George had an idea to solve Jerry’s dating problem involving a stoic-seeming woman and her comic-loving roommate. The idea was so inspired, so devious, so simple…Jerry ran with it. The play wasn’t just successful–it was historical (in George’s eyes, anyway). The win was Jerry’s, the wide receiver now holding the ball in the end zone, but judging by quarterback George’s dance…you would’ve thought he was the one who scored.
George’s confessed craziness in the face of confirmed brilliance (for one shining moment, anyway) is the real genius here. If the line between genius and crazy is as fine as gossamer—and, as you know, one doesn’t dissect gossamer—George straddled that line, triumphant, like he’d just won the Super Bowl and pulled a quarterback switch to do it. The microphones came his way…and he belted his dementia to the back row.
This is not something most people do. We’re quick to point it out (You’re crazy) but even quicker to deny it (What do you think I am, crazy?)—never mind that we’re all a little bit crazy. You could cure cancer someday and someone, somewhere, will be thinking while applauding, See that guy? Cuckooo. Genius is indeed rare, but rarer still is the person who admits their craziness, which is why people like Jerry couldn’t help but love George. People will love you too if you’re not afraid to get out there and belt your dementia to the back row.
Or someone, somewhere, will applaud you, anyway.
From “The Switch”
Episode 10, Season 6
Seinfeld Volume 5, Disc 2
Timecode for the scene: 20:35