For someone who's craved attention and recognition my entire life, it's tough to admit: I don't think there's anything in this world that I am the best at, or as the new generation calls it, the G.O.A.T. at (greatest of all time at). Of course there are cliches and encouragement from others saying you can only do the best to your ability, but I just wish when the question of "name something interesting about yourself" in icebreaker events and questionnaires, I could just list "I am the best (insert here cool activity) in the world" and be able to claim that as part of my identity, make a name for myself. Best juggler in the world. Best hot dog eater in the world (heard competitive eating is actually pretty hard). Best at translating Chinese and Japanese into English in the world. Best in the world at finding directions on a map, a lost skill. Best Midwest U.S. Geography expert in the world (at least that could be marketable on a trivia team). Even best random customer who strikes up conversation at a barber shop in the world. (I did that today at my local barbershop by talking up the whole room of barbers and customers, making the whole room laugh. I felt like the comedian, another job I wish I was the best at). Just any skill that someone who knew me could refer anyone to me if in need of that particular skill. (Oh, you need to know that obscure Missouri city with all the attraction parks? - Branson, MO!) Even something like Nancy Reagan being known posthumously as "#Throatgoat" wouldn't be the worst. Especially in today's society where people only care about the best. or else it doesn't really matter, the G.O.A.T.'s get exponentially more attention than the runners-up.
I often wonder what it's like to be the greatest at something, to know that there's no one else that's better at you than that one thing. It must be a refreshing feeling, sitting down at a chess table not knowing who your opponent is but being absolutely certain that you're better than that person. Or you walk into a pickup basketball game and knowing you can dunk over everyone. Or you go into a trivia contest knowing you know more than anybody else there. That's greatness, and having everyone else also know that you're the best is just the icing on top. But then I thought: wouldn't I get bored at being the best? If there are no more challengers, wouldn't I just get complacent and feel unchallenged? I would have no more Mount Everests to climb, no higher goal to attain. (This is pretty much the plot of the Japanese anime One Punch Man, Saito just punches everyone with one punch and desperately seeks someone who is his equal). Especially for someone like me, who gets bored with things very quickly, it's very likely I lose interest in that activity or discipline and just move on to the next thing. In fact, I already do that now, leaving Japanese to study Korean without fully getting to the end, or jumping back into chess when I haven't gotten good enough at trivia or languages yet. So maybe it's a good thing that I have more targets to achieve, another hill to climb.
Maybe on a related note, I love stories about journeys. Whether it's Bill Bryson's story about hiking the Appalachian Trail or Martin Sheen's movie "The Way" or the most recent book by Sean Dietrich (Sean of the South) about biking the B&O Canal Bikepath, I apparently love stories about journeys. Makes sense; I've always been someone who liked going to new places and long distances; to this day I still want to do long car trips all across the country, but it has to be cars because I can't handle being outside in the woods with mosquitos, snakes, bears, and anything outdoors at night. Maybe that's psychologically related to my yearning for greatness, that drive for completion to finish the path that I've started and finally round the last bend in the road and see my destination, making the whole journey worth it. That's the same motivation driving me to try to be great, even though I know I won't be the best in the world at something, I'll know at least I finished the journey and saw the the destination city, the Brandenburg Gate, the statute marking the end, the mountaintop, whatever it is. Maybe if I can't be the Greatest myself, at least be able to see some semblance of what the Greatest see when they reach the top.
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