Contrary to popular opinion, the killer instinct isn’t a prerequisite of sporting success. In fact, it’s an unhealthy attribute to develop. It’s much healthier and personally and socially more beneficial to regard opponents as partners who, because of their competitive effort, afford you the opportunity to raise the level of your performance. You depend on them to extend your limits.

One of the most memorable stories of athletes as partners comes to us from the 1936 Olympic Games staged in Berlin, orchestrated by Nazi dictator Adolf Hitler to prove that Germans were the master race. Jesse Owens, the great Afro-American athlete representing the United States, was a world record holder in the long jump. After fouling his first two attempts, Owens was on the verge of being eliminated in the heats. Before his third and final jump, Lutz Long, Germany’s top jumper, rushed to his side and proffered a crucial tactical suggestion. Owens followed his advice and qualified for the final. Both athletes continued to push each other until Owens set an Olympic record in his last jump. Sportingly, Lutz held Owens’ hand aloft before thousands of cheering spectators, and both walked out of the stadium arm-in-arm. Owens went on to win four gold medals, denting the dictator’s master race propaganda.

The verb “to compete” is derived from the Latin competere, meaning “to seek together”.  Physical educators of the 1920s taught sportsmanship as well as track and field skills, emphasising health, vigour, high moral conduct, participation, and respect for opponents and rivals. Nowadays too, many men and women compete whole-heartedly without buying into the “super bull” mentality that winning is everything. They develop mutual respect and ties of friendship which often last a lifetime. They understand that to win is not to belittle; that winning is not fulfilling if the norms of fairplay aren’t respected, or participants don’t derive pleasure regardless of disappointments and failure.

In his book The Ultimate Athlete, George Leonard claims that “every aikidoist (a martial art) faces the problem of finding a good partner who will attack with real intent. The greatest gift he can receive from his opponent is clean, true attack, the blow that — unless blocked or avoided — will strike home with real effect”. Leonard’s message is clear: be thankful to your opponents. They are the people who enable you to experience the joy of sport, and push you to new heights.

While I may not have understood this truth when I was young, building lasting friendships has been a theme of my sporting life as well, together with physical competence, achievement and joy. Though I’ve competed in seven sporting disciplines from junior high school to the professional level, I have only a few memories of victories and defeats. I don’t believe winning taught me to be a gracious winner or losing readied me for more serious losses in life. Rather, 70 years of consistent participation in competitive sports and games has taught me how to play with empathy, humour and honesty. If a player challenges me on the senior basketball court, the game takes on a special thrill. The joy of winning is transitory, it doesn’t last very long.

Once one understands the spirit of a game, it’s not a matter of believing that winning and losing isn’t important, it becomes a matter of noticing it’s not. Some seem to notice — others don’t! We can play soccer, cricket, baseball, basketball or run competitively and enjoy ourselves, regardless of the outcome. We can play in a losing team but leave the court with little or no sense of loss. Likewise, we can win without feeling superior.

It is the responsibility of those who remain unspoilt by the seductive glow of victory to share this philosophy with young players. Children naturally enjoy comparing their skills: “How far can you throw the ball? Farther than I can? How do you do it? Will you show me?” It’s only when adults ascribe undue importance to victory that losing becomes devastating and enthusiastic athletes participating/playing for the joy of it, get hurt.

Adults must show children that what matters is not winning or losing, but how one plays the game. It’s important we don’t merely parrot this cliché, but demonstrate commitment to fair, participatory competition by paying equal attention to skilled and unskilled children; by allowing all children to participate fully regardless of outcome and by caring more about process rather than results. This way, children can comprehend what they seem to intuit: that competition can be a way to getting to know people, to be challenged, and to have fun in close and caring environments — to seek together.

To this day, some of my best friends are competitors who shared a court, field or game with me. Together we took risks, made mistakes, laughed and pushed ourselves to revel in the grace and beauty of sports and games. We’re playing with, not against each other, using each other’s skills and capabilities to fly higher.

Competition is not divisive but unifying, not hateful but inviting. Like other expressions of love, it should not be avoided because it is widely misunderstood.

(Dr. George A. Selleck is a San Francisco-based advisor to EduSports, Bangalore)