Brackets

Tournaments would not exist if it were not for the teams at the bottom of the brackets.

In total fairness and complete disclosure, there is some humor when I say this, and more than a little bit of salve on my battered ego from my team’s less than stellar finishes in recent bonspiels.

All of that aside, there is a great deal of truth to that statement. It would be a very boring and quick competition if only the two very best showed up to compete.

Take for example, the Running Maple Syrup Bonspiel held last weekend at the Medford Curling Club. There were a total of 28 teams competing. Of those teams only eight made it to the finals on Sunday afternoon in their various events. This leaves 20 teams, mine included, who from a purely mathematical standpoint existed only to be eliminated on some team’s path to victory.

In the immortal words of Christopher Lambert as Connor MacLeod in the generation-defining classic movie The Highlander, “There can be only one.”

In any race, contest or competition there can be only one winner.

Provided they played fairly, followed the rules and aren’t jerks about it, I am happy for whichever team wins a competition. They worked hard and should bask in the light of whatever glory they have, even if it is from a penlight on a cloudy night.

My thoughts about the importance of the also-rans doesn’t diminish the achievements of the ultimate victors. Cheering for the runner who comes in 312th in a race doesn’t take away from the person who set the new course record. If anything, having an understanding of the journeys of the also-rans can give perspective and make a victory, however you define it, even more sweet.

When I was younger, I helped organize a bike race that went from the Medford city park up to Mondeaux Flowage and back. The entire loop was about 42 miles. The best riders would be there and back around two hours. Others would take longer.

One year, a rider took seemingly forever to come back in from the course. There was some frustration from some volunteers and corner marshals about his speed, or lack of it.

Another runner, overhearing a comment someone made, took me aside and explained the individual who was slowing things down had been among the top people in the series at one time, but had a stroke and was only just to the point of being able to ride and race again. With every crank of his pedals and turn of his wheels, he was winning his race. I was among those who cheered and clapped and celebrated when he eventually crossed the finish line.

Every athlete on every field of play has some similar story. Each of them has a reason for why they are there and a definition of what they see as victory.

My team saw our bonspiel experience last weekend as a success. We won our first game against a strong opponent and made the teams that beat us have to work for it. Along the way we made some great shots and missed others that should have been gimmes. We also had a ton of fun and spent time catching up with old friends and making new ones.

To us, that second part is the more important. Sure, there are stories to tell of the legendary shots you saw made or made yourself, there are a lot more stories of the shots you tried but missed. There are the stories of the proverbial ones that got away through some errant speck of dust on the ice, or aligning of the planet or your third having your teammates sweep just a fraction of an inch too long. Above all else, there is the knowledge that while you could have saved yourself time and money, and missed out on the experience of starting a game at the time you normally consider going to bed, there is a sense of achievement in having made an effort, even if in the end you came up short to a better opponent.

To all my fellow also-rans in the bottom of every bracket, across every sport, be proud in the work you have done and celebrate the small victories that got you to where you are.

Brian Wilson is News Editor at The Star News. Contact Brian at BrianWilson@centralwinews.com.