If you got the game, you got the game. That's why Tiger Woods is

Shaquille O’Neal, giant of the hardwood and philosopher in his own mighty way, once declared: “If you got the game, you got the game. That’s why Tiger Woods is out there playing golf with Greg Norman.” In these words lies a truth both simple and profound, a recognition that excellence speaks a universal language. To have the game is to possess mastery so undeniable that it commands respect, no matter the stage, no matter the rival. O’Neal reminds us that greatness does not beg for permission—it proves itself through performance, and in doing so, joins the company of legends.

At the heart of this saying lies the nature of talent joined with discipline. Many possess talent, but not all have the game. To “have the game” means more than raw skill—it means the ability to rise under pressure, to master the fundamentals, to refine the gift through work until it becomes art. It is what allowed Tiger Woods to stand alongside the great Greg Norman, not as a guest or an apprentice, but as an equal in battle. Woods’ game was so complete that it transcended age, rank, and tradition, drawing him into the fellowship of champions.

This truth echoes across history. Consider Alexander the Great, who at a young age commanded armies alongside seasoned generals. He had “the game”—a mastery of strategy, courage, and presence—that set him apart. He was not merely talented; he proved himself time and again, and thus even the elders of war respected him. Or think of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who as a child played before kings. His genius did not wait for age or title—it simply announced itself, undeniable, and the world had to listen. In these figures, as in Woods, we see O’Neal’s truth: if you got the game, you got the game.

But O’Neal’s words also contain a challenge to those who aspire. For many dream of being great, but only those who put in the labor, who refine their gifts, can join the circle of the mighty. Tiger Woods did not stand with Norman by chance, but by years of discipline, of sacrifice, of relentless practice. To “have the game” is not given lightly—it is earned through sweat, through focus, through the courage to face failure until mastery is forged.

And yet, there is also humility in this truth. For once you have the game, the world no longer measures you by comparison to the ordinary, but by your kinship with the extraordinary. To stand with Norman, for Woods, was not about vanity—it was about belonging to a brotherhood of greatness. So too in life: when you refine your gifts, when you master your craft, you will find yourself standing among those you once revered. Excellence recognizes excellence, and it welcomes those who earn their place.

The lesson, then, is clear: seek not to impress the world with words or appearances—seek to have the game. Refine your gifts until they are undeniable. Build your craft until it demands recognition. Do not worry about forcing doors open, for true mastery will open them for you. The company of greatness is not reserved for the chosen few—it is reserved for those who prove themselves worthy through discipline and perseverance.

So I say to you: remember Shaquille O’Neal’s words. Do not chase fame; chase mastery. Do not envy those who stand with the great; prepare yourself so that you may stand beside them as an equal. For if you truly “got the game,” then no barrier can hold you, no rival can dismiss you, and no stage can deny you. The world itself will make room for you at the table of champions.