The Innate Fire: Why You Can't 'Extract' Competitiveness from Athletes

You know, it’s a funny thing, this constant talk about "competitiveness" in professional sports. We hear it all the time from coaches, from general managers, from pundits — the need to instill it, to develop it, to, dare I say, "extract" it from players. But honestly, that last bit, "extracting" competitiveness? That’s where the whole notion goes a bit sideways for me, especially when we’re talking about elite athletes.

Because here's the simple, unvarnished truth: you simply cannot extract competitiveness from a player. It’s not some hidden gem tucked away deep inside them, waiting for the right drill or the perfect motivational speech to bring it bubbling to the surface. Oh no, not at all. True competitiveness, the kind that separates the good from the truly great, isn’t something you pull out; it’s something that’s already profoundly embedded. It's either there, deep in their bones, in their very approach to the game, or it isn’t.

Think about it for a moment. This isn't just about showing up for a big game or throwing a check when the pressure's on. Real, innate competitiveness shines through in the mundane, in the everyday grind. It's the player who battles relentlessly for a puck in practice, even when it "doesn't count." It's the one who gets angry with themselves after a mistake, not just shrugs it off. It's the insatiable hunger to be better, to win every single small engagement, whether it's a board battle, a foot race, or a one-on-one drill. That kind of drive, that internal fire, it’s not something you teach or force; it’s a part of who they are, woven into their very DNA from a young age.

So, when we hear talk, perhaps from within organizations like the Red Wings, about trying to "extract" this quality, it frankly makes me scratch my head a little. It suggests a fundamental misunderstanding of what makes an athlete truly competitive. You can teach systems, you can refine skills, you can even improve physical conditioning, but you cannot, for the life of you, inject a competitive spirit that isn't inherently present. Trying to do so is a bit like trying to teach a cat to enjoy swimming – you might get them in the water, but they're never going to truly embrace it or excel at it.

And that, right there, is the crux of the matter. Instead of trying to somehow conjure this elusive trait, the focus, the real focus for any successful hockey organization, ought to be on identifying players who already arrive with that fire blazing. It’s about scouting properly, looking beyond raw talent to see the full package: the kid who hates to lose, who pushes themselves beyond limits, who carries that quiet, relentless intensity in their eyes. You spot it in their play, sure, but you also see it in their demeanor, in their interactions, in how they react to adversity.

Because ultimately, what this boils down to is a crucial distinction: are you looking for players who need to be made competitive, or are you seeking out those who simply are competitive? The difference, my friends, is absolutely monumental. The truly great athletes, the ones who elevate teams and drive success, don't need their competitiveness extracted. They bring it with them, every single day, in every single stride. It’s their default setting, their core operating system. And frankly, any organization that fails to recognize that is probably setting itself up for a good deal of frustration down the road.