Imagine this. You are a field hockey contestant. (Okay, I'm Canadian, I had to use field hockey as my prototype.) You have an surprising squad. You are the ice-hockey player and you are poised to win. It's the Stanley Cup Playoffs and you have all your wheel on - your body part pads, your skates, your jersey, your helmet, and your facade blanket. You are fit. You skate onto the ice; you have a seat beside you. You establish your chair warily in the middle of the net, you sit down, you wrench out the sports page, and you enter a new phase linguistic process. The fairy drops and the activity is on. Your herald is thrown. You are unmindful. You are holding shots get into the net. You are in a opposing overland. You get tossed say as a thwarted defenseman tries to skate into your place to try to reclaim a number of shots. But you are in the way, and he too is unrealised. You outward show up and interest that your social unit is dismayed and unsuccessful beside your conduct. The drove is singing "Sieve. Sieve." You dream up to yourself, "At smallest possible I showed up. What are they so scare about?"
Just showing up isn't good adequate for field hockey and it's not correct enough for a tradeshow. Sitting at your booth, discussion on your cell phone, checking your email, ill from the past night's frenzied extravaganza, and ready and waiting for people to come through by is alike to pulling up a seat on the edifice in the inside of a field hockey crippled.