—
What drives this tyrannical beast? Is this eight-letter word worthy of its label, Champion? There are multiplicities of endearing metaphors assigned to this simple word mainly because of the world’s desire to be recognized as being of CHAMPIONSHIP caliber; some, however; may see it as a duplicitous, disruptive element of our society. This one word has caused immeasurable, moments, hours, days, years, decades and centuries of unbearable anxieties for millions of the earth’s inhabitants. One’s inability to become a CHAMPION; arguably holds the dubious, distinction of breaking more hearts and causing more disappointments than falling in and out of love ever has or will ever have caused.
Does narcissism get a seat at the table of wanting to become a CHAMPION? Is it wrong to have a burning desire to become a CHAMPION? Does exhibiting one’s athletic prowess diminish his/her achievements of becoming a CHAMPION?!
Most CHAMPIONS have been known to move with the elegance and grace of a swan, many are lauded for possessing the swiftness of a cheetah, some are said to have the ability to jump like a gazelle, while others are said to have muscles of steel and the ability to will themselves to an unconscionable height of competitiveness all while maintaining a laser-like focus that is unparalleled.
Millions dream of securing these innate God-given abilities so that they too will be in a position to unleash this “beast” and have their chances of being “KING” of the HILL. No one has ever really identified that HILL, only that one should have a burning desire and a never say never attitude to be the “KING” of this unnamed HILL!
What is this elusive dream; to be a CHAMPION, what is all of the hoopla about that surrounds this invisible, psychological sensation that has been known to drive some individuals to end their lives, destroy relationships, abandon families, bankrupt businesses destroy cordial relationships and desecrate communities?
I am the CHAMPION, me and me alone, I now can impress the entire world by driving down Main street in my Lexus, parking on “look-at-me” Avenue, displaying my trophies in the showroom window of a Michael Kors’ store, I continue my trek, with soft jazz playing as I meticulously roll down route 66, showing of my medals to world travelers as I ride off into the desert camping in the Sedona mountains, my head adorned with my crown saturated in turquoise, diamonds and Japanese Akoya cultured pearls with matching necklace and earrings!
Is a CHAMPION’S beauty described in my adornments, do I allow myself to be described by this thing called the “King” of the Hill? As time passes me by and my once fashionable attire is no longer the topic of conversation does my beauty fade as the latest trends debut?
Where is the beast, that beast that is now riddled with arthritis, that beast that is merely tolerating the painful scar tissue of life as birthdays continued to rain down like a tsunami?
Does the beauty devalue the beast? Does the beast devour the beauty? Maybe it shakes hands with the CHAMPION as they reminisce about the glory days, do they embellish the feats of the beast and show century-old pictures of the beauty… Maybe in retrospect, they put their tarnished medals, plaques and trophies on display only to forget what they were supposed to represent as they notice the stifling, dust that has corroded the inscriptions that were once carefully and excitedly placed by the expert craftsmen who delighted in there preparation.
What has life cost me to be labeled a CHAMPION? Am I comfortable teetering at the top of the HILL, after all I am known as the CHAMPION, I command respect, I command aspiration, I command privilege, I command attention, I am the bell/beau of the ball, the crowd is here to see me, everyone else is a minor inconvenience or so it seems, the “KING” of the HILL is the be all to end all or is it all a dream, am I asleep, what happens if I awake and find out that it is all true?
Fade to black…, nothing else matters, I’ve got to be the KING” of the Hill, and I’ve got to be the CHAMPION! I will dedicate and commit my entire being to stand at the apex of this invisible treasure, me and me alone, standing proudly, basking in the cheers of the crowd, shaking hands with the rich and famous, dining at the best “bistros” in Baltimore and sobbing in my beer.
Look at me, a miserable wreck, never mind my inward appearance for I am the CHAMPION!
I personify the “BEAUTY” of the “BEAST!” My legacy lives on as I fade into the background, but you see, I am only a distant memory!
Get the best stories from The Good Men Project delivered straight to your inbox, here.
Sign up for our Writing Prompts email to receive writing inspiration in your inbox twice per week.
—
Photo credit: Pixabay