ACQ

From the day that it became apparent we needed adjectives to properly address athletic performance, there has been debate. The superlatives are easy, Everyone knows that ‘great’ applies to the Babe Ruth’s, the Wilt Chamberlin’s and the Water Payton’s of the sporting world. But after that, the judgments, ratings and assessments turn to muddy water. Sure there are Halls where the ‘best of the best’ hang their Fame, with criteria for entry continuously under the microscopic scrutiny of career statistics, but after that the stars give way to lore. The telling of stories, tales of the battles and endless recounts of the legends and their falls. 

All good. There is a certain charm in the verbal sequel that strives to find balance between hyperbole and fact. We know that the Bambino ‘most likely’ did not call his famous shot, still we want to believe it as it is part of a larger narrative that places our heroes head and shoulders above our garden-variety, blue-collar, utility men. Interestingly, and there is plenty of research available to review, we also respect the super-star’s polar extreme, the underdog. The guy or gal that absolutely has zero chance of victory, glory or success. David. 

With this as backstory, or opening footnote, it has always seemed to me that we are missing the larger point. Yes, it is tempting to limit the criteria to simple calculations, the most hits, the most points, the most TDs in determining greatness, but that leaves out so many other legitimate attributes and contributions. Intangibles. It makes it an individual, greedy, selfish run at simple stats ignoring the greater good of the team. An ‘I won’ in contrast to ‘we won’. 

It gets murkier and more opaque when we move away from the three major sports (both Pro and College) and into individual competitions. Here there is no team to rely upon. We are simply, wonderfully alone. Where you win, go fastest, farthest first, or not. There can be but a single winner. Just one. 

That is the only motivation? Was Al Davis right? Is it really as simple as ‘Just Win Baby’?

No. There is more. And we all know it. We don’t talk about it much because it reveals an important clause in the unwritten code. The clause that states that it may, under certain rare circumstances, be more important, fill a higher need or serve a more humanitarian purpose, to finish second. Not to lose mind you, but to give your best effort even if that necessitates sacrificing the glossy primary objective of getting the win at all cost. 

Dare I suggest, again, that it is the mysterious commodity known as perfect effort that truly separates the champions from all others. We see this play out in other areas as well. If you have to lie, steal, cheat, oppress, suppress or exploit others for your ‘victories’, they are not that at all. They are, in fact, the opposite, you become blinded by the dark light of ambition, greed, power and privilege. In the miasma of this false hubris they fail to see the real danger and ignore the possibility that their actions have repercussion. It is not, and never has been, about just winning. Winning is not stealing. 

There cannot be the slightest hint of impropriety, of unethical behavior, of actions unbecoming of a champion. There can be no skeletons in the closets of the past and no maps leading to buried bodies. This limits the field rather significantly and rather quickly. 

Which is, of course, the point. You cannot buy this. You cannot inherit it nor obtain it from a trust fund. It is not your birthright and no elite form of entitlement will automatically ensure it. It is not available at Amazon and never seen on TV.

You have to earn it. You have to sacrifice and work insanely hard, nose to grindstone and with bleeding fingers for it every single moment of your awakened life. You live it, breathe it and attach every option, choice and decision to its continual improvement. It is a glorious paradox that the easiest thing in the world should be the hardest to explain. 

We know what great is. We all watch with rapt attention as myriad details propel some towards victory and others to downward spirals of defeat. Who really wins? What really matters? How do we use the libraries of data to move closer to the truth? Does it even matter? What specific items, elements or traits are necessary in the creation of our personal bests? Or could it be simple and banal entertainment from the spectator aspect and enjoyment of experience from the participatory? 

Do we care who wins more than who has the most fun? Is there a way to do both? 

I think there is and I think I have a way to quantify it. 

It even has an acronym. 

ACQ.