Superheroes, Athletes, and what it all means.

              I guess I should start out explaining why I’m writing about “fun” stuff. Honestly, I don’t want to write about religion, politics, or anything else that everyone disagrees about. I’m a devout Christian, but that shouldn’t change how you live your life. I’m more conservative, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other ideas out there. Arguing about that stuff, after a certain point, is an exercise in futility. You’re not going to convince me to change, and I’m not going to convince you you’re wrong. I’m much more interested in the more subjective fields, finding out what makes people tick, and figuring out why things work, why they don’t, and opening up the discussion. There’s way too much baggage with that other stuff. I’m going to (hopefully) talk about anything and everything that I find interesting, amusing, or entertaining. So, let’s get right down to it.

ESPN the magazine did an NBA preview earlier this year with Marvel, associating teams and players with specific superheroes. This makes perfect sense to me. There is a special artistry in sports that, at times, is difficult to explain. As a fan of comic book superheroes, there is an allure to watching normal human beings perform extraordinary feats. In many ways, I am a Philistine when it comes to certain aspects of sports, but the explosiveness, the physical ability to perform is something I can, at the very least, appreciate. Other sites, such as Free Darko express themselves in a much better way than I can about these topics (this comparison of John Wall's speed and agility to the power and strength of Blake Griffin is enlightening ) I, for some odd reason, view these athletes in the context of a comic book. Both worlds, for all intents and purposes are separate from the world we live in, but they entertain us and draw us in for a, albeit brief, period and show us what’s possible.

Some athletes, such as Deron Williams of the Utah Jazz make it easy. His court vision and agility is akin to the blind vigilante Daredevil, who, while blind, possesses a Radar Sense and Martial Arts skills that are a deadly combination. Daredevil sees openings that others don’t, and exploits them, pushing opponents to the edge. Williams, at his best, is maddening on the court because of his speed, strength, and passing ability. If a teammate is open, Williams will get him the ball.

In football, no one is faster than Chris Johnson. His speed is not only incredible, it is effective. If a defender hesitates for a moment, he’s gone. This speed is really his only weapon, but because Johnson is smart, and thinks quicker than anyone else, he becomes almost unstoppable. With his lightning speed, quickstep, and dodging ability, Johnson is the football version of the Flash. Defenders know he’s going to run. They know they have to stop him. But that, in the end, is easier said than done.

These comparisons are how my brain works. I can’t help but look at Peyton Manning and see Batman: he’s never out of the game, no matter what happens, he prepares for every contingency, and more often than not he’s going to win.  Barry Sanders demonstrates this discussion perfectly: quick, unstoppable, and other worldly, he’s probably the closest thing to Superman we’ll ever see, on the field at least. I recognize these similarities, whether they’re really there or not, and overanalyze what I see. For me, I suppose, it comes down to seeing these people as the epitome of human potential. They are, in one way or another, the best we can be. The athleticism, the instincts, the analytical ability, and the drive show what are true potential is. I know, I know. Idolizing these people is foolhardy, at the end of the day they’re just people. But I’m not saying that they’re great role models: I’m saying they demonstrate what people can do at the peak of their abilities, and learn from them when they fall short. Every game is its own drama play, complete with plotlines and consequences. For a brief moment, the world drifts away, and all that’s left are two men running towards one another. It is an encapsulation of the human condition: we always falter and fall, but sometimes, if we have enough ability, if we work hard enough, or maybe if God is just smiling on us one day, something miraculous can occur. And, really, when it comes down to it, it’s that very same struggle the Greeks obsessed over and stories go over every day: finding the ultimate potential of the human spirit to overcome insurmountable obstacles. Success, though, isn’t the point. Yeah, it feels good to win. Yeah, it sucks to lose. But there’s a special kind of magic when, to borrow from Rasheed Wallace, both teams play hard. There’s nothing else like it.