Being good at GameDays doesn't sell your product.
Think about what your customers actually buy. Whatever it is the app, the platform, the widgets you lose sleep over they buy that. They don't buy your ability to run elegant chaos experiments. Nobody has ever signed a contract because of a vendor's GameDay program.
But the scoreboard is lopsided: done well, resilience is invisible no customer ever emailed to praise your failover. Done badly, it's the only thing they remember. Your customers can't tell the difference between a team that rehearses failure and one that doesn't until the day it matters, and by then they've already told everyone about the outage.
They never reward the skill
No renewal email has ever said “thank you for your excellent chaos tooling.” Customers reward the product. The resilience that protects it is expected, silent, and invisible when it works.
They always notice the absence
One bad outage undoes years of feature work. The story your customers retell is never “they have great tooling” it's “they were down for six hours.”
So it's for them, not for you
A GameDay isn't an engineering achievement to admire. It's how the product your customer depends on keeps its promise quietly, on a Tuesday, while you ship.
The GameDay was never for you. It's how your product keeps its promise.