6 foot 2, 200 pounds.
Those are the measurements of a grown man. Yet they belonged to the 12-year-old who stood in my way.
This was the setting of my 6th grade 3-on-3 basketball tournament—the first of three annual showdowns that granted a year’s worth of bragging rights.
My middle school hosted the event each year after finals. You just had to sign up with a team beforehand to play in front of the whole class.
I was a fairly new student then—I moved around and went to different schools when I was younger—and 6th graders weren’t allowed to play on the school’s basketball team. So hardly anyone knew who I was or if I could play.
By no means was I a budding star though.
This was before I got serious about the sport and I was a little husky back then. Plus I hadn’t yet discovered the wonderful world of contact lenses.
I wasn’t friends with the cool kids either. So my team consisted of myself and a bunch of rag-tag guys who never played organized basketball.
Our games weren’t pretty at all, but after surviving an early scare, we eventually made it to the finals. And to no one’s surprise, we looked up to the competition.
I was about 5’8” and tall for my age then, but the kid I described earlier—let’s call him AJ—was something different.
He dwarfed classmates and teachers alike. And last I heard, he grew to be 6’8” in high school.
His team was the clear favorite to win. His supporting cast alone would have given us trouble.
I knew we wouldn’t win going the conventional route. So I told my teammates the one rule I used in every championship after that:
“I’m not subbing out.”
Teams had to make two substitutions after every other basket. But my teammates agreed to swap while I stayed in.
Yes, the game required a team effort, but the whole gym knew it was really 6’2” Baby Huey versus the goofy black kid with glasses. And if I could keep my hands on the ball, we knew we’d have a chance.
AJ was huge but he had one weakness that gave me hope:
He was soft.
He blocked everything in his vicinity but on offense he wasn’t aggressive. Plus he had a bad habit of lowering the ball to shoulder-level when he shot. So he wasn’t tough to guard even with a half foot advantage.
I played against him a few times later and he definitely improved, but back then he didn’t know how to use his size—heck, I even blocked his shot.
His team knew they couldn’t guard me though. If I wasn’t double-teamed or getting my shot blocked, it was a guaranteed bucket. And this all made for great entertainment.
The whole class was treated to an absolute show. You would’ve thought a real game was going on with all those “ooh’s!” and “ah’s!”. Even the teachers huddled around to stare at the action.
That game was a sweaty slug fest. And while I don’t remember the final score, I do know that we pulled it off.
I scored 4 of the 5 points we needed to win. And the 5th point came off my game-winning assist. So I ran straight to the bench after we won.
No offense to my teammates, but they’re the reason I will never blame LeBron for leaving Cleveland. I was so gassed that I didn’t notice classmates storming the court to celebrate afterwards.
But to this day, those former classmates will tell you our victory didn’t just give a year’s worth of bragging rights…
It created a legend.
And while the added attention and respect were cool, the story we made also put a tremendous target on our backs.
Everyone wanted revenge. It got to the point where I quit playing at lunch because those reckless dudes almost injured me.
But even though receiving these new challenges got annoying, the competitor inside won’t let me lie:
That was my favorite part.
How To Win When You’re Not #1
A lot’s changed since I was a 12-year-old ballin’ out in glasses. But most would say the feats I’ve accomplished and the odds I’ve overcome have been just as legendary.
I try not to think of it like that though. It’s easy to let achievements go to your head. And I’ve experienced way too much of the other side to ever hype myself up.
But yes, I have displayed a knack for turning things upside down. And with some help, I’ve turned the tables on quite a few people who had an advantage.
This post will show you how to do the same thing.
So if you’re an underrated, undersized, underachieving underdog, get ready to rise above any giant.
Because this, is how you win when you’re not number 1.
Rule 1: Don’t Sub Out
Control what you can control.
That’s what I did. And it’s the reason why I proudly own two spots on the 3-on-3 championship plaque that still hangs at my old school. (It should be three but I lost 7th grade on some cheese…)
In all seriousness though, one of the first steps to reach any goal is to be the aggressor:
- Don’t wait for conditions to be perfect (they never will be).
- Don’t count on others to help (it means more to you anyway).
- And don’t worry if you’re good enough now (you’ll become good by doing it.)
Take matters into your own hands and go after what you want.
People who do more than anyone else almost always get rewarded. No, not because they’re lucky, but because they put themselves in favorable positions.
That’s what this is all about: positioning.
Watch a close game between a heavy favorite and an underdog, and one commentator will always say this:
“They’re hanging around…”
The favorite hasn’t done enough to put the game out of reach, and now all it takes is one play to shake things up.
That’s why you have to scrap, claw, fight, and survive.
No, it’s not glamorous but sometimes that’s all you can do—hang around.
Do everything you can to stay in the race. Then be patient and wait for your moment to strike.
Just remember that you can only wait if you prepared beforehand.
Overnight successes don’t exist. There are only overnight discoveries.
But if you set yourself in the right position, a lucky bounce will be all you need.
Rule 2: Embrace Unconventional
The funniest part of being an underdog is hearing the warnings people give you:
- “You have no idea what you’re doing.”
- “No one’s done it that way before!”
- “What are you, stupid?!”
They probably won’t say it outright, but their behavior will confirm that you don’t have their blessing.
And that’s okay. You don’t need it.
If you could succeed going the normal route you wouldn’t be an underdog. Anyone who doesn’t understand that needs to question their own intelligence.
Embracing unconventional behavior will make you comfortable in spite of the high stakes. And taking this abnormal approach will calm your nerves as well.
Most people are too scared to experiment and be themselves in the spotlight. But if you’re not, you’ll catch detractors off guard.
“Who am I to do something like this?”
That’s what they want you to think.
Confidence is reserved for winners, champions, alphas. And you’re not any of those…
But you will be.
So go ahead and act the part.
Rule 3: Set Your Standard
The worst mistake any underdog can make is setting the challenge as the standard.
What do I mean by that?
I mean you can’t allow the competition or the obstacle to set a precedent for how you act.
You can’t let the desired result—and by extension, people who have achieved that result—limit how you prepare.
The goal isn’t to simply meet the challenge. It’s to go above and beyond what it requires. And in order to do that, you have to hold yourself to a standard that brings the best out of you regardless of what the challenge is.
You don’t want to be the next Jordan, or the next Einstein, or the next whatever else. You want to be the first you.
Comparing yourself to others breeds disappointment when you fail and arrogance when you succeed. Neither of those are desirable traits.
But if you focus on doing the best you can do, you’ll never be ashamed of the outcome. And if things go well, you may just surpass the limit of what everyone else thought was possible.
Rule 4: Simplify and Humanize
Exaggeration is the biggest cause of fear.
Sure, there are times when fear is warranted, but in most cases, it’s due to viewing problems as greater than what they are.
You will never pull an upset if you believe the hype surrounding the competition. And you will never be aggressive if all you think about is what can go wrong.
You have to simplify and humanize:
- There’s no reason to stress over an exam. No one can test you on material you’ve never been taught. So if you studied the material and practiced it, you shouldn’t be scared.
- That “invincible” team is just a group of imperfect people. Yes, each person may have incredible strengths, but just like you, they have weaknesses.
- What’s so scary about being a content creator? It’s just you talking, writing, or doing whatever else about a topic you love.
Keep it simple, man.
Every person who’s done a great thing started out by doing a thing. So you can’t let fear prevent you from trying.
Yes, it may be difficult—you’re an underdog for a reason—but the higher the difficulty, the greater the opportunity.
You don’t want it to be easy anyway.
Easy is boring. Easy doesn’t get the blood pumping. Easy doesn’t make you feel alive.
You want the challenges to push you. You want the competition at full strength.
Stop looking for a cheap way out.
Simplify the challenge first. Then realize there’s nothing to run from.
Rule 5: Own the Narrative
There’s nothing anyone can say to steal your story.
If it’s a small lie, you ignore it. If it’s damaging, you fight it with truth.
But if they aren’t lying, you own it.
People can’t say anything true about you that you don’t already know. So why would you be ashamed?
- If they label you, amplify it.
- If they hate you, love them.
- If you make a mistake, bounce back.
You can’t control what people say but you can always control your response.
Awareness and self-control are the best tools to own the narrative. So if you’re not skilled in those departments, you have work to do.
Stop taking yourself so seriously and embrace your meme-ification. It’s hard for people to mock you when you’re laughing with them.
Understand that hate is just love with undesired circumstances. And if people hate you for doing good, it’s nothing to get worked up about.
Take ownership of the story no matter what people say.
It’ll make for a better tale in the end.
Rule 6: Build a Culture
The title of this post says, “How to Win When You’re Not Number 1,” but that’s misleading.
It implies you’ll only win one time, but I have no interest in getting lucky once and then fading back into obscurity.
You shouldn’t either.
Sustained excellence is what you really want. And to get that, you have to build a new culture.
You want people who not only want to win now, but also a year from now and the year after that. People who still want to be competitive five years down the line.
True victory isn’t just the achievement of a goal. It’s the institution of new values, attitudes, and behaviors.
In other words, it’s the creation of a system.
A system that attracts others who want to be part of the action. A system that demands more from it’s members but still encourages those who need it.
That’s the real goal.
“But how will I know when I’ve reached it?”
When you can look back on a win and say, “This is normal.”
Rule 7: Never Be Number 1
If you take one thing away from this post, it should be this:
Never be number 1.
I don’t care how many victories, feats, or accomplishments you have, you can never allow yourself to think you are number 1.
A lot of people think they want to win, but meeting the goal has never been their objective.
They’re just looking for a way out. What they want is the lifestyle of a winner. They don’t have a drive for the outcome itself.
The money, the status, the pics for the ‘gram, that’s what they want. And hey, they’ll get their satisfaction. But that’s not what true competitors desire.
A true competitor wants to overcome obstacles and still have fun at the same time.
I’m sure a few people saw the feats I accomplished and sneered at my presumed arrogance. But in reality, I was probably on Call of Duty an hour later.
I stopped caring about the praise and the status symbols years ago. The people handing those out will turn on you as soon as you disappoint them.
Now I just wanna win and hit up Taco Bell afterwards—that’s my idea of a good time.
Always remember what true competition is: simple, clean, fun.
If you’re not happy when you’re number 2, getting to the top won’t change a thing.
So make sure winning stays fun. Fighting for a crown is overrated.
Got Room for a Banner?
Pulling upsets is as much of an art as it is a science.
All you have to do is get your mind right first. Then you can add your personal mark to the canvas.
There’s no giant too big and no test too difficult to overcome. And if you ask me, those are just there to make the story more interesting.
So follow these 7 rules, make room for a new banner, and don’t worry if you’re not as excited as the audience…
They should be the only ones surprised.
-Drew
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