The sports world is an interesting arena.  Only in sports do we find ourselves embracing certain spirits and features that seem to always be in a combustible war with each other in the rest of society.  You can argue the workings of capitalistic economies versus the seemingly empathetic socialistic forms of wealth distribution till you are blue in the face, however only one truth reigns supreme in the sports world.  Results!  Things that work stay.  Things that do not are cast aside and left behind.  It may seem savage, but in the athletic world you either win, place high enough, or are left in the dust.

Now, do not get me wrong.  There are levels to this.  Athletics are an excellent tool to teach the youth of the country teamwork, discipline, and goal structuring.  Naturally, in very young age groups, the rules of excellence are relaxed.  We want kids to play.  We want them to see the values that sports provide.  We want them to learn that the attributes that make athletes successful will also translate to every day interactions.  Work gets done when there is focus, hard work, and a plan.  However, as we climb the ladder from young children, to middle school, then high school, college, and lastly the professional adult level, the cream rises and the rest find something else to do.  It’s a natural progression and must be preserved.

Why you ask?  It’s simple, winning is the goal.  Sure, there are times when participation is what’s great about the experience.  Others use sports to stay in shape, meet people, or learn something new.  However, when money or prestige is on the line, winning is what matters.  Results are what matters.  If we are to survive in the world, these lessons must be observed and we must be able to make decisions for ourselves that continue our existence and development.  Accepting something, just because it would be a shame to replace it, is not advancing our lives or helping anyone.

For example, if I wanted to play for the Olympic Volleyball team, I’d need to qualify and be one of the best players in the country.  Yet, if they brought me on, because it just wouldn’t be nice to cut me, what’s the point of the program?  Look at all the harm that decision causes.  First, it would deflate other players from achieving their top potential and achieve their Olympic dream.  “Why bust my butt, if they just let anyone in?”  I’d make the Olympic practices weaker, hence, making the team less prepared for the main event.  I’d take a spot from a player that probably could truly help the team succeed.  I might get hurt, or worse yet hurt another player, perhaps a key player, with my involvement.  All around, it’s a mess and a mistake.  In this example, and it is an overly dramatic example, I do not work.  I must be cast aside for something, or in this case someone, that does.

Now, as I live week to week, I see the increase of intrigue in the Vibram shoe product.  People are starting to buy them.  They like the uniqueness of them.  They like the idea of getting their feet stronger.  I can only guess that Vibram sales are starting to climb.  I applaud this.  It is what should be happening.  Here we have a product that is actually better for you.  It will help you.  It will get you stronger.  Talk about a throwback idea and concept.  For all the BS that other companies have thrown at the consumer for years, to finally have a product that actually can help you out is so refreshing.  How Vibram got there isn’t the point.  How people learned about it, or how many jump on the wagon, isn’t the point either.  What matters is that shoes that do not get the job done are being replaced, and are being replaced with an improved product.  This is a good thing, and the correct evolution of matters.

When I started wearing FiveFingers to play grass and beach volleyball two years ago, I was the only one in my neck of the woods.  Each year, however, more and more volleyball athletes are wearing them in grass and beach play.  Last week, I teased a recent convert with, “You know you got those on because you want to ball like the old timer (aka., me)!”  He looked at me with a smile and said, “Nope!  They’re on my feet because they work, Big Dog!”  The sports world has spoken!