Occasionally in competitive things, one team or individual will be so dominant, luck really didn't matter. Tiger at the 2000 U.S. Open (and several other events). Most of John Wooden's title teams. The 1990 UNLV hoops team.

But in the overwhelming majority of competitive thing, the winner or the champion got needed breaks along the way. There is no eureka here, no "a ha!" moment. The difference between winning and losing is very, very small. Often it comes down to randomness, variance.

Take last year's Chiefs team. Fun team. Andy Reid is well-respected, Patrick Mahomes justly adored. A well-received title. Well, they still got plenty of key breaks.

Into week 17, the Chiefs are staring at a likely No. 3 seed - no bye, and likely going on the road in the playoffs, eventually. But then the 17-point underdog Dolphins stun the Patriots. Later, Baltimore loses to Tennessee. All of a sudden, the AFC title runs through KC.

Maybe the Chiefs would have beaten anyone, anywhere. It's possible. There's no need to stay up at night thinking about this. They beat who was in front of them. Plan a parade, print the DVD, give out the hats. Celebrate.

You can do this with the overwhelming majority of champions, in anything. I remember a Boston University overtime hockey shot in the NCAA Final *hitting both posts* and caroming out. Northern Michigan later scores, wins it all. Margins are tiny. Accept this as reality.

The Broncos won back to back titles in 1997-98. But what if Kordell Stewart doesn't gift them the AFCCG in 1997? What if the Vikings don't miss a kick in 1998 and represent the NFC, not the Falcons? We can play this game all day, with everyone.

What if Ben Roethlisberger doesn't make a great tackle after the Jerome Bettis fumble against the Colts? What if the Soviet Union didn't pull its world-class goalie after the first period in 1980? What if Jeramy Giambi felt like sliding? You can play this game forever.

Sometimes it's fun to track down the what-ifs and sliding-door moments of sports and of life. But if you spend your life trying to point out that some decorated champion in something is really just a lucky fraud, I think you're bombastically missing the point.

I'll add that my late friend, the most awesome and iconoclastic Steve Moyer, was not a fan of playoffs. He thought a long regular-season test should matter, and certainly not be usurped by a short-run tournament. I hear you, buddy. I hear you. And I miss you, man.