Recently, popularity changed her formula with a magic bullet. The new formula is: look effortless and nonchalant while making history. This is what Turkey’s Yusuf Dicek did when he seemed to just walk in from the crowd, pick up his pistol, and take aim at the target with both eyes exposed while his other hand rested in his pocket at the competitive shooting arena during the 2024 Olympics in Paris. Defying conventions, he didn’t wear any elaborate protective gear like other contestants. His choice was a casual T-shirt and a blue pair of what looked like vacation pants. He and his shooting partner Sevval Ilayda won the Silver medals in the 10 m air pistol event. The Gold Medal, the highest recognition of any sporting talent, went to Serbian mixed shooters. It turned out that Dicek was playing second fiddle. But when it came to media coverage, the runner-up was hogging all the limelight, the media straying from its usual practice of giving a special spotlight on champions. In contrast, the video clips of Dicek’s performance went viral all over the world. The internet broke. At least, the viral videos and comments inundated my Facebook feeds.
“Nobody remembers who finished second but the guy who finished second,” Bobby Unser said. Bobby Unser is a legendary racing driver who won the prestigious Indianapolis 500 three times (1968, 1975, and 1981) and knows what he is saying. As much as in most aspects of life, the credo of winner-takes-it-all is true in the sporting world too. For instance, if you are not an avid heavyweight boxing geek, there is a high chance of forgetting who lost to Muhammad Ali in the finals of the World Heavyweight Championships and the Olympics in 1960. The losers are always dumped in the memory’s dustbin.
What changed in the case of Dicek? The answer may lie in our intrinsic love for people who are likeable. In fact, psychologists say that we are more likely to be friends and marry people who are like us. We socialise with people who think, live, dress like us and reside in proximity. We gravitate to individuals and groups that identify with our tastes, lifestyles and aspirations. Dicek’s image as a regular, the guy next door and his unassuming mannerisms in the Olympics arena wowed us. He appeals to our subliminal aspiration to make an impact on the world while still being ordinary. In other words, he fits our idea of an underdog.
Underdogs are the heroes in folklore, movies, literature and real life. Their supposed flaws and powerlessness draw our sympathies and make us stand and applaud them. In the Biblical parable, Goliath monopolises our hopeful prayers and hearts in his fight against the mighty David, who had strength, size and resources in his favour. There is a little bit of Goliath in all of us who want to conquer self-loathing and fear and kill a psychological David that casts its dark spell on our lives.
It’s the reason we celebrate the sporting success of Manipur, which has produced icons like Mary Kom, Mirabai Chanu, Dingku, Kunjarani Devi, Sarita Devi and many others. Before they achieved their sporting feats, they were us—the underdogs. Little known, struggling, and driven only by hopes for a lift from their uneventful lives. Their lives mirrored ours and when they succeeded in a harsh world, their triumphs strengthened our own resolve to soldier on and see the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel.
But what separates the underdog achievers from the rest of us is their grit and determination. While many people set their sights on some lofty targets, the true underdogs work hard with tremendous focus and tangible actions instead of mere daydreaming. Their consistency is the key.
"Being an underdog instils the ability to persevere, to innovate, and to remain resilient in the face of failure,” Malcolm Gladwell writes in his bestseller Outliers: David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants. “The act of facing overwhelming odds produces greatness and beauty.”
If we look at history over a gigantic scale of millennia, the underdogs have always been winning. The momentous epochs in human civilisations occurred due to the rise of the underdogs without warning for their disruptions. From the great epics and cave paintings to written accounts, it’s the little men and women who challenged the status quo and persevered in altering or overthrowing it. The archetypes of hero, mentors, tricksters, mother, etc, are elements of one unified subtext which is the ultimate victory of the humble individuals and the good in the end to usher in a change for the better by overcoming obstacles and powers of the elites.
Take Bangladesh; the country is undergoing a monumental upheaval. History is being made in a country where an entrenched regime has crumbled under the little voices that became a force when united. It is not a deviation. That a minority elite has never been able to perpetuate its rule by sheer force and retribution is a lesson that history has taught us. But this lesson is often unlearned, wrongly assuming that this time perhaps the egoistic rule will last forever. Alas, nothing is permanent. The underdogs, if not vocal all the time, inevitably rise up in time to tilt the power balance. The students in Bangladesh are the underdogs who have seized their timely role in transforming the political landscape with nothing more than doggedness and direct action. As exemplified by the political churnings in Bangladesh, history is written by unexpected gatecrashes, not cautious knockings on the door.
Their supposed weaknesses turn into strengths at the crucial times when all the chaos comes to meet the Goldilocks conditions. The apparent harmlessness of the downtrodden and marginality keep them hidden from the radar of the powers that be. This invisibility allows them to tailor their own strategies and hone their skills, often making do with what is available at their disposal instead of taking the trodden and established routes. They experiment and push the edges of the possibility by defying conventions which is the only way they could excel in the absence of structural support.
This trajectory of the rise of underdogs provides a glimmer of hope in the darkest moments. And what can be bleaker than the situation of internally displaced people in Manipur who have left their houses and are living in stolid conditions in the relief camps due to the ethnic clashes? There is a hope though remotely envisioned. It emanates from the tales of countless families from another era in another continent which survived the Holocaust but produced men and women of great accomplishment despite and because of the horrors they experienced. At the risk of valorising the sufferings experienced by the displaced people, including children and students, it can be said that their ordeals will somehow strengthen their will to live and thrive in an unkind world, their pain already forged in the crucible of fire. “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way,” said Victor Frankl in his book “The Man’s Search for Meaning.”
On the flip side, power is ephemeral. It expends itself once it reaches its pinnacle for many reasons, if not for lack of a higher goal but sheer inertia, that makes the incumbent rudderless. As Plato told us, “Those who seek power are not worthy of that power.” The paradox is that power is so intoxicating that one lucky enough to grasp it thinks it will defeat the only truth in the universe, which is that change is the only constant.
I will end on a positive note. Adversities in life are nature’s way of separating the real underdogs from the passive romantics. Our best underdogs are those who look like one: ordinary, effortless, and down to earth–and deliver dramatically. As in mythology, a layman leaves home and faces obstacles in her journey, but ultimately gets what she desires intimately. This is what Dicek, as are many sports stars from Manipur, did. They start small and act humble but deliver world-class performance while looking the part in the process. Let’s thank that second places exist for they show the top prize is near enough and push us to our best limits.