Who Wants It More?

Who wants it more?

This is the big question in sports. Players never hesitate to call each other out on how badly they want a win, or to point out where someone else’s wanting evidently exceeded their own. Often coaches use the phrase, almost as an excuse, “We made some good plays and they made some good plays, but when it came down to it, they wanted it more.”

Marcus Ginyard, a forward for the Tar Heels, was recently quoted as saying, “Maryland, no doubt, wanted it more”, referring to the Terps’ upset of previously undefeated North Carolina. What does this mean? Am I led to believe that North Carolina, at 17-0, didn’t really mind losing a game to unranked Maryland? That they figured a loss wouldn’t hurt them in tournament standings? And that these differing levels of wanting were responsible for the outcome?

Sure, wanting to win is a crucial part of playing basketball. Let’s ignore, for a little bit, the fact that there are other crucial elements, such as making shots for example. Where could we go with this?

The New England Patriots: Now there’s a team that’s good at wanting. Tom Brady, Randy Moss, Donte’ Stallworth, Wes Welker…I don’t know if they’re talented or not, or if they work hard, but seeing as they haven’t lost a game all season, they must have powerful desires. Bill Belichick breaks the rules of fair play and surreptitiously tapes the Jets? It’s forgivable; he just wants it more (actually, this is what the penalty imposed by the NFL amounts to).

I guess we could say that Barry Bonds, upset with the lack of attention despite producing some of the best stats in recent history, wanted it more. Right? He decided to boost his power totals in order to be as visible and as celebrated as Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, and I imagine he was totally committed to doing whatever was necessary to achieve it. And he succeeded, becoming baseball’s all-time home run leader. He must have wanted it more.

I guess Philip Rivers must have wanted it more too. Virtually everyone saw him on the Chargers’ sideline during the final seconds of their playoff win over the Colts, talking some trash with the Indy fans (brushing away the fact that he wasn’t even on the field for the winning drive). Look at the fire in his eyes and his hands as he yells at the seats. A man to admire, really; look at how badly he wanted it.

Why do we admire “wanting it” all that much? I understand that we pay professional athletes millions of dollars, and that their drive to succeed is important to their careers, so it’s difficult to criticize them for it. But we expect them to “want it” constantly and completely, regardless of how this desire might affect their behavior and their psyche.

Think about how this principle would work in areas of life unrelated to sports.
If your business hires a new employee, and he does everything he can to be promoted to management as soon as possible, you could say that he wanted it more. You could also say he was power-hungry, or a money-grubber, or any other of a number of pejoratives. If a guy decides to buy a girl flowers every day for a year, despite her rejections, you could say that he wanted it more. You could also say that he was desperate.

Bobby Fischer was the United States’ first chess celebrity. An absolute genius and a fierce competitor, he was never satisfied with a match that ended in a draw - he always played to win. He passed away last week, effectively exiled from his home country, his reputation for antisocial and offensive behavior nearly overshadowing his formidable skill. His desire to succeed at a game could not be kept separate from how he lived the rest of his life.

We quickly lose respect for athletes, such as Carl Pavano or Jaromir Jagr, if we feel they’re giving less than a hundred percent. But there’s danger at the other end of the spectrum as well; being consumed with desire can be just as damaging, if not more so, and can produce victories that are empty at best. Sometimes games are simply games, and sometimes “wanting it” simply leaves you…wanting.

Tony Dungy has announced that he will return as the Colts’ head coach for at least one more year. Although I’m glad he decided to continue coaching, his reputation would not have suffered had he opted for retirement. Players and analysts praise his considerable coaching skills, and his Super Bowl ring speaks for itself, yet he genuinely considers leaving it behind for something more important. The desire to win football games seems for Dungy neither too weak nor too strong; he provides a wonderful example of successfully “wanting it” without “wanting it” too much.