"We" didn't win anything...

I overheard something at the coffee shop recently that I can't stop thinking about.

Guy in a Nuggets jersey talking to his friend: "Dude, we CRUSHED the Lakers last night!"

We?

Based on his height and width, I was fairly certain this dude wasn't on the Nuggets payroll.

He didn't run drills at 5 AM. He didn't study game film for hours. He didn't put his body on the line. He didn't risk failure in front of millions.

He watched millionaires play basketball... on his couch... while eating Doritos.

And yet: "WE won."

It's fascinating how quickly we claim membership in the hero's story.

Without doing any of the hero's work.

This happens everywhere, not just sports.

People watch movies about the good guys doing hard things to save the world.

They complain on social media about the guy they didn’t vote for.

And they follow a slew of business gurus, all promising to share their “secret.”

But they don't do any of the work.

Because being the hero is hard.

It's supposed to be.

If you’ve caught my last few emails, here's the uncomfortable truth I've been circling around:

Most people don't actually want to be the hero of their own story.

They say they do.

But they don't.

Not really.

Because being the hero means sacrifice.

It means danger.

It means failure.

It means criticism.

It means 10,000 hours of practice when no one's watching.

It means making the hard choice when everyone else makes the easy one.

The hero's journey isn't just some feel-good template that applies to everyone.

Donald Miller is wrong.

It's a rare path that most people actively avoid.

Most people would rather sit safely in the stands, wearing the team colors, and pretend they're part of the victory.

"We won."

No, buddy. THEY won. You watched.

There's nothing wrong with being a fan. The world needs fans.

But don't confuse cheering with contributing.

Don't mistake watching for doing.

And definitely don't claim the victory if you didn't risk the defeat.

I've spent the last few months pondering something specifically for the real players, not the spectators.

For the people willing to get into the arena.

For the 1% who aren't content to just watch life happen around them.

This isn't for everyone, and that's the point.

Heroes are rare.

Most people are comfortable with "good enough."

With watching rather than doing.

With claiming victories they never earned.

Which one are you?

Anyway, the guy in the Nuggets jersey just ordered a caramel frappuccino with extra whipped cream.

Somehow that feels appropriate.

Take care,

Greg