Today is not a thing to be defeated

At Defector, David Roth makes a really interesting observation about the tragedy of retired athletes like Jordan, Woods, and others who struggle to find an appropriate receptacle for all the effort that was formerly poured into becoming and remaining (or at least striving to be) the greatest-of-all-time.

What pathos there is to find here lies in the fact that while the men in these stories do things traditionally associated with masculine leisure—upscale gun shit, committed campaigns of adultery that play out as a series of escalating heat checks, gambling, sports-adjacent drinking in all-male groups, the catechistic going-over of old slights and beefs, compulsive golfing—they are categorically incapable of doing it in a leisurely way.

Roth goes on to make some broader points about society at large and about Tom Brady’s interesting retirement lifestyle choices, but what I found most interesting was how effectively he highlights a sort of incompetence in these paragons of competence. What made them so great also makes, it seems, for a rather depressing denouement.

These men don’t have to work, but they forgot how to do anything else, and long ago lost any other way to treat every day but as another thing to be defeated.

I’m sure that none of these examples would trade their greatness for an easier transition into retirement and more aptitude for the life of leisure, but I’m also sure that, at this point, they are beyond recognizing that as a choice that could have been made. Once the wiring is in place that says “this is a thing to be defeated” about basically anything at which one can improve over time, it’s almost impossible to remove the switch that completes the circuit. As a competitive person and former athlete—even at the extremely low comparative heights at which I competed—I recognize this misinterpretation of leisure as conquest.

My own transition from competitive athlete who spent every waking (and, honestly, sleeping) hour thinking of and taking steps to improve at a very specific thing to a human who exists in the world and and does many things, mostly not including that one thing at any meaningful scale also required some self destruction. Even now, after that self destruction and decades after this competitive switch was made vestigial, I feel its current in the strangest of places. A comparative literature class, an ax throwing event with coworkers, a particularly challenging level in Super Mario Bros. Wonder, all present opportunities to turn leisure into the work of winning. I imagine that the scale of this particular sort of sickness correlates to the scale of former success.

Now, as a parent, I want to be mindful of these things and these choices and building the kinds of connections that create these conditions. Yes, it is fun to win. The pursuit of excellence in any field is a worthy goal. But it is also necessary to be able to have fun in a way that is separate from competition. To enjoy the act itself rather than the validation inherent in winning.

I hope to be able to help my kids find that balance.