In my 8 years of competing in Super Smash Brothers Melee I have gone through various phases in regards to my mentality concerning competition. When I started playing in 2016 I was enamored with the pursuit of optimal play and Mew2King was the embodiment of that for me.

I spent countless hours grinding out punishes and movement in solo practice on the little CRT I had at home. This was a time where netplay was not as developed as it is now and finding good practice was hard to come by. I didn’t mind this, as I never had much trouble hyperfocusing for hours when it came to Melee (who could’ve guessed I would be diagnosed with ADHD many years later).

In the years to come, I started thinking more about the aspects of competition that go beyond just the game itself. How do you deal with nervousness? What about sub-par playing conditions? How do you optimize learning for long-term growth? The player I most looked up to in that time, was Armada. In his time competing, Armada has left a staggering legacy. Rarely placing lower than third at tournaments and almost never losing to anyone outside of the top 5 ranked players. Add to all that, that he is from Europe, a traditionally weaker region compared to the US and you have to wonder what set him apart from his peers.

So I dove right into finding out the answer to that question. I read a bunch of articles and books on competition (yes, even The Inner Game of Tennis, which has become a meme of sorts in the community). In time I started to construct an image in my mind of the ‘perfect competitor’. Someone who dilligently works on themselves, someone who trusts the process, someone who is not afraid to put themselves out there, for they know that if they put in the work, they will reap results.

I tried to dedicate myself to this mindset as much as possible in all that I did. Whenever I found myself getting lazy, I reminded myself of the ‘perfect competitor’ whom I wished to embody so bad. Of course there was some ego involved in this goal. I really wanted to prove to myself that I could achieve greatness, like my idols. On my way there, I hoped I could inspire my peers to try their best and to dedicate themselves to a similar goal.

A lot of time has passed since then and I have not been able to achieve the goals I set for myself. I saw some progress, but it was never quite fast enough to get ahead of the competition. In time, doubt started to creep in, whether or not I have what it takes in the first place. I started to feel like there was something outside of my grasp, some illusive concept or understanding that I could never quite get a hold of, which stood between me and my goals in Melee.

This has caused me a lot of despair at times. I started to gain the feeling that any change in my approach to Melee I tried had little consequence in propelling me forward. There was this invisible ceiling that I could not break through. At times I think it’s silly to care this much about a childrens’ party game. Still, this is something I care about deeply and feeling like what I do doesn’t matter does hurt on a level which is hard to describe to those who haven’t felt similarly.

So is that it? Is the conclusion that some people just don’t have ‘it’? Some illusive quality which determines whether you can achieve your dreams or not.

A few weeks ago I came upon this excellent video essay by the YouTuber ‘snow’ on mediocrity. I highly recommend you give it a watch as it’s only 15 minutes long. She examines the emotions and experience of mediocrity and how the expectations you place on yourself can severely damage you as a person if you choose them as the lens you view the world through. She also talks about this illusive something that some people may have and others may not. While these topics are discussed through the perspective of creating art, the ideas deeply resonated with me through my relationship with competition.

In the Melee community, you very often get told that getting ranked in the top 100 is not that hard if you just put in some work. You get told you simply need to improve your methods, do some analysis and it’ll work out. The people who tell you that are mostly the ones who already are top 100, top 50, top 20, etc. It is not difficult to see that there may be some amount of survivorship bias involved.

So why even try if you may not have ‘it’? For me, this circles back to this idea of the ‘perfect competitor’ and how it has changed over the last couple of years of struggling with these doubts. What I consider to be the perfect competitor now, is not someone who necessarily performs very well. It is not someone who needs to improve very quickly. It is not someone who has to leave a legacy.

The ‘perfect competitor’ is someone who competes for the sake of competing. Someone dedicated to the process, not the result. For the result may never come and for many it won’t. Someone who keeps showing up and trying their best, simply for its own sake. This doesn’t mean letting go of your work meaning something. Rather that the meaning is contained in the pursuit itself.

I may never reach my goals in Melee, but trying to has led to some of the most meaningful experiences in my life and introduced me to friendships that will last a lifetime. I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.