Passing the Baton: A Tangible Takeaway

The author passing the baton to Richard Tapia with a high school handoff.

When traveling we’re often focused on the destination. Yet it’s the inherently risky transitions along the way that help us get there; misplaced keys or a lost passport can derail everything. Lately I’ve been thinking about transitions—those moments when we move from one activity to another.

High School Lessons

These reflections were prompted by a recent trip on the wayback machine—back to high school and lessons learned as a member of the varsity track team. Although lacking natural sprinting speed, my long stride suited middle-distance races like 880 yards (800 meters). I also ran the third leg of the mile relay (4 x 400 meters) for Orange Glen High School. Four runners, one lap each, baton passed three times before the anchor drove to the finish line. Most teams in the Avocado League used a so-called distance handoff—a runner, their back to the inside of the track, waited to receive the baton before moving. Often the approaching runner had to slow down to make the exchange.

Our team did the opposite. We used a sprinter’s handoff—a fast, blind exchange that demanded precision and trust. When your teammate’s foot struck a predetermined mark in the exchange zone, you exploded forward, eyes fixed ahead. On your third stride, you swung your arm back, palm up, as your teammate—still running at full speed—placed the baton into your hand. No looking. No hesitation. Done right, it shaved seconds. Done poorly, it lost the race.

Coach Turner had us practice relentlessly. Both runners moving, perfectly synchronized. But speed alone wasn’t enough—you had to feel where your teammate was. It was a matter of trust.

Transitions Shape Outcomes

That lesson travels well. In business, science, or the arts, success often hinges less on individual performance than on how well transitions are executed. You can run your leg perfectly and still lose if the handoff fails. Strong teams rehearse transitions. They anticipate variables. They understand how each person’s work connects to the next. A clean exchange won’t compensate for weak effort—but without it, even great work can falter.

Collaboration & Communication

Creative advertising depends on this kind of interplay. Writers articulate the message; art directors shape its visual form. They may begin together (for me, that ideally happens over coffee) but usually split up to develop ideas independently. Then comes the handoff: a critical exchange where words and images merge into a single concept.

The process is iterative. Writers refine visuals; art directors sharpen language. The best ideas emerge in the back-and-forth.

I experienced this firsthand working on ad campaigns ranging from CNN to Star Trek with the late Peter Thornburgh. His writing blended the punch of sports journalism with the cadence of the King James Bible. At first glance, his copy could feel too bold—almost jarring. He knew that. That’s why he insisted on walking me through it.

These caffeinated handoffs were an important part of our process. As I sketched and tested his words, I began to see what he saw. Peter had presented not just clever phrases, but but a catalyst for visuals to complete the concept.

Leadership works the same way. A briefing is a handoff. As a creative director, if I hear a dismissive response from creative teams like, “Yeah, yeah, got it,” I'm not sure they really did. Something’s likely been dropped. Real understanding comes from engagement—questions, clarification, dialogue. That’s what ensures a clean exchange.

Back to School

I see this dynamic in teaching as well. In an intensive three-week course—Communication, Design & Innovation at California State University Northridge (in partnership with International Business School Americas)—my colleague Keith Gosselin and I coordinate closely to create a seamless transition for students. In week one, Keith teaches core marketing principles and guides product development. In weeks two and three, I lead students in building 360º campaigns to brand those products. Our modules overlap by design, and we stay in communication about student progress and goals. Instructional continuity is further realized when Keith distributes our SwârtAd Branding Questionnaire, which helps students hit the ground running in the following week.

Musical Interplay

Of course, baton passing isn’t restricted to education, advertising, or even track and field. Consider the partnership between lyricist Lorenz Hart and composer Richard Rodgers, dramatized in the film Blue Moon. Trusting in his collaborator's talent, Rodgers passed his completed music to Hart who, without missing a beat, responded with witty lyrics. The success of their Broadway musicals, such as Pal Joey, was due to a remarkable knack for matching sophisticated words to syncopated melodies. Some of their best-loved songs include "Isn't it Romantic", "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered", "My Funny Valentine", and of course, "Blue Moon". While it lasted, theirs was a sparkling exchange.

An Epic Conclusion

As I finished this piece, the spacecraft Orion splashed down off the coast of San Diego. The mission around dark side of the Moon depended on countless transitions—between engineers, mission control, flight crews, and Navy recovery teams. Indeed, the crew had named their craft “Integrity” to acknowledge the trust between them and the various teams involved.

Each transition had to be exact. The margin for error was slim. Watching the astronauts being retrieved from the capsule, helicopters hovering above, I was struck by the choreography of it all. It was a demonstration to the world that well-executed handoffs enable successful outcomes.

©Alex Swart 2026