After being ubiquitous in the media, Quebec hockey player Guy Lafleur, who died on April 22, is entitled to a national funeral on May 3. He is not the first athlete to be promoted to the status of a goddess, but he could be the last if we are to believe Antoine Ropitel in Montreal Magazine “It marks the end of the hockey era. Before obsessed fitness robot players.”
Many other commentators have given us the understanding that Jay LaFleur preferred to follow his instincts, nature and nature rather than follow the instructions of his coaches.
This fact, as trite as it may sound, contains a deep intuition. Gabor Sebrigi, the Canadian sports philosopher who participated in the water polo events at the Montreal Games in 1976, will help explain this. His dual status gives his reflections on the sport a unique originality that can be seen through reading body intelligenceIt is a book published in 2014 (PUL).
The robotic body is the body that is perceived and experienced as a machine, a tool in the service of a will separate from it and controlled remotely by a team of experts. The goal is measurable performance, not that graceful achievement in surrender that Csepregi talks about so well. The intelligence of the body, according to him, is not what is applied to it from the outside, but rather what quenches its muscles, which is confirmed by many neurologists who refuse to limit intelligence to the brain. Thus, we move away from Plato’s dualism and push to its limit the essential union between the soul and the body dear to Aristotle.
Csepregi sees that not only complete control of the body through the will is impossible, but also that the highest moments in the sport are reached by surrender. What is a tennis player, whatever his amateurs, who has not noticed that when he leaves him he makes his best exchange? Then he understands that the subconscious often does things better than the conscience.
These, says Csepregi, are those moments that the audience appreciates most. The athlete, with the support of his coach, tries to gain complete control over his body, but he always faces a limit: as if life always ends with resistance to the will. Ironically, when he loses control of his body, or gives up, the athlete experiences his most wonderful moment. Then he abandons himself to his independent body, to his spontaneity, to his creativity. Then the living body, the living body, takes over the body of the machine, but only for a certain moment, a moment of bliss when “the athlete goes to do what he cannot do.”
Is going further, then, actually giving up? Yes, Csepregi answers, and this happens in all sports, whether individual sports or team sports.
This position is not a theory reserved for specialists in sports philosophy and psychology. It touches all aspects of human life, distinguishing the difference between life and performance. Everything in today’s world, from the exhaustion of children, encourages us to work rather than live, to the point where we are entitled to say that philosophizing is the thought of sports.
In order to philosophize in this way, many fans of Guy Lafleur were invited at this time. What they like first, perhaps without always knowing it, is a marvel of nature rather than a product made by technology, a dimension confined to the background. For the Greek poet Pindar, a commentator on the first games, the marvel in question was a sacred thing. For any man today, she is a grateful gift. Is this not the deepest reason, if not the first reason for the overflowing enthusiasm of the people of Quebec towards Guy Lafleur?
A good hockey player, like Bon Vivant, is one who seizes opportunities well. There is a Greek god who personifies this whole: Kairos. He is often depicted as a young man with a thick tuft of hair in the front and a bald head in the back; It was a matter of “grabbing him by the hair” when he passed…always fast. Jay LaFleur, “The Blond Comet, Man in the Wind” sounds.