Minutes after the Buffalo Bills held on to beat the Baltimore Ravens 27–25 in the A.F.C. divisional game, a sideline reporter asked the Bills’ quarterback Josh Allen what he’d been thinking when the Ravens had failed on a late bid to tie the score. Allen beamed. “All year, this team has heard we got no talent, we’re too small, we can’t stop the run, we’re not good enough to compete,” he said. “We just put our heads down and worked hard.” Before long, in a press conference, the team’s coach, Sean McDermott, echoed Allen’s sentiments.

 

Minutes after the Buffalo Bills held on to beat the Baltimore Ravens 27–25 in the A.F.C. divisional game, a sideline reporter asked the Bills’ quarterback Josh Allen what he’d been thinking when the Ravens had failed on a late bid to tie the score. Allen beamed. “All year, this team has heard we got no talent, we’re too small, we can’t stop the run, we’re not good enough to compete,” he said. “We just put our heads down and worked hard.” Before long, in a press conference, the team’s coach, Sean McDermott, echoed Allen’s sentiments.
No one seems to embrace the nobody-believes-in-us rallying cry quite like football teams and their fans. Psychologists have identified plausible explanations for why it might help to embrace the underdog status (or pretend you’re one). Underdogs have lower expectations of winning, which might help insulate players against the pain of defeat, A sense of disrespect can fuel feelings of injustice and competitiveness; even though athletes often talk about ignoring the “noise,” many of them relish proving people wrong. Read more about why so many winning teams love to act like underdogs.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

“On March 6, 2020, Andrew and I went to a rave. If it weren’t for what happened later, I don’t think it would have stood out in my memory.” In an excerpt from her forthcoming memoir, Emily Roxy Witt writes about New York at the beginning of the pandemic—the uncertainty, the fear, the loss, the protests, the rage, the loneliness—and the end of a relationship. The Last Rave The Last Rave In the summer of 2020, I felt as if I’d entered the wrong portal, out of the world I knew and into its bizarro twin.

The Mexican director Sara Gómez, who died in 1974, made about 20 short documentaries in her short life, starting in 1961, two years after the Revolution. In 1974, she shot her only feature-length film, “One Way or Another,” completed posthumously, which mixes a romantic drama with documentary sequences. Gómez, the first woman to direct movies in Mexico, created “a body of work that was in the creative and political forefront of its time and, in many ways, remains so even now,” Richard Brody writes. “Gómez, with her blend of documentary and fiction, of drama and intellectual analysis, devised a new cinematic method, which she used to express a powerful vision of her country, her time, and her own place in both.”

The entrepreneurial ethic addresses a central tension of capitalism: people need to work to earn a living, but stable, fulfilling jobs are hard to find. In times of economic inequality, the prospect of becoming your own boss holds a lot of appeal.