“Then he reaches into his shepherd’s bag for a stone, and at that point, no one watching from the ridges on either side of the valley would have considered David’s victory improbable. David was a slinger, and slingers beat infantry, hands down.”
– Malcolm Gladwell in “David and Goliath; Underdogs, Misfits and The Art of Battling Giants”
Once we decide we are beaten, we are.
And once we decide we won’t be beaten, we most likely will not.
Underdogs, it seems, aren’t always the underdogs. It’s just that we see them that way.
The 1969 New York Mets were seen as the bumbling, horribly unsuccessful franchise they’d been since their founding in 1962. But they had two future Hall-of-Fame pitchers, guys named Tom Seaver (my baseball “idol”) and maybe-the-best-ever, Nolan Ryan, and another starter named Jerry Koosman, who would go on to win 222 games. But because they’d been the laughing stock of baseball for their entire existence, and were facing the dominating Baltimore Orioles of Earl Weaver, no one, except, perhaps the 25 young men on the Mets’ roster, thought they had a chance.
The Battle of Salamis, wherein fewer than just over 380 Greek boats defeated more than 1,200 Persian ships. Note the use of the terms “boats” and “ships.” Boats are little. Ships are big. 1200 ships are supposed to win if they have 3-to-1 odds against much smaller boats.
Susan Boyle’s audition in front of Simon Cowell. (If you can watch it without tearing up, you’re not human.)
Ya see, we’re inspired by the underdogs, but for the wrong reason. We see them as random benefactors of chance. We consider their feats failures on the parts of the Orioles, the Persians and the snarky judges and smirking prom queens in the audience.
The moment David picked up those five smooth stones and strode toward the battle, he knew he was prepared (by practice and Divine providence) to win, and he knew he would win. The Mets expected to win, and the talented young “misfits” prepared to win. The Greeks had a superior strategy and executed it flawlessly as a result of preparation. Susan Boyle had sung for 39 years, imagining in her minds’ eye that stage, that audience, that opportunity, and thus, in preparation to blow us all away.
It ain’t what we expect that makes a difference. It’s what we prepare for.