Don't taunt the alligator until after you've crossed the creek.

The words of Dan Rather, “Don’t taunt the alligator until after you’ve crossed the creek,” are spoken like an old proverb of the wilderness. They warn against arrogance before victory is secure, and against pride while danger still surrounds you. The alligator is the lurking threat, patient and silent, and the creek is the perilous path that must be crossed. To mock the beast before you are safe is to tempt ruin; to wait until you stand on firm ground is to show the wisdom of restraint.

The ancients often taught this truth in tales of hubris. The Greeks told of warriors who boasted too soon, only to be cut down by fate. To celebrate before the danger has passed is to blind oneself to its teeth. In every age, the wise counseled patience: cross first, boast later. For in the realm of both politics and life, the peril you think conquered may yet rise again, and the enemy you taunt may still strike with deadly force.

History gives us many witnesses. Consider the fateful Battle of Cannae, where the Romans, believing Hannibal’s forces weakened, pressed forward with overconfidence. They had not yet “crossed the creek.” The Carthaginian general encircled them, and Rome’s pride was drowned in blood. Their alligator had not been vanquished, only provoked. Only through patience and caution in later years did Rome finally overcome its great foe.

Rather’s words also apply to the quiet battles of everyday life. In business, in negotiation, in personal struggle—never count the harvest before the seed has sprouted. The creek must be crossed in full, the danger fully behind you, before triumph can be claimed. The lesson is not only one of humility, but of survival.

Let this wisdom be carried forward: the true warrior does not need to taunt. He endures the danger in silence, crosses the creek with steady steps, and only when the beast is left behind does he lift his head in triumph. For to tempt fate is folly, but to master it with patience is strength. And so the elders say—finish the crossing before you dance upon the shore.