Dues At A Discount Are Worth Less

Loath though I am to shill for a multibillion-dollar maker of overpriced athletic shoes, I must say this: You really ought to see the new Nike commercial.

It stars Michael Jordan, nine-time All-Star, four-time MVP, two-time Olympic gold medalist, once-in-a-century icon. Jordan - the man who shackled gravity and courted flight, who made the impossible seem routine and the merely difficult look easy - is seen here arriving at the game, heading to the locker room. His stride is easy, his smile secretive and knowing as he moves down the gauntlet of fans and well-wishers. He walks like a winner.

Yet, in the voice-over he says: “I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost more than 300 games. Twenty-six times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot - and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”

Consider that for a moment. Failure is why he succeeds. Failure is the price of excellence.

Used to be we all knew that. But nowadays it sounds revolutionary.

That’s because nowadays, we want it all right now. Nowadays, some of us think children too fragile to sustain the trauma of failure. Nowadays, every mediocre singer is a superstar, every so-so athlete an all-time great. Nowadays, greatness is a cut rate commodity.

You want to know how far greatness has fallen? A young man told me the other day that Tupac Shakur was another Martin Luther King Jr. or Malcolm X. I asked him to tell me how, exactly, Shakur changed the whole world. He, of course, could not.

Not that it matters. Nowadays, perception is stronger than truth. That used to drive me crazy when I was a music writer. I found myself constantly amazed by the number of singers who weren’t and performers who could not, the number of people who, having taken shortcuts to success and back doors to fame, were unready and unsteady when they got there.

But it’s not just the entertainment arena that suffers counterfeit greatness. We seem to hear ever more these days about middle managers who arrive at the corner office ignorant and unprepared. About grade inflation, where mediocre academic performances are rewarded with superior marks. About high school and college graduates who go into the world unprepared to hold down a job.

In so many fields of endeavor, it seems, it has become possible for people to reach the goal without doing the work. We forget that there is a reason to go through ordeal, some value to be found in adversity.

One becomes tougher from those things, learns that failure is not fatal, nor defeat eternal. One gains depth. One becomes ready.

Perhaps one even becomes truly great.

The problem with greatness, though, is that in a society obsessed with perception, it looks too easy. Seen from the outside by those who don’t know any better, greatness looks almost like magic. Looks like something anyone could do if he just understood the trick, had the ability, or intercepted the bolt of lightning from God.

How does Angelou write like that, we wonder. How does Hawking conceive such thoughts? How does De Niro act with such conviction and soul?

And how does Jordan fly?

We talk about talent, we nod to luck, but so often, we ignore the most important things. The hard work and many failures. The arriving early and staying late. The rejection of complacency, the refusal of contentment, the unceasing push to be just a little better than the day before.

The results of which were on display in a Jordan highlight clip I downloaded the other day. He fakes left, goes right, elevates to the hoop, finds a man in his path, spins in midair, throws the ball backward over his head and scores.

It leaves the announcers breathless, the crowd roaring. And you wonder again … how?

The answer is simple. That moment, seen by millions, was built on a thousand others only Jordan himself will ever know.

You have to pay some dues before you get to walk as winners do.

xxxx