This week (in Alex Finlay’s “The Night Shift”) I read the following: “Sports. Ella never understood the fascination. A professor explained that it’s the human need to belong to something. A tribe. Ella’s never felt that need.” I’ve of course heard this before; it is a common platitude. But I disagree; or I at least partially disagree. The part about the fascination driven by a need to belong I believe is only part of it; a larger part for some, a lesser part for others. Identity is important, but as important (perhaps more important) is the human need for possibility; for hope. Competition within a framework of rules creates a winner and a loser, but the loser today is not absolutely destined to be the loser tomorrow. Though (as discussed here) the odds may be in favor of privilege, in sports there will always be possibility. And we need that.

To further this argument, competition is a reflection of the dichotomous nature of Humanity. I have said before that each one of us is “nuanced or laden with Goodness or Malevolence, Compassion or Cruelty, Empathy or Indifference, a desire for Justice or a self-serving greed.” In sports we can see these characteristics (both good and bad) in both the good guys (our team) and the bad guys, thus when the good guys win we are to a degree vindicated by association; victory becomes hope, a possibility, a promise of salvation. Ultimately, beyond fulfilling one's need to belong, sports fulfills our need to believe and flirts with our desire to transcend.

In this sense, victory is not about who has the most points, or money, or power, or shoes, or degrees, or titles, or answers, or votes. To transcend is to reach or move beyond one's mere mortality and its trappings. And from there it seems the most assured way for me to transcend my mortality is for me to work for future generations. Yes, the euphoric high that comes with an important victory (lived vicariously or otherwise) certainly feels like I have moved beyond mere self-actualization, but reality, in one form or another and usually in short order, reminds me that (I believe) true transcendence requires a lifetime of consistent effort toward balancing my personal dichotomy and (as much as is possible) sharing the experience. I could (should) do a better job. The alternative is to live vicariously and/or associatively through those who have more points, more shoes, more answers.

I have been accused of being somewhat obscure or esoteric in my writing. Yes, I am saying above that quiescent hope as found in doctrine, dogma, divisiveness, certainty (as found in politics, organized religion, sports, bureaucracy), will not lead to transcendence; and if one finds some slight semblance of self-actualization in any example of quiescent hope, it is personal, selfish and short-term (i.e. one lifetime). And yes, I did say above we need hope and possibility and can be inspired by sports, but it should serve as exactly that: inspiration; a jumping off point leading to active transcendence (i.e. working for future generations).

Einstein made many, many mistakes. Babe Ruth struck out 1,330 times. Transcendence is not a bolt of lightning. In his book “There Are Places in the World Where Rules are Less Important then Kindness” by Carlo Rovelli, he says,

“The Einstein who makes more errors than anyone else is precisely the same Einstein who succeeds in understanding more about nature than anyone else, and these are complementary and necessary aspects of the same profound intelligence: the audacity of thought, the courage to take risks, the lack of faith in received ideas—including, crucially, one’s own.” (Rovelli, pg. 80-81).

Again, Transcendence cannot happen vicariously, instantaneously, or quiescently. Again, Transcendence requires an active, effortful immersion into a lifetime of consistent effort toward balancing one’s personal dichotomy and (as much as is possible) sharing the experience.

“Being right is not the important thing—trying to understand is.” (Rovelli, pg. 81).