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I think we can all agree that buying a new car is one of the most painful experiences you’re likely to have.

But we like new cars. We love new things in general. Driving a new car is fun and exhilarating.

So then why is buying one so unpleasant?

It’s simple. The sales person is probably a commission-only employee and his compensation is based on the profit margin of the sale. Hence, he’s actually incented to sell you the car for the worst deal he can manage. As a result, there’s natural friction between the two of you.

It’s a shame. Automotive manufacturers spend a fortune on branding and marketing to have much of that goodwill and trust thrown away by an over eager sales rep just trying to make a living.

Simply put, the incentive structure is broken.

It’s not easy to quantify a gut feeling. But it certainly seems, these days, that NBA basketball is a shell of its former self, both in terms of the product on the court and its mainstream appeal.

By one measure -- Nielsen ratings for the Finals -- the NBA is holding steady. The Finals consistently out-draw the MLB World Series, for one, but that’s hardly a massive compliment. If you really dig into the numbers, you’ll see that basketball’s popularity is still a far cry from its peak in the late 80s to late 90s, when the sport’s greatest legends dazzled the world with ability like we had never seen before.

The NBA looks to be holding steady, sure, but when you stop and reflect on the glory days -- it’s really just treading water. So what happened?

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.

We recently reached out to an industry contact because we wanted to use his firm for an upcoming high consideration / high value purchase (I’m being intentionally vague here). We've known him for a few years and he's always been a super nice guy. When we began looking at options together, he was friendly, knowledgeable, and made it clear that he'd take great care of us. Everything was going great.

And then the emails started.

The drip marketing emails. You know the type. They started trickling into our inbox, offering us all kinds of promotions we had no use for and consultations on products we didn’t want. He had added our name to some database, and now we were on the hook for every intrusive email his company wanted to put out.

Peyton Manning may be the greatest football player of all time, but not because he overwhelms opponents with his physical talents.

He’s renowned for his study habits and the way he rigorously breaks down opponent film. He self scouts. He works with position coaches to refine his already near perfect mechanics and his elite understanding of the game. So you’d think a player like Manning wouldn’t need structured practice. He knows the playbook like he wrote it. He’s seen every blitz package and every coverage disguise a defensive coordinator could possibly throw at him. He’s the gold standard at his position.

But the man shows up to practice the same way he did in his rookie year. He attacks every rep, every drill, every scrimmage as if it were the final play of the Super Bowl. He takes practice seriously as an opportunity to hone his craft even though he’s already a master.

He’s a living blueprint for what it takes to become great.

People have argued for centuries whether humans are innately good or evil. Recently, psychology and neuroscience have helped us gain new insights into how we think, but the argument remains.

What we do know is that life can be tough. Life can be complicated. Many times we don’t make the best decisions. Too often we see people acting selfish, petty, and shortsighted.

However, I think that when you look at people in the midst of hardship and tragedy, you start to see how much good each of us really has to offer. Because when people really need help, we always pitch in.