The Fruits of Failure

It's too late now, of course, but I find that over the years I have been completely misled. I blame this on my parents and schoolmasters who drummed it into me that, to be a success in life, one had to be good at your job.
This archaic hangover from the ethos of a Victorian era might have been acceptable for the 20th. Century but for the 21st. it's a non-starter.
Take for instance, the job of managing a football team. It is an acknowledged fact that I am unable to tell one side of a football from another but I am equally assured that I could have done a better job than the late incumbent. And where is he now? Building his villa in Barbados.
And the former boss of a bank, who conclusively proved that he should not have been allowed out unsupervised with a post office savings book, has trousered a handsome sum for his retirement by losing a large chunk of change for his investors.
Let's not get into politics but, as I know nothing of them, I would have been ideal for the post of deputy prime minister. Two jags, a chauffeur and a secretary to bonk at the taxpayer's expense – I don't know how I was overlooked.
Then perhaps there's the job of managing security at a large government department. Provided you are sufficiently incompetent to cock the whole thing up, there's a handsome performance bonus for you at the end of the day.
So you can see that all this striving to become good at your job is a complete waste of time. The government are now coming round to this way of thinking by making the A-level examinations harder. This means that the pass rate will be whittled down a bit from the current near 100% to say 97%.
This 3% are destined for great success, I feel.
And, come to think of it, for two and a half million quid, I could put up with being booed at Wembley and even being referred to as “the wally with the brolly.”
It's just one of the fruits of failure.