NBA Finals 2011: Why Winning Shouldn't Define Greatness
As the dust settles from the debacle that was Game 4 and LeBron’s no-show, it’s time to put our passion in the same perspective where logic and reason lie. The bloggers and columnists had a field day with LeBron James after his horrid performance in a crucial game of the NBA Finals. He checked out, bowed out or forgot to show up—however you want to paint the picture.
The immediate, tried and true response is “He’s good, but he’s no Michael Jordan.” The obvious distinctions could go on for days but this comparison speaks to something bigger than a game and much bigger than an NBA title. It speaks to the legacy of athletes and how they are judged.
Simply put: Our passion for sports clouds our judgment of athletes.
Winning is the only thing, right? We have placed a monumental importance on winning in sports. Yes, I know that winning matters. Why play the game if your intention is to lose? There is no fun or honor in going out as an individual or a team and doing your worst. Our passion for winning is so intense that our fandom gets in the way of our own rational judgment.
As a Chicago Bulls fan, there is a small part of me that believes Derrick Rose should be locked in a closet somewhere still brooding over losing to the Heat. It’s the irrational part of my brain that believes he should make his summer obsession beating the double-teams and destroying the Heat next season. It makes sense right? After all, if Derrick Rose’s only goal in life is to reach the Eastern Conference finals, then he’s not the guy I want on my team after all.
Still, the more rational side of me knows that Derrick Rose has more than likely moved on from his defeat. He, like I, now understand that the Heat were the better team, the Bulls have their problems and hopefully they will be even better next season. Losing was not the end of the world and Derrick Rose should be proud of his accomplishments.
We value winning over anything. It’s why we blasted LeBron for not stepping up. It’s why we’ve crucified Dirk for 2006 and his Finals implosion. It’s why Dan Marino is credited for greatness, but with the qualifier noting that he never won a Super Bowl ring.
Losing, on any level, for almost any reason is nothing to be ashamed of.
Winning matters so much because we say it does. It gives what we are watching meaning. There is no sense in getting emotionally invested in something where the outcome is meaningless. We need victory.
It’s the great equalizer when debating players and the great advantage to rating legacies. It’s not always applicable (remember that Robert Horry has four more rings than Larry Bird), but it’s what we hold on to.
Sports mean more to us than just a way to pass time. They are more than just hobbies. For us, losing hurts. It stings for days and we can’t shake those images of Scott Norwood going wide right, or having Jordan sink that shot on Cleveland. It’s why the Red Sox hate the Yankees. It’s why everyone hated Notre Dame. Winning means everything because we decided it does.
Winning doesn’t have to be paramount for an athlete. It doesn’t have to be the "be all, end all." Judging an athlete by wins and losses is unfair to an athlete unless there is proof positive that they were the reason for either.
Jordan was a killer to the highest degree and his success was paramount to his team's success. On the other end of the pendulum LeBron James was non-existent in Game 4, resulting in a loss for the Heat. Those instances count and qualify us to judge a player. But only those types of instances. Everywhere else winning is overblown and overrated.
Our importance on it may not be a player's importance on it. For players, whether we choose to believe it or not, this is a job for them. They make big money because of their talent, but we need to remember that at the end of the day this is their job. Their need to win may not be as strong as our desire to see them win and that’s our problem. Not theirs.
I’ve had plenty of jobs in my life. Most of them I was good at. Some I was exceptional at. Some companies I worked for were No. 1 in their neighborhood, city or state.
I always enjoyed knowing that we were first, but I also understood that when we fell out of the top ranks all I could do was continue to do my job as best as possible and help my company be as good as it can be. But I never went home and hung my head. I never took it on break with me, and I certainly would have been insulted had someone told me I wasn’t great at my job because we weren’t No. 1.
I realize that we will never escape the importance we put on winning, but I understand, to the same degree, we must also look at the effort and the quality of play. When a team is standing tall as a champion we tend to lump everyone in as having been good and having done their part. When a team fails, like either the Miami Heat or Dallas Mavericks will, we tend to lump them together as having not done well or played their part. Neither is fair or accurate, but it’s what we do.
There is more to sports and greatness than just wins and losses. It’s time we got back to judging effort rather than end results.









