Sports Ethics: Who is a Competitor?

We were driving home from grade school one day having a discussion about the meaning of life (both kids will tell you of the madness of having two professors for parents). My daughter piped up, "well life is a journey to discover." My son hurrumped as only a ten year old can and proclaimed, "life is a game you play to win." I know, my wife and I were not planning on raising stereotypes, but there you have it.

Life is a game you play to win?

Simple enough:  A life philosophy? A way of being in the world? A way to relate to problems?

In the world of sport and of athletic competition, the highest compliment that can be paid to a person is "he or she is a competitor." I guess that the competition in athletic competition gives it away.

Being a competitor pervades the language that describes, evaluates, demeans and praises athletics. Yet it is important to remember that being a competitor does not mean a person always wins. An athletic winner can compliment the opposing person or team who lost by saying, "they were great competitors." Being a competitor may be vital to succeeding and winning, but it exists as a separate ethical status in sports. 

The reality of being a competitor lies at the moral heart of athletics and any defense of the moral worth of sports. But what does it mean? to be a competitor? Why is it morally worthy and respected even by the individuals who may win over a person. Is it a good way to live and approach life?

To compete requires a context and someone to compete against. One competes for a purpose. Without a goal to gain and someone who also seeks it, there is no competition.

In theories of evolution creatures compete to survive. They compete against other creatures seeking to survive. Sometimes the competition can be brutal and head to head since creatures seek to control the same resources of an area or herd. sometime competition can be brutal individuals compete as prey and predator or males compete for access to female  Such competition can end in a zero sum game--one dead, one alive. One propagating, one slinking away.

Sometimes, however, individuals compete to find a right and secure niche, and successful competition can mean finding co-surviving niches or cooperative strategies to survive. To succeed in this environment the creature must develop their traits and skill and intelligence to thrive in their ecosystem, not necessarily dominate another creature.

The essence of the biological competitor lies in the incessant challenge posed to survive against the environmental challenges and the other competitors who seek similar goals. The moral worth of a successful competitor is clear; the individual survives. Interestingly in this world, competitors do not want to compete against the best unless they have to. Their risk assessment preference prefers the weaker and less likely to succeed--the unique human and athletic desire to push oneself and gain glory by competing against the best grows from human's capacity for self reflection and self comparison. 

The moral worth of competition can emerge from its relationship to refine and develop the quality of a being. Being a competitor demonstrates its worth in how it contributes to the being's ability to survive and thrive.Competition hones a creature's skills and ability to thrive. It can drive a creature to develop its capabilities to their maximum extent and to find the right niche where these capabilities bring reward.

Being a competitor involves two possible obvious outcomes: to lose or win against the environment or fellow competitors. In the biological frame, to lose means to die, to win, means a creature lives another day, that is the reward, not dying, living another day for another set of possibilities.

Actually a third outcome exists. If a creature or species loses in the competition for resources, they do not necessarily die. They can move to another ecosystem. They can find different resources that permit them to survive by filling unoccupied niches or exploiting underutilized resources. They can accept a different and lower place in the herd. A real competitor can also be smart and use the "loss" to find another way to survive and thrive. They can also use the loss to get smarter, skilled or stronger.

Competing helps creatures and people grow. It can help them develop and get better or find the right niche for them by trying one area and moving to another.  But what does being a competitor mean for a human being and an athlete.

Athletic Competitors

At its center being a competitor involves an internal dialogue where the person sets goals and measures him or herself against their ability to achieve those goals. One can compete against oneself to expand skills, develop knowledge, refine technique and practice, reflect and learn. Being a competitor begins with the internal stance of competing against oneself and pushing and testing and developing one's skills.

This self dialogue introduces an often lost aspect of being a high performing competitor. Good competitors learn and adapt when they lose or face strong competition. But strong competitors  also innovate. In professional and athletic competition, people use their mind to reframe issues. They discover new ideas and approaches and tactics. They invent new ways to deploy resources and even one's body or team strategy. So being a competitor involves not just endless refining one's skill and strength and bodily integration, but thinking and applying imagination and mind to the game and challenges before the person. This can range from innovation in training, mental preparation, nutrition as well as tactics and skill refinement. A good competitor pushes him or herself to get better both for the sake of their own excellence and of winning against competitors. 

A competitor lies in an uneasy relationship to him or herself and to life. The relationship to self remains restless since personal identity can anchor in success as an athlete.  Any strong competitor can link their sense of self worth to the extrinsic goal of winning, not just the intrinsic goals of meeting their own aspirations.

This relation to self involves a constant assessment of how good one's skills and intelligence. A competitor cannot ever be satisfied with him or herself. The challenges of the game or sport change. Younger, more talented and sometimes more innovative athletes enter the arena of competition. No safe harbors exist. To succeed and stay competitive in this arena requires immense personal focus and discipline and adaptability. It means every day tests whether one has the self-discipline and desire to perfect one's skills and push oneself to the limits to stay in the game.  

This self awareness and discipline is why "she's a competitor" remains one of the highest compliments athletes can pay to fellow athletes or coaches can pay to their own or opposing athletes. It articulates the deepest level of respect that exists independent  of whether the athlete wins or loses, it means they compete.

The competitor works to perfect and overcome deficiencies that are revealed in competition. Most athletes not only love to win, but they HATE to lose. In fact one of the saddest aspects of many competitors lies in the reality that he or she does not nearly enjoy the delight of winning and the sheer rush of being at your best; but rather feels only relief that they did not lose.  The fear of losing and the  pain of loss drives can reduce a competitor to a dreary driven and haunted life.

More than a few athletes can be described as "one of the most competitive people I know." What the person reveals is not just the drive to excel and win in athletics, but this carries over into every area of their life. I can be tiddly winks or RISK or making money or just goofing around over a video game. It does not matter, this type of competitor can be fun to have around, but to be honest can get pretty tiresome if they have to win or more to the point, just act out when they  lose. Learning to be an accomplished competitor is only part of learning to be an accomplished human and friend.

Each loss can eat away at their self worth, but real competitors use it as a spur to get better. This quest to get better defines another moral aspect of a competitor and athlete's code--a competitor does not quit. What does that mean? To most athletes quitting  takes on a moral overtone, to give up, to refuse to try any more. A quitter is the antithesis of a competitor.

This is not the same as a conscious decision that one cannot attain the level of excellence or cannot compete at the same level. This acknowledges  truthful self assessment. It means individuals may leave the field and retire or they may go to another level of competition such as age related such as  masters tournaments and levels where people can compete and excel and not give up but move beyond the need to win.

Competition possesses a darker side. First, it possesses its own demonic dynamic where competitors demonize the other competitors. Teams or individuals will compete not just to push themselves, not just to be the best and win but they supplement this motivation by projecting anger or hatred on the opponents. This anger and hatred motivate. 

The demonization undermines the sportsmanship by pushing individuals to test the rules in ways designed to hurt or punish the other side, not just win within the rules. Too many coaches preach to their teams that members need to  dislike or hate their opponents. This dehumanizing lessens the nobility and strength of the competitor as a model of emulation. It distorts the satisfaction of winning into a sharp lust for dominating rather than sheer appreciation of winning and being the best that a person or team can be at that moment.

Second, darkness can shape how competition pushes individuals to get better. A competitor learns from mistakes. When they lose or get bested, they think about why they lost, work on the weaknesses or perfect their strengths, and they work to get better. But two dangers sneak in here. In the first the competitor sacrifices their self worth and identity to the external trophy of winning, to their need to beat the other. Their worth and success is in some ways diminished because they triumph not in their excellence but in their dominance that depends upon the endless king of the mountain game. When they do lose, they lose not just the game, but they feel less as a person. Or as my ten year old volleyball players used to do, they blame it on the other team, the coach, anyone but themselves because it hurts too much.

Of course my young male volleyball players missed another vital point. Evolutionary biology demonstrates that the best cooperators become the best competitors. Humans succeed as a species not because of their immense strength, talent or even intelligence. They succeed because of their capacity to develop complex successful teams that succeed. The same is true of sports. Talent and skill will often fall before talent and skill melded into a coherent team philosophy and commitment. True competitors understand that successful competition requires a team culture.

Another facet needs to be remembered. A competitor competes to the end of the trial. This is why winners will compliment the vanquished. The competitor gives it all their effort and skill even when he or she is losing. Even when he or she or the team falls so far behind, no chance exists to overcome the deficit. The athlete keeps fighting and competing. This drive and way of being honors the game they play, honors their opponents but above all honors their own integrity. The person wins that internal dialogue that even when the extrinsic goal eludes them, the intrinsic goals exist and the person remains true to their self, their goals and their teammates. 

The great competitors revel in their wins, but they revel as much in their excellence, in the sheer joy and fun and success where they and their teammates exhibit utter mastery that plays out as success and victory. They don't need domination but they celebrate mastery.

Sports Ethics: "Let's Do This"

I was at a Husky women's basketball game last week near the bench. Fans are screaming and the score is tight. Pressure rises.   The team huddles, listens to the coach and right before breaking, the team leaders yells, “let’s do this!”

It’s a strong appeal that we hear in all aspects of life, and I believe it carries real ethical and psychological power. Let’s parse out the meaning and power of this classic sports exhortation.

“Let’s Do This!” demands action. Leaders exhort their group to unite and take action in sport and life. The phrase commands a moral and psychological demand that focuses the quest for excellence and victory in sports and life. The words parse out in a very critical way that makes real sense in sport but in life.

THIS—An indefinite pronoun situates athletes and people in an immediate context. No one needs to spell it out. The word informs everyone that the task exists immediately before the group. High performing individuals and athletes live in the exact moment being fully aware of the situational complexity of what they face and whom their opponents are and what obstacles confront them. THIS needs no explication. It assumes that the individual team members all make themselves fully present. They know the goal and know the tasks. The word assumes and demands situational awareness.

LET’S—(Let Us) A compound verb/object accomplishes two vital goals. The US pinpoints every person as members of a team with a common goal. The phrase unites the team and creates a shared sense of responsibility. Using these words puts everyone on notice that no one person can do this. Everyone must contribute and must fully engage right now at this point in time with this task confronting them.

Underlying the assertion of a team identity and responsibility lies the belief that everyone bonded by the call possesses the knowledge and the skill to accomplish a task. Individuals make this claim when they can presume an history—that the individuals in the huddle have practiced and mastered skill and coordinated activity. The claim welds together a group identity and responsibility with a shared expertise and focus.

But the US only covers the contraction aspect. “LET” unleashes another active imperative. This phrase is not a question and it is not a request. The word let has a sort of subjunctive mode to it, a should, an imperative dimension. But rather than just a direct order—“do this now,” “I command  you” or “I order you.” The verb infers an authoritative or commanding invitation as in let’s go to the beach or let’s go inside. Let’s is ambiguous enough to hint that the person uttering it does not possess full authority to order or chooses not to. Rather “let us” or let’s invites people to commit. The authority hides behind and reinforces the team identity.

Let’s addresses each member of the team as an imperative to pull together, to act together and stake their identities together in THIS task before them. The locution flattens the hierarchy of authority and elicits dedication rather than subordination. It brings commitment not just compliances.

That is why the locution is so interesting and important in sports and life. The moral import of the phrase involves a coming together for a shared purpose as a team to achieve the task in front of the group.

DO—Simple, clean and to the point. The verb do grows from deep linguistic roots endures as one of the oldest and most direct action words in English. The verb promises to act, to put in place  andto make happen. A promise and direction cannot be more simple and more direct.

Just like the “this,” the verb do does not specify the exact action, rather it means that the group will perform what is necessary to achieve the goal. By its very imperative elusiveness, the verb matches the pronoun “this.” Do promises the individuals will act in a necessary way linked to the goal—it links action and goal to the shared responsibility of the team.

Sometimes the words sound so simple, yet they evoke so much and depend upon a deep moral and psychological connection.

Let’s do this epitomizes the stance of a team that commits to be present to a situation and perform the tasks necessary to achieve it. But underneath, it evokes the dedication and mutual regard and coordination any group of “us” needs.

Can a Team Pitch a No Hitter?

This week the Seattle Mariners pitched a no hitter against the Los Angeles Dodgers.

What does that mean?

c

You can compare it with Matt Cain's fourteen strike out perfect game in the same week. Like many perfect games, Cain just dominated as a pitcher, and although perfect games occur much more often now than in the days when they would be spaced 20 years apart, they distill the essence of how baseball assigns ultimate responsibility to the pitcher. No one says the Giants pitched a perfect game; all the praise goes to Cain. Although no hitters are not nearly as impressive we usually say the same thing like Roy Halladay pitched the no hitter.

Our language assigns responsibility in no hitters and perfect games—the language resolutely pinpoints the pitcher as responsible for the game. Yet the reality is much more complex, and the Mariner’s no hitter reveals this complexity.

The Mariners fashioned a no hitter using six pitchers. As of Sunday they were still trying to whom to award the game ball? Only once in the history of baseball have six pitchers carved out a no hitter, Houston in 2003. It had never happened in the American League.

Only ten times in baseball history—345,000 games and counting—has this happened. Yet part of me feels cheated. How can a committee of pitchers pitch a no hitter? Where is the responsibility and clarity for the win and the no hitter?

There are two points here. First, a no hitter is important and very rare, but not a perfect game. In a no hitter, no one gets a hit. People walk and people commit errors. In the Mariner’s most imperfect no hitter, they issued three walks and Charlie Furbush committed a throwing error that let a man reach second base. In a no hitter more balls have been in play and more people have been on base. The probabilities of people scoring rises incredibly when folks get on base, so the role of team defense rises proportionately Hypothetically a team could lose a no hitter by walking in a man after loading the bases with walks. And being baseball it has happened. Twice teams have lost no hitters!

So Kevin Millwood left the game after six wonderful strong innings with a pulled groin. Millwood provided an example of when to leave a game when he called the coach out "I couldn't push off," he said. "It would have been stupid to stay out there." As I have talked about before, this  is a strong ethical reason to leave a game, not to protect oneself, but to help the team from one’s limitations.

The second point of the game is that the six headed hydra illustrates the incredible team nature of any no hitter. Pitch calling by the catcher; fielder placement by the coaches; execution under pressure—Brendan Ryan threw out a batter by a micro-step in the ninth inning; pitchers resilience and cool focus as the zeroes add up on the scoreboard, thee all contribute to the success. It helps to have individual initiative such as Ichiro’s steal to put himself in position to score along with late inning defensive substitutions.

No other team sport assigns responsibility for wins and losses to just one person. Football does not assign wins and losses to quarterbacks nor does volleyball to setters or basketball to point guards. The language of responsibility in baseball has its own history and reasons, but that is another story, but the staunch insistence upon how to talk about pitcher's accountability hides the real truth of the game.

A wag suggested that the Mariners issue a six headed bobble-head. It might be fun, but to get to the real truth this historical game revealed, it should be a a true hydra with new heads spouting for each one cut off, in this case 17 players.

The loquacious Brendan Ryan was spot on, “It was kind of fun to get so many people involved…It just felt like a really collective team effort.”

Ryan’s comment really covers any no hitter or any game; only our language of assigning wins and losses to pitchers hides that.

Mariner relief pitcher Charlie Furbush got to the essence of the issue “We got to all celebrate together because everyone got to do their job and be part of it.”   He just described every no hitter in history, whether pitched by one or six.

A team pitches every no hitter.