Confessions of a Compet-O-Bot

Compet-O-Bot (noun)

A highly competitive individual who approaches every game, challenge, or contest with enthusiasm and intensity. A Compet-O-Bot thrives on testing their skills, outsmarting opponents, and savoring both the strategy and the thrill of competition. Often unstoppable once engaged, they exhibit a contagious energy and a love for the art of winning.

Ex: "Did you see how intense she was at practice today? We got a real Compet-O-Bot on our hands!"

What do I think about guilty pleasures? Love them. They’re a secret seasoning in life, a little spark that makes your pulse jump and your grin tilt into mischief. Mine doesn’t come in the form of chocolate truffles or late-night TV binges but instead lives on the hardwood, echoing with squeaky shoes and the bounce of a ball. My guilty pleasure has always been basketball. Not just basketball itself, but the competitive feel of the game; the moments where skill and swagger blur together. The plays that make your opponent’s shoulders drop just a little. I have always loved making people feel bad in basketball—not in a mean way, but in that competitive, deliciously confident way that says, “Yeah, I just did that.”. That right there is my secret seasoning.

One instance of this guilty pleasure is when I’m on defense and I pick the pocket of the person I’m guarding. My sneaky steal strips the ball cleanly from the opponent, like robbing someone in broad daylight and walking away, whistling. There’s a tiny pause where the poor victim hurries to realize what just happened, and by then I’m already off to the races on a fast break. The rush of sprinting down the court, the echo of sneakers chasing behind me, laying the ball up unguarded as the closest defender curses from ten strides behind…tell me that’s not euphoric.

And then there’s the jump ball. More specifically, the kind of jump ball that happens when someone tries going up for a layup expecting contact or a foul, but instead, gets outsmarted. When an opponent makes a strong move to the basket, I can see the gleam in their eyes, convinced they have a clear path straight to the rim, either about to get 2 points or at least a trip to the free throw line. That’s when my opportunity appears –I race to beat them to the spot they’re driving, and right when they take their leap, I get both hands on the ball and hold firm. If all goes according to plan, they will suddenly be suspended in the air, unable to release the shot while we both cling to the ball as I backpedal under the hoop from their momentum. Because they’ve left the ground and we’re both holding onto the ball, it becomes a “jump ball.” The next possession always depends on the tip-off… but I’m rarely thinking about that. I’m immersed in the satisfaction of ruining a great move, taking control of the play, and leaving the offense staring at each other with that silent, “Wait. What just happened?” look. 

Basketball is a game of runs. Throughout the forty minutes, there are highs, lows, and everything in between. I hesitate to admit it, but when I sense the other team slipping into a low point, a quiet sense of anticipation rises within me. I can feel the shift when their team starts to unravel—missed passes, hushed frustrations, that one player staring down at her shoes instead of meeting anyone’s eyes. Adding fuel to this flame is another example of my guilty pleasure. In those moments, I find a certain satisfaction in maintaining my composure and amplifying my team’s energy. A small grin, a louder clap, a few encouraging words, all subtle gestures that continue our momentum while goading my opponent's frustration. It’s not about taunting or arrogance, but about understanding the psychology of the game: how confidence can be contagious, and how a calm presence can change the rhythm of play. Riding the updraft from a team on the brink of defeat is a gratification I will always take part in.

So yes, my guilty pleasure isn’t sweet or cinematic; it’s sweaty, fast, and fueled by adrenaline. Some might call it harsh or unsportsmanlike, but I’d argue that these competitive indulgences are at the heart of what basketball truly is. They bring out a deeper layer of focus, strategy, and instinct. I allow myself to embrace my competitiveness without apology, I notice the subtle rhythms of the game, the silent mental battles, and the small assertions of control that shape its flow. In those moments, the thrill isn’t just in winning—it’s in understanding, anticipating, and participating fully in the life of the game. Frankly, I believe guilt has no place on the court as there is only room for the quiet satisfaction of navigating the game within the game.

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Lauren Rubinstein is a lifelong athlete who played collegiate basketball at Brandeis University, where she developed a strong foundation in teamwork, discipline, and leadership. Originally from Boston, she recently relocated to San Diego, California, to embrace a more active, outdoor lifestyle. She currently works on the Clinical Operations team at a Neumora Therapeutics, where she takes pride in being apart of a team helping to advance medicine in Neurodegenerative diseases. Outside of work, she enjoys spending time outdoors, staying active, and exploring new places. She shares her home with her two cats, Teddy and Benny, and her best friend/college teammate Camila.

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