---
title: "What is a scrub?"
description: "Devin Sirlin applied the term scrub to a specific type of player he saw in the fighting-game circuit.  This person stops improving and fails to win because they create self-imposed rules that get in their way.  This concept goes far beyond getting good at video games or winning competitions.  It applies to everything in life.  How are you creating self-imposed rules that conflict with your goals?"
---

Let me just start this by saying I have a deep fear of failure. I spend a lot of time and energy on preparation and analysis in order to avoid it. Many times the failure is only in my own eyes and that's something that I endeavor to let go of.

This had lead me to That can often ironically lead to failure! I've come to realize many subtle ways in which I can take responsibility for my own success. Much of this is around re-framing success and re-framing what I can do.

One author that had a big impact on me is [David Sirlin](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Sirlin). He wrote a great mini-book from his blog, [sirlin.net](https://sirlin.net), called [Playing to Win](https://sirlin.squarespace.com/ptw). It's a treatise about how to learn how to win in competitive pursuits. He made his gaming career playing [Street Fighter](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Street_Fighter), but also designing and balancing competitive video and table-top games, so that's the context he's coming from.

I dabble in competitive games. They are something I really enjoy, but I don't play them at a particularly competitive level. However, the concepts really stuck with me.

## What is a scrub?

One of his key terms is the participant he calls [the scrub](https://sirlin.squarespace.com/ptw-book/introducingthe-scrub). It's a very specific definition and a useful one, even if I think the condescension implied by the name is unhelpful. I'll let him define it with a few excerpts.

> A scrub is a player who is handicapped by self-imposed rules that the game knows nothing about. A scrub does not play to win.
>
> Now, everyone begins as a poor player—it takes time to learn a game to get to a point where you know what you’re doing. There is the mistaken notion, though, that by merely continuing to play or “learn” the game, one can become a top player. In reality, the “scrub” has many more mental obstacles to overcome than anything actually going on during the game. The scrub has lost the game even before it starts. He’s lost the game even before deciding which game to play. His problem? He does not play to win.
>
> [...]
>
> The first step in becoming a top player is the realization that playing to win means doing whatever most increases your chances of winning. That is true by definition of playing to win. The game knows no rules of “honor” or of “cheapness.” The game only knows winning and losing.
>
> A common call of the scrub is to cry that the kind of play in which one tries to win at all costs is “boring” or “not fun.” Who knows what objective the scrub has, but we know his objective is not truly to win. Yours is. Your objective is good and right and true, and let no one tell you otherwise. You have the power to dispatch those who would tell you otherwise, anyway. Simply beat them.

That's a pretty harsh description of a type of person we have likely known, been, are and will-be. I think it's bit too harsh, but there's something very useful here.

I think if you took this literally you might focus entirely on winning. However, I think that's actually scrub-behavior for most people! Most people who focus solely on winning have created a narrow mindset that actually limits their ability to thrive in their chosen sport, hobby, vocation and life.

## There's more than just winning

Sirlin examines the scrub from a very narrow context: winning the game. This is itself a self-imposed rule. It is deciding that the only thing that matters in the game is your final score and your tournament standings.

This is a very narrow way to play a game. What is it you might want out of a game? There are so many other things to optimize for: teaching, growing the community, making friends, personal fulfillment. It's not uncommon that people will drive themselves to succeed only to incur great physical, emotional and interpersonal costs. How many athletes damage their bodies in their youth? How many entrepreneurs sacrifice their relationships for their business?

You have to ask yourself, what are you working for? Why do you want to win? Do you think it will bring you happiness or is that just an assumption that creates a mental obstacle and prevents you from seeing the happiness all around you?

## Growth and Goals

There are two key aspects of a scrub that make them stand out as undesirable models of behavior: they don't learn or improve and they don't reach their goals. Any non-trivial goal requires that we grow and learn to be able to reach our goals, otherwise you could trivially achieve them and then they aren't goals anymore. Anything worth doing and talking about requires change.

Growth can be the goal in itself, but generally it's in service of a goal. Growth without a goal is really just play. It's exploring and trying new things for their own sake. Children do this really well before they learn to think ahead and compare themselves to others. Adults do it very poorly because we tend to think ahead compare ourselves to others or abstract ideas of what we should be.

Turning your play into work is a surefire way to make it unpleasant. The only thing that keeps us going through the unpleasant times is hope for some reward at the end.

## Understanding Failure

> If you never lose, you are never truly tested, and never forced to grow. A loss is an opportunity to learn.

## The danger of always playing to win

TODO

If you focus only on winning you may miss out on goals that actually fulfill your needs.

## How to set good goals

TODO

What makes a good goal? What are you optimizing for?

## Other Quotes

> I once played a scrub who was actually quite good. That is, he knew the rules of the game well, he knew the character matchups well, and he knew what to do in most situations. But his web of mental rules kept him from truly playing to win. He cried cheap as I beat him with “no skill moves” while he performed many difficult dragon punches. He cried cheap when I threw him five times in a row asking, “Is that all you know how to do? Throw?” I gave him the best advice he could ever hear. I told him, “Play to win, not to do ‘difficult moves.’” This was a big moment in that scrub’s life. He could either ignore his losses and continue living in his mental prison or analyze why he lost, shed his rules, and reach the next level of play.
