There are more than a few examples of unequal potential in "The Sports Gene." The author includes lots of footnotes and references if you want to pursue it further.
The inequality factor is most evident in predominantly physical sports like track and field and basketball and baseball, but I think it is also present in cue sports.
John, I really think you need to read the book before continuing this discussion.
Bob, this sounds like an interesting book, and I'll order it after posting this.
I want to share something that, although I'm at a disadvantage in not knowing what caused it (due to not having read the book yet), may show that the "purely nature" may be bunk.
When I was in the Navy (mid-1980s), as with most sailors, you find something to do with your spare time (i.e. when not on actual watch / duty). When out to sea on a ship, it's not like you can hop in your car and go somewhere when you're not on duty -- you're
stuck there on the ship, and you have to find something to do. Many sailors go to the fitness room and hit the weights; becoming quite buff after the deployment is over. Others choose to read, or play cards, or make potato shine in one of the ship's voids
, etc.
Others, like me, pick up an instrument, and often -- almost every Navy ship -- has at least a couple bands aboard. I chose the bass guitar, because when listening to a song, it was either the drums or the bass line that I found find myself tapping or humming to.
The problem was, I was the classic white boy with no "self-sustaining" rhythm. While I could tap out an easy 4/4 time in cadence with the song playing, as soon as you stopped the song, I'd lose the timing. I couldn't hold it, and would drift in classic "white boy with two left feet" fashion.
Needless to say, I had a very difficult time with the bass guitar for the first 6 months. And I'm talking playing *every* day! Studying, practicing, studying, practicing, etc. I must've ordered (through the ship's book order system) every available book on the bass guitar as well as books on drumming, etc. And these books ended up all dog-eared with folded pages (bookmarks), etc.
After about 7 months, something just happened. I don't know, I woke up one day, and I had this metronome in my head, that I could adjust at will for whatever song I needed to play. Suddenly, this "soulless white boy with two left feet" "heard" the rhythm in his head and felt in his heart; and most importantly, was able to connect his fingers (that were on the strings of the bass) to that rhythm he heard. Not only could I lock-in on the downbeat even when the song was not playing, but also suddenly, I "got" syncopation. I can't tell you how rewarding it is when you can suddenly "feel" syncopation, and not feel like you have to play on the downbeat every single time. I could weave bass lines in, out, and *through* the rhythm. It was a euphoric feeling.
All at once, musicians aboard the two ships I was stationed aboard (the USS Briscoe [DD-977] and the USS Coontz [DDG-40]) asked me "what was I on" (meaning, elicit drugs) because they couldn't recognize this "musical klutz" suddenly was flowing out bass lines from Chris Squire (of Yes), Geddy Lee (of Rush), Ralphe Armstrong (of Jean-luc Ponty), and Marcus Miller (Marcus' finger-style stuff, anyway -- didn't like, and still don't, the slap bass style). I became the best bass guitarist not only onboard ship, but in the D&S (destroyers & submarines) squadron, and for all I know, maybe even the whole Norfolk Naval Station. In fact, there was a rock club just outside Norfolk Naval Station known as "On Stage" that pulled in name bands that people would go to see. My band was one of the few "all sailor" bands to play in there. Got quite a few invites to play for a few of the civilian bands that played there, too, but obviously I could not do that because of needing to be on call 24/7.
When I left the Navy in 1990 (two terms served), I played with a couple bands semi-professionally (meaning, I still held down a full-time career in I.T.), and played at a couple venues in NYC -- e.g. the China Club,
L'Amour, and others. I graduated from 4-string to 5-string bass (still have my Rickenbacker 4003s 5-string), and graduated to 6-string (Ibanez SDGR-800, back when they were still made in Japan, and not Korea). The greatest compliment I ever got, was by the legendary
Richie Havens, who many may not know was also a talented drafter, and worked at the NYC Housing Authority as a consultant. NYCHA was one of my customers when I worked at Intergraph Corp. (who supplied all the CAD workstations, software, and consulting to NYCHA). One day, Richie caught wind of my playing on a demo tape that one of my colleagues had. Richie came over to me, and started rubbing vigorously on the back of my hand, when I was using the computer mouse. I asked him what in the h*ll he was doing, and he said he was trying to rub "the makeup off." I replied with a very confused, "Wha...?!?", and he told me he heard my demo tape, and said that he heard, doesn't match at all what he sees. With that deep baritone, Richies says, "You got
soul, my man!" I will take that to my grave as the greatest compliment ever paid me by a fellow musician.
Quite a transformation when I look back. But -- keep this in mind -- I had to work my
bloody ass off for it! Every single day, for hours at a time. Until finally, something snapped.
Did I have this in my blood? I'm not sure, when you look at the fact I had to teach myself to keep basic time all by myself. Was it nature? I don't think so, because it took so damn long, with so much hard work. Whatever it was, I'm thankful it happened.
It'll be interesting to get the book. I'm looking forward!
-Sean
)
If you got me to beating the 9 ball ghost, or running 100 in straight pool (my personal definition of an A player), then there is hope for anyone
