Mediocrity

The traditional formulation of the Copernican mediocrity principle is usually played out in the following way: Ancients of the Middle East and west once thought that the Earth was at the center of the universe, but Copernicus proposed that the Sun was at the center. This heliocentric view was confirmed a hundred years later by Galileo, who demonstrated with a telescope that Jupiter's moons orbited Jupiter and that Venus must orbit the Sun. In the 1930s, RJ Trumpler found that the solar system was not at the center of the Milky Way Galaxy (as Jacobus Kapteyn claimed), but 56% of the way out to the rim of the galaxy's core. In the mid-twentieth century, George Gamow (et al.) showed that although it appears that our Galaxy is at the center of an expanding universe (in accordance with Hubble's law), every point in space experiences the same phenomenon. And, at the end of the twentieth century, Geoff Marcy and colleagues discovered that extrasolar planets are quite common, putting to rest the idea that the Sun is unusual in having planets. In short, Copernican mediocrity is a series of astronomical findings that the Earth is a relatively ordinary planet orbiting a relatively ordinary star in a relatively ordinary galaxy which is one of countless others in a giant universe, possibly within an infinite multiverse. (Source: wikipedia)

As a way of life, I despise mediocrity. I always try to strive to be the best at what I do. More accurately, I set a standard for myself which is always above the average. That way of thinking is what led me away from the sport of basketball. As a child, I loved the game. I even had an authentic green laminated Boston Celtics poster proudly displayed on a wall in my (well, mine and my brother's) room. I played varsity ball for elementary school. I thought I was really good. I scored an average of 8-12 points a game and had about the same number of assists as an off-guard. On my first year of high school, my hoop dreams were shattered. I transferred back to the University of Santo Tomas (I started elementary school there, but transferred to Bulacan). I was 12 years old and had classmates as tall as PBA players. All the kids who played basketball were at least 5'8" on their freshmen year. A couple were as big as 6' tall. I got my fair share of hard bumps, sharp falls, and nasty basket rejections. That resulted to a whole lot of (kid) brawls for me. No one could make me look like a fool even as a kid without risking having my foot in his ass. I decided after 3 or 4 games (fights) with these kids that basketball, although I enjoyed the game very much, was not mine. I found out that basketball was not for everyone. That game is only for the tall. Don't get me wrong, I'm no pip-squeak, I'm about as tall as Robert Downey Jr., or George Clooney--just not basketball tall. (Maybe soon I'll post a blog entry about basketball and perhaps other sports)

When I was born, I was the center of the universe for my parents, my grand-parents, my uncles and aunts. I am the first-born son among my brothers, sisters and all first cousins. I was their Copernican sun. When my first-born son (or daughter) is born this November, he (or she) would be like me, first-born among all in his generation. He (or she) will become our Copernican sun. If drowning on the depths of mediocrity means having your own dreams made flesh, then I would love to be labeled mediocre. I can't wait to see my reflection at the sparkle of my baby's eyes.