It's kind of ironic that the two sports with the greatest

The words of Dick Schaap are a lament for the fading of greatness: “It’s kind of ironic that the two sports with the greatest characters, boxing and horse racing, have both been on the decline. In both cases it’s for the lack of a suitable hero.” His reflection is not merely about games or contests, but about the spirit of mankind’s need for champions — for figures who embody courage, artistry, and nobility in a way that inspires whole generations. Without such figures, even the grandest arenas grow silent, for it is not the sport itself, but the hero, that awakens the people’s hearts.

In the ancient world, this truth was known to all. The Olympic Games of Greece were not cherished for running or wrestling alone, but for the heroes who rose within them, men like Milo of Croton, whose strength became the stuff of legend. The contests were vessels; the heroes were the flame. And so it is with boxing and horse racing, sports whose histories are woven with names that stirred nations. Without the glow of such characters, these arenas become shadows of themselves, like temples where the gods have departed.

Consider boxing in the time of Muhammad Ali. He was more than a fighter — he was a poet, a rebel, a voice of conscience and pride. His matches were not only contests of fists, but battles of spirit, watched by the world as though destiny itself hung upon them. In his era, boxing was alive, for the hero stood in the ring. And yet, when figures of such depth are absent, the sport becomes merely the striking of blows, no longer the theater of myth.

So too with horse racing, once called the “Sport of Kings.” The names of horses — Secretariat, Seabiscuit, Man o’ War — were not merely animals but symbols of endurance, speed, and glory. Their stories drew multitudes, for people saw in them the embodiment of hope, triumph against odds, and beauty in motion. When Seabiscuit, the small and underestimated horse, defeated champions in the depths of the Great Depression, he gave a weary nation courage. This was more than racing; it was the rise of a hero, and through him, the lifting of a people’s spirit.

Schaap’s words remind us that without heroes, human endeavors lose their light. The same principle is true beyond sport. In politics, without leaders of vision, the halls of government grow cold. In art, without creators who embody both struggle and genius, the canvas and the stage seem hollow. It is always the living example — the character — that transforms an act into a legacy, a contest into a saga.

The teaching here is clear: do not underestimate the power of a single figure to uplift a multitude. The world is hungry for heroes, not perfect beings, but individuals who reveal courage, charisma, and character in ways that awaken faith in what humanity can achieve. When such figures arise, they give meaning to the struggles we all endure, for they remind us of what is possible.

Thus, the lesson for us is this: in whatever field you walk, whether humble or grand, strive to be the hero that others may look toward. Carry yourself with integrity, courage, and passion, and your actions will echo far beyond your own life. Sports, nations, and generations alike depend not merely on rules or structures, but on the fire of individuals who give them life.

And so, Schaap’s words stand as both lament and summons. Lament for the fading of boxing and horse racing without their champions, and summons for us all to remember that in every age, it is the hero who gives breath to the spirit of a people. Let us, then, not only wait for heroes, but dare to become them.