A Distillation of Victory

As a sports fan lucky enough to be from Boston, in these modern days, I am acquainted with the luxury and spoils brought by victory. And winning is baller.



A championship, even merely spectated, creates a shared experience that serve as validation of the investments of time and mental energy put forth by the rigors of fandom.

It is also a celebration of unity and community. In land where we spend more time griping about our differences than similarities, there are few opportunities to truly share.

And so when the clock struck 11:00 P.M. last Tuesday, and every major network announced that Barack Obama had been called to serve as the 44th president of these United States, the jubilation that erupted in the streets and on the broadcasts across the country was not personally unprecedented. It reminded me, hey, this is simply what it feels like to win.



Maybe it illicits hugs from total strangers. It may boil down to simple eye contact made with another, silently sharing the moment. Maybe you get lucky. Weeping, cheering, dancing, and drinking are all pretty acceptable options. I personally took a hint from Celtics' patriarch Red Aurbach, and coolly, arrogantly lit a cigar.

But the important thing is the embrace of the moment; the assuring knowledge that this is pretty much as good as it gets. The world is so big, and its issues so unwieldy, it is easy to forget the sensation of the good guys victorious.

It took actually happening for everyone to fully realize how much we needed this. The subtexts of this election were extrapolated upon at length, but more importantly than any particular racial hurdle, the country needed to have something “trancendent” to rally around. We needed to feel good again.






Too often, we only really share the negative. We go through economic crises together. We grow weary of our international responsibilities together. We mourn the tragic loss of brothers and sisters together.

Which is funny, because shared suffering makes up the main thrust of sports' fandom.

For years, Red Sox fans understood their lot in life. Ours was a predetermined destiny. We were the “Wait until next year,” team. This was an identity that reinforced itself more and more every year. Every loss, and every failure only dug us deeper into a state of perpetual disappointment and inferiority.

Then they overcame it. The burden was relieved, and a new era began. A new brand, a new identity, and a new perspective was granted. We made it. And due to the many years of suffering, we knew we'd earned it.




And that was what happened. It wasn't that Barack was the Black president. He was the Right president. This was not an apology by the American people to any specific community, or an exercise in affirmative action, or an optimistic roll of the dice. This was an informed opinion. This election does not change American history, but it does change the course of it. Change came to America. While the President-elect has a steep challenge ahead of him, he is only asked what we ask every Head of State; be our best. Represent our ideals, respect our wishes, make our difficult decisions and we will stand behind you.

We vote to select our leadership, but after that we are pretty much spectators. It doesn't mean what happens doesn't effect us, but we have mostly surrendered our power and are in it for the ride. Over the course of a term, or a season, there are peaks and valleys. There are big losses, and minor victories. But what we need to remember is that we are all on the same team. We all want the same things. We want to end up at the same place.



The winner's circle.

There are very few moments that truly transcend the individual experience for the societal one. What's more, when they do happen, they are too often marred by tragedy. But sometimes, if you're patient, if you're lucky, and if you back the right horse, there is a reward at the finish line. Winning feels good. And it's addictive.

Now that we've all voted, we've surrendered any sort of control. Among us, there will inherently be those who will criticize every move- Monday Morning Quaterbacks, or armchair managers ready and eager to discuss shortcomings at length. There will be others who instead defend and rationalize. We will clash and argue about it because we care about the outcome, because it is our only power.

But as we learned last Tuesday, we can celebrate together. Let's hold on to that.

See you at the Inauguration. I'll be the one with the cigar.