Muhammad Ali's winning strategy was brilliant. The idea to let another man punch himself out is a decent one, but Ali made it even better by pretending to be tired and beaten as well. I would think that this helped to bring George Foreman out of his inner boxing game even more. Foreman sees that Ali is tired, thinks he has control of the match, and then lets down his guard. And it was too late to try to bring it back up when he was mauled by Ali in what seemed like a matter of seconds.
Once again, it was a brilliant strategy. It reminds me of a broader application of the famous 'hesitation' move that is so often used in sports like basketball, football, and soccer, for its ability to help an attacker (usually) run passed a defender. The attacker gives a slight decrease in speed. He straightens up a little. His face becomes less tense. He looks somewhere other than his intended path, perhaps to give the impression that he wishes to not be involved in the play anymore, that he just wants to pass the ball off and rest. The defender relaxes along with the attacker, and may lose focus. But the attacker does not lose focus. As soon as he sees his feint reflecting in the poise of his defender, then he knocks him out. Figuratively speaking. What a brilliant strategy.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Unwavering Loyalty: The Sporting Fans' Ideal
"I still support the Cowboys despite their performance in the last six years."
"The Cardinals are your favorite team!?! Go die."
"You don't like Liverpool, you've never even been to a match."
"Well, I'm going to be honest and admit that I tend to follow whatever team is most likely to win."
The loyalty of fans to individual teams is an enormous part of sport, especially amongst the fans themselves. They brave decade-long droughts of poor performance, confident that their team's day will come again. They argue, riot, and even kill as they band together in large armies to harass an equally riled mass of fans on the other side of the pitch. A loyal fan is weary of accidentally embracing a false supporter, an impostor. After all, those who come quickly will leave in the same manner.
I propose the following evolution-based explanation for the intensity of the emotions that come with sport:
In today's world, it is difficult to make alliances that feel as though they are more than just agreements to spend and enjoy some time together on a regular basis. There is little need for making pacts with others to prevent your own death. We no longer have neighboring communities that lurk in the shadows, waiting to take our compound by nightfall, from whom we find protection only in our own numbers. There is no longer a need for strong bonds between hunters, the willingness to "work for each other" in order to survive on a day-to-day basis. When there were such needs, those who made they strongest alliances were usually the safest and best feed, hence the very strong desires that exist in modern humans, the descendants of those who survived to reproduce and nurture their offspring. So today, we look for other places to make these alliances. We look anywhere and everywhere, desperate to find a group. This desire is ingrained in us. The loyal fan is respected and trusted to support his favorite team. The supporters of other teams are hated, harassed, and avoided. Fans with seemingly weak or questionable ties to a team are watched carefully and not trusted fully. At the same time, fans may attempt to jump ship as their team sinks in defeat in hopes of making friends with another group of people in support of a better-faring team.
It's simple. It's evolution. It's all very exciting.
"The Cardinals are your favorite team!?! Go die."
"You don't like Liverpool, you've never even been to a match."
"Well, I'm going to be honest and admit that I tend to follow whatever team is most likely to win."
The loyalty of fans to individual teams is an enormous part of sport, especially amongst the fans themselves. They brave decade-long droughts of poor performance, confident that their team's day will come again. They argue, riot, and even kill as they band together in large armies to harass an equally riled mass of fans on the other side of the pitch. A loyal fan is weary of accidentally embracing a false supporter, an impostor. After all, those who come quickly will leave in the same manner.
I propose the following evolution-based explanation for the intensity of the emotions that come with sport:
In today's world, it is difficult to make alliances that feel as though they are more than just agreements to spend and enjoy some time together on a regular basis. There is little need for making pacts with others to prevent your own death. We no longer have neighboring communities that lurk in the shadows, waiting to take our compound by nightfall, from whom we find protection only in our own numbers. There is no longer a need for strong bonds between hunters, the willingness to "work for each other" in order to survive on a day-to-day basis. When there were such needs, those who made they strongest alliances were usually the safest and best feed, hence the very strong desires that exist in modern humans, the descendants of those who survived to reproduce and nurture their offspring. So today, we look for other places to make these alliances. We look anywhere and everywhere, desperate to find a group. This desire is ingrained in us. The loyal fan is respected and trusted to support his favorite team. The supporters of other teams are hated, harassed, and avoided. Fans with seemingly weak or questionable ties to a team are watched carefully and not trusted fully. At the same time, fans may attempt to jump ship as their team sinks in defeat in hopes of making friends with another group of people in support of a better-faring team.
It's simple. It's evolution. It's all very exciting.
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