The choice not to be mediocre
When we talk about leadership, people of a certain caliber, strong characters and, above all, capable of achieving great projects, come to mind.
And then there are the so-called "mediocres," a sort of pariah to be avoided and despised.
But is that really all there is to it?
Midfielders and scorers
In 1999, Luciano Ligabue - an Italian singer-songwriter - released one of his most famous and representative songs, "Una vita da mediano" ("Life as a midfielder"), which—drawing inspiration from the world of football—describes the lives of many who, despite giving their all, can at best aspire to be the shadow of those who eventually “score” in life.
In its own way, it’s a heartbreaking song, even though it’s brutally honest in the reality it portrays. It speaks with deep affection and respect about these "midfielders" who, no matter how hard they work without holding anything back, will never stand out, because they lack the talent—or perhaps even the temperament—to shine on their own. But they know they can at least contribute to the team’s victory by “serving” those who are able to make the difference.
Especially in the West, the myth of the winner is incredibly strong: the one who succeeds, who makes it, who learns to express their potential to reach extraordinary results and heights.
On one hand, there is a kind of worship toward these people; on the other, there is a certain ostentatious (and often fake) benevolence toward those who are less capable—benevolence that often hides a poorly disguised contempt.
So the question is: who is the real mediocre one?
The person who loses despite giving everything, or the one who never puts themselves to the test and is content to hop on the winner’s bandwagon?
How do you know you're giving your best?
I realize that, as a coach, I shouldn’t say something like this—it goes against all the principles that support this profession—but the harsh and simple truth is that not all of us are destined for greatness. Some are born to win, and some are born to stand beside the winner.
As crude as that may sound, it’s reality.
Maybe in another life, on another planet, where a different value system prevails, things would go differently.
The mediocre would be celebrated, and the winners would honor them for helping them reach their goals.
Here and now, however, obsessed as we are with results, we often fail to see the effort, sacrifice, dedication, and humility of those “mediocre” individuals who play a crucial role in the victories of others.
But then, when they’re no longer there, their absence is felt—and that is perhaps the only victory they can aspire to.
But is that enough to compensate for a life lived in someone else’s shadow?
That’s not the right question.
The right question is whether one has truly given their best—and you can never answer that question until you’re certain you have.
And how can you ever be certain?
Earlier I wrote, quite confidently, that not all of us are destined for success and everything that comes with it. But you can’t use that fact as an excuse to resign yourself to the idea that you can’t do more.
So there are two possible answers to the only two possibilities that exist.
The first possibility is that you are completely satisfied with the results you’ve achieved so far, even if they are mediocre (at least in your own eyes).
In truth, you’ll never really know whether you gave your all, but being able to contribute to someone else’s victory—and enjoy it!—is fulfilling. It makes you feel useful, without envy or resentment.
Deep down, you feel that what you’re doing is exactly what you were born to do, and you feel grateful for it.
The other possibility is that what you’ve done so far feels too small for you.
For some reason, you know you can do more; you feel you’re here for something more—and at that point, you push yourself.
It may work out or it may not, but if you know you gave your best, you will have achieved something you never would have otherwise.
And that is a victory.
In neither of the two cases above is there any real reason to feel mediocre or like a failure. Others may see you that way…
but to hell with them.
The words mediano (midfielder) and mediocre share the same root: medio, meaning “in the middle.”
In football, the midfielder (today replaced by the more elegant “central midfielder”) is such by virtue of the position they occupy on the field—it’s the role that “forces” them into that zone.
It’s not like that for the mediocre person in life. None of us has a predetermined position… or maybe we do, but since we don’t know, the only thing left is to find out.
The two choices
At that point, again, we can choose one of two paths:
The first is to “try,” to push ourselves a bit further until we take the first hits… and when that happens, we step back and reposition ourselves somewhere in the middle, just enough to feel safe.
It won’t be thrilling, but in the end, it won’t be that unpleasant either.
This is TRUE mediocrity: always choosing the most comfortable middle ground.
The other choice is to truly put ourselves to the test—and a couple of hits won’t be enough to make us give up.
However, if in the end we must surrender, it will be because life itself has pushed us back to the middle.
It may be painful, but we can make sense of it.
And we certainly won’t feel mediocre—and that is wonderful.
Coaching is not for the first group: those who choose mediocrity as a lifestyle will rarely want to leave it.
For the second group, however, being helped by someone who has already helped others overcome their limits can be a true revelation—and even if the only outcome were understanding how far they can go, that alone would be a great victory.
And if, on top of that, they discovered they could excel at something they had never even considered?
How valuable would that be?
And let’s remember that we are in this world to grow, not to succeed.
Of course, the two things can coincide, and it’s wonderful when they do—but more often than not, they don’t.
Success is measured by the results you achieve; growth is measured by how much more you discover about yourself, which in turn is measured by how effectively you learn to interact with the reality you operate in.
Ask yourself this…
In your current reality, if all the people you are competing with—or feel you must compete with—suddenly disappeared, what result of yours would you consider a “success”?
Conclusion
Mediocrity is not a status; it’s a feeling.
It’s not your income, your social position, your recognition, or the popularity you achieve that makes you mediocre or successful, but feeling—knowing—that your life has meaning, for you and for others.
And if you need fetishes to feel worthy, then TRUE mediocrity has already devoured you.
No one is born mediocre; one can only become so.
But before judging yourself based on the so‑called successes you achieve or don’t achieve, decide—in advance—what is so important TO YOU that it makes you choose one path over another?
Who do you owe that answer to?