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by LESLIE HARPOLD
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ALSO BY LESLIE HARPOLD
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Loan Rangers: Need some cash to get you to Sunday? Loan sharks John and Bobby can help — but can you afford the consequences?
Scrutiny of the Bounties: They track down fugitives, but they're not The Law — they're bounty
hunters, and they straddle the line between cops and criminals.
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CHECK THIS OUT!
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Smug.com: One of the few smart, entertaining sites on the Web that actually isn't smug...
A Love Letter to Smug: See? Forget Raymond — everybody loves Leslie!
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I am always rooting for the underdog.
There was a time when it was decidedly unbecoming to aim for number two or three or five, and the vibe was locked on getting the captain of the football team, the lead singer, the president of the math club, or the leader of whatever pack you ran with. This never held any appeal for me. Likely imprinting on "The Little Engine That Could" and Hong Kong Phooey cartoons, where the mild-mannered janitor everyone mocked morphed into a crime-fighting pooch who took the bad guys out by accident, I have never failed to see the redeeming qualities in bungling idiots.
There is a meaningful difference between the underdog and a born loser. The difference is a subtle one to the untrained observer, but it becomes far more obvious when the final totals are posted to the big board. A real underdog is not someone who fails, but someone who is not expected to win. Someone who shows up for the game a little late, usually to replace someone who might have been more prepared and confident. Underdogs have one thing in common — the trait I have grown to admire most about them — and that is an unfailing, unflinching belief in themselves, despite anyone's condemnation. A loser is someone who doesn't even realize there are odds working against him or her.
Face it, some people are engineered to be successful, some break out of the box with a team of experts to back them up, and some people are a little more loose cannon, a little less sharp shooter. The last ones are the people I love. Underdogs are always too smart for their own good, a little cocksure, but aware of their fallibility. Scratch the surface of an underdog and it's pure energy and emotion. They know they aren't the favorite and the odds are stacked against them.
Their game face is a position of strength. They never let anyone know they are fully aware they might not have a snowball's chance in hell. When questioned privately, underdogs will admit that they are pushing their luck, and almost always state their motivation thusly: "It probably won't work, but if it does..."
I respect that. Ross Perot is nuts, but I admire his moxy. I rooted for the Broncos. I wear Converse sneakers. Rooting for these people makes me feel like I'm rooting for myself, more hometown boy, less icon of perfection. I identify with that — hell, I live that. Every time you root for the underdog, you are rooting for me, you are rooting for yourself, and the brass ring gets a little more within reach. Because every time an Underdog wins, that makes it a little cooler not to be the favorite child. I like underdogs because they do not strive for half of anything. They are graceful losers and when they win, they win big.
Leslie Harpold is a freelance writer and editor of Smug. She's easily distracted by shiny things.
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