. His ball was heading straight for the ego bunker.
- The other head, Sarah, thought “synergy” meant doubling her budget and hiring all her friends. Her ball was aiming for the corporate credit card, deep in the rough.
- And us worker bees? We were just trying to play our individual shots towards some semblance of a green, but the pin kept moving, or vanishing entirely.
I remember trying to get a simple process documented, something that both departments actually did. You’d think that’d be straightforward. But from our “best drive” of “let’s work together,” I’d go to Bob, and he’d say, “Just make sure it shows I’m in charge.” Then I’d go to Sarah, and she’d say, “This doesn’t reflect my team’s innovative approach at all!” It felt like we all started from the same point, but we were playing completely different holes, maybe even different sports.
We had endless meetings. Oh, the meetings! We’d all sit there, nodding, while someone presented a slide deck that had absolutely nothing to do with what anyone else was doing. It was like everyone was reporting their score on their own imaginary hole. The “synergy” was nowhere to be found. Just a lot of polite friction and wasted coffee.
There was this one consultant they brought in, cost a fortune. He looked at our “progress” after three months, stroked his chin, and said, “Remarkable. You’ve all certainly been… active.” Active. Yes, that was the word. Like a hive of bees where every bee is trying to build its own honeycomb in a different shape.
In the end, the project just sort of… fizzled. They declared some minor, cosmetic changes a “success,” and everyone quietly went back to their old ways, just with a bit more resentment. It was like everyone agreed on the tee shot, then shanked every subsequent shot into oblivion, and we all just wrote down “par” to save face.
So, when we were out there playing that shamble golf format, and after a great drive, one guy in our foursome hooked his second shot into the trees, another topped his into the creek, and the third somehow ended up on the wrong fairway… it all felt very familiar. You start with high hopes from that one good spot, but what happens next is anyone’s guess.
Sometimes, in golf, it leads to a great team score. Other times, it’s just a vivid reminder that even with a good start, things can get pretty scrambled. Just like that “synergy” project. Makes you appreciate a simple scramble format even more, or maybe just a quiet walk in the park. Yeah, probably the quiet walk.
