I’m Supposed to Win:

Victory as it relates to competitive identity

The majority of spectators love to watch an underdog triumph. It’s a song of struggle and victory that resonates with the human soul. The numbers say they shouldn’t win. The past lives heavy on their shoulders. They feel the pressure before the match begins. The fight begins. The underdog throws themselves hard against a barrier that seems massive. Yet, they see the edge. They pull and climb. At the end, they are beyond the wall that they only imagined scaling. They see a future they had only heard about, and it fills them with a rush like no other.

This is the narrative that drives spectators wild. In Melee, it is no different. During Genesis 4, Johnny “S2J” Kim made the crowd pause and hope during his match against Adam “Armada” Lindgren. The weight of the underdog story was enough to make the crowd dare that it could be done.

Yet, the tale of the underdog is an entirely different force to those who compete. When one is in the arena, the weight of the narrative can make or break the player. This stems from the sense of identity that one carries with them into a match. A competitor can view themselves as part of a greater story being written. They are the villain, the hero, the underdog, the GOAT, the god, or whatever label suits their interpretation. They inherit the sense of a character, rather than the competitor.

It’s nothing new, and we are only human. It is a basic human instinct to imagine ourselves as something greater and destined. Yet, the narrative is a double edged sword that is dangerous for any competitor to wield. In the match between S2J and Armada, we can see where the narrative drove Johnny on, and then cut him down. A single moment of overextension that shifted the momentum in favor of Armada. One bad knee.

In this single moment, S2J felt the weight of victory. After three games of great spacing, patience, and a defensive neutral, he went for a very risky end. Had the knee connected, Genesis 4 would have been a very different tournament. Instead, Armada took a defensive route and moved to force a whiff. Afterwards, a single nair ended the game, and the match continued.

From this single moment, the entire match shifted over to Armada. S2J started to play different. He would have moments where he became too aggressive, and miss punishes, or too defensive, and letting punishes go. Add in Armada’s shift to a neutral more focused on ground work, and the match became what people expected. Armada earned his three game comeback.

The emotional weight of victory is heavy. The feeling of victory in one’s grasp can, and has, been a deciding factor in a player’s ability to close a match. While this is great for a spectator, it is dangerous for competitors. Victory can mutate the mental fortitude of a competitor into a negative force.

At many weeklies, there are players that always win against other players. It’s a routine game, where both understand the typical part that they play. Yet, the complacency of victory can make a higher ranked player lazy. They know what to expect, and set themselves to autopilot. Then, they lose a game. From there, it should be a straight forward readjustment. Adapt to what has changed, and secure the next game. For some, this is simple. For others, a single thought can make such an adjustment impossible. “I’m supposed to win." They see the victory as predestined, based on the fact that they won before. Adjusting becomes slower. “I’m supposed to win. Why? Why aren’t I winning?" The haze of adrenaline keeps playing the message over and over. Focus becomes hard, and instinct takes over.

The tale of the underdog, and the expectation of repeated victory stem from the same mental block. Victory has become part of the identity of the competitor. It’s a backwards relationship between competitive identity and its byproducts. Victory is never guaranteed. It is the result of skill, experience, and fortitude. Victory is a result of how one competes. Victory is not the priori, of which competition fills in the blanks. Yet, every competitor falls into this trap at some point. There is either a player they can not beat, due to the expectation of loss, or a player who seems to fly past, due to being stuck in expected skill and behavior.

If one is to break this cycle, an understanding of competitive identity must be had. Victory or loss must be removed as an expected part of one’s match. Knowing the odds is one thing. Letting the odds dictate one’s play is entirely different. When one sits down, past results do not matter. What matters is how one plays at the current moment. This moment is undecided, and victory is only given to the better competitor. A match is the application of one’s skill as a competitor. Nothing more. If one loses, then it is because their actions as a competitor were lacking. Not because the victory was decided beforehand. If one wins, then the reverse is true.

To a competitor, this changes the dynamic of pressure. It is not the victory that is the focus. It is the moment. Victory or loss is only thought of when it happens. To let the pressure of either seep in, is to forgo the moment for an undecided future.

In all, victory is not to be thought of as a part of one’s competitive identity. Victory is a result of how one competes. One does not compete because they will be victorious. To expect victory or loss, is to let the weight of either affect one’s mental state.