It’s an event.
There’s a before and after.
And you’re only a god or a goat if you win.
But if you don’t - well, you’re a mortal, like the rest of us.
And that’s a good thing, in its own way.
Because let’s say you win.
Then you’re still a mortal, too.
Even if you (and we) forget for a minute.
You might still wear your god shirt around.
You might go full makeup post crazy Injury.
Even though you’ve crashed out.
In public.
And the shirt and the make-up suddenly feel off.
That’s the risk of humility behind every great success.
Or, every shot at success - but, oh man. The risk of humility.
It’s the variance idea. Again.
Variance means the outcome can go in either direction.
Magnitude too.
It’s savage.
And it takes savage to know savage.
It’s like go big or go home.
But it’s not just go home, it’s worse. When you’re this visible, the cameras are following you home, too. It’s brutal.
It’s go big or go hide. I don’t know how they do it. I don’t know how they’ll do it.
But my attention is captured. I want to know what they’ll do next. That’s why I’m writing the feeling down here.
If you’re watching the Olympics you are probably feeling it too.
Quad God Ilia Malinin choked and didn’t make podium after being widely expected to win.
He hadn’t lost for over two years leading up to this, not to mention he was the two-time defending world champion - hence the god-level confidence. Oof.
Lindsey Vonn, despite a crazy injury (ruptured ACL <2 weeks prior), defied the odds only to have her arm catch a gate on a tight line, sending her down, hard, and ending her Olympic hopes with a helicopter ride to the hospital.
She’s the goat for getting 3 medals across 4 games, including the first American downhill gold.
Gods and goats, made mortal.
Vonn (likely) won’t compete again at this level. But Ilia probably will.
Ilia’s got some Vonn in him, I think.
It’s a good thing. He’ll need it.
He’s learned something from this failure. The variance, as teacher. He’s not making this mistake again.
And even though Vonn won’t be back at this level, she’s got no regrets about the go she gave it.
Her hospital bed riff is still in my ears.
And similar to ski racing, we take risks in life. We dream. We love. We jump. And sometimes we fall. Sometimes our hearts are broken. Sometimes we don’t achieve the dreams we know we could have. But that is also the beauty of life; we can try.
Which brings me back to this idea:
It’s only an event.
There’s always a before and after.
He’s been a god, she’s been a goat - and whatever you’re doing with your life this is a reminder to drink up their stories and remember - outside of special moments, we’re all just everyday people.
I love the Olympics so much.
These games will end too.
They’ll blow out the torch and life will move on.
My wife and I will go back to watching some new series in the evenings instead of catching up on all the highlights.
In short order we’ll have a World Cup, then summer Olympics, and the winter games will be back around before we know it.
That’s part of life. That’s show business.
Enjoy the cycle. Enjoy the journey. Even when it doesn’t work out like you want it to.
Sports are truly the least important most important thing.
Sports remind us - every moment is an event, with a before and after, and we’re all mortals.
