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Business News/ Mint-lounge / Mint-on-sunday/  LeBron James and the power of self-belief
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LeBron James and the power of self-belief

The best athletes have it in spades. Even when two mediocre, evenly matched players face off, the one who has it usually wins

Photo copyright 2015 NBAE Nathaniel S. Butler/NBAE via Getty Images/AFPPremium
Photo copyright 2015 NBAE Nathaniel S. Butler/NBAE via Getty Images/AFP

After the fifth game of the 2015 National Basketball Association finals on 14 June, LeBron James met the press. A reporter asked him, “LeBron, you seem to be playing a lot more comfortable… do you feel a lot less pressure (this year) as opposed to previous years?"

James had just finished a fantastic game, scoring 40 points, pulling down 14 rebounds and handing out 11 assists. Yet it wasn’t enough: his Cleveland Cavaliers had just lost to the Golden State Warriors, giving the latter a 3-2 lead in the seven-game series. Meaning, the Warriors were one victory away from the championship. And, in fact, the next game ended in that final Warriors victory. They won the title 4-2.

But answering the reporter that day, James minced no words. “Nah. I feel confident ’cause I’m the best player in the world. It’s simple."

It’s a breathtaking thing to say, even if it’s likely true. It’s an even more breathtaking thing to say coming off a loss. Yet, in this particular case, it serves well to underline an old truth about the game of basketball (or indeed any sport): a team effort will defeat individual brilliance, every time. James carried the Cavaliers through four hard-fought games, racking up eye-popping numbers as the teams battled to a 2-2 stalemate. But by then the Warriors’ broader-based team effort had taken its toll. James and his Cavaliers simply ran out of steam. The Cavaliers might have the best player in the world, but the Warriors are the better team.

Yet, in that rarefied air of sporting excellence that James inhabits, perhaps you need that belief in yourself. Perhaps you need to believe implicitly in your superiority in order to make it really count. There are ways sports folks talk about this: killer instinct, mental strength, competitive edge and maybe more. All of which, I think, really boils down to that self-belief. The best players have it in spades. But even when two mediocre but evenly matched players face off, it’s the one who has it who usually wins.

Through several years being mediocre at several sports, I have had some up-close-and-personal looks at this idea. But I have never forgotten my very first time.

That was at our school sports meet when I was all of 14, and I was running the 1,500m. Now I was miserable at sprints and long jumps and whatever else happened at those meets, but over some months, an uncle had actually trained me specifically for the 1,500m event. By that day, I was ready, and primed to do well. As I ran out to take my place at the start, my uncle whispered that he expected me to win. Nobody else did, though. Also running the 1,500m that day was a boy two classes senior to me—I will call him R—who had won so many school races that everyone expected him to win this one, no question.

The toy gun fired and we were off. We had to run nearly four laps of the stadium. I quickly settled into the rhythm familiar from all those sessions with my uncle, smooth and steady. I wasn’t in the lead, but close enough to the frontrunners that I knew my final kick would catch them, if I needed it. I remember thinking, I can do this. Believing in myself and all that.

Soon after we finished the second lap, I noticed R behind me, thumping along in his somewhat contorted but so-effective style. He was at my shoulder, angling to overtake. I moved just a bit to cut him off. He moved the other way, I moved back. He sped up, I did too. For better than a whole lap, he and I went at it this way, R trying to overtake, me easily staying ahead—to the extent that I began to feel I was actually toying with him. I felt fresh and eager. In contrast, somehow I knew R felt he didn’t have the juice to blow past me. Somehow I could sense his rising panic: if I can’t pass this skinny dude, how will I win? But me? I was running a fine race, on my terms. I knew I could keep this up as long as I wanted; and if I beat R to the finish line, almost certainly the winner would be one DD. Making his uncle happy.

Believing in myself and all that. Right.

Until… there on the track, as we brown-eyed handsome men rounded the final turn and headed for home—and if I ever visit the stadium, I’m sure I can pinpoint the spot—right there, something wormed into my brain. So many years later, I still remember it with utter clarity, I’m still bewildered that I thought it at all right then, and I still cringe at the memory. Yes, this thought came to me and I swear I’m not making it up: “Hey! I’m not supposed to win this thing, R is!"

I need hardly tell you what happened next. R thumped triumphantly past me. So did two others. In a race I had for the taking, that I should have won going away, I finished fourth. I never came as close to winning a race—any race—ever again. And I have spent most of the years since reliving that moment, hardly able to believe I let that 1,500m race slip from my hands.

Mostly, I’m hardly able to believe I had that foolish but instantly devastating thought. But call it a quick lesson in what the mind does. In the power self-belief offers. In the shambles self-doubt causes.

So, I think LeBron James knew the Warriors were the better team than his Cavaliers. But I don’t think he ever thought: “Hey! We are not supposed to win this thing, Golden State is!" After all, he is the best player in the world. He said so himself.

Once a computer scientist, Dilip D’Souza now lives in Mumbai and writes for his dinners. His latest book is Final Test: Exit Sachin Tendulkar.

Twitter: @DeathEndsFun

Death Ends Fun: https://dcubed.blogspot.com

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Published: 27 Jun 2015, 11:35 PM IST
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