Made Of Win!

It's common these days, when faced with something spectacularly awesome to refer to the said item as "for the win", or even "made of win". But what exactly is "Win"? I was determined to find out, and set out...Bunsen burner in hand...to discover the chemical formula for Win.

My basic knowledge at the start was this:

• "Win" is a good thing, embodying positive qualities
• "Win" is diametrically opposed to "Fail"
• In strong concentrations, both "Win" and "Fail" may achieve the qualifier "Epic"

Engaging in Internet discussions with various people, I discovered that things that contained large amounts of win fell into four different categories:

• Something that was well executed and contained lots of action/excitement (eg, "The Lord of the Rings movies are made of win!")
• Heavy metal that everyone was concerned was going to be shit, but actually turned out to be quite good. (eg, "Dude! Death Magnetic for the win!")
• Things/people that were old, but still sticking to their roots without selling out (eg. "Neil Peart is totally made of fucking win!")
• Proteiny snacks ("Pepperami for the win!")

My first task was to determine what common factor all of these shared. At first glance, they may appear to be quite disparate, and the fact is...they are.

Going on the discoveries above, my basic formula for Win was as follows:

excitement/adventure + satisfaction + pride + protein = Win

Based on this, I theorised that it was entirely possible to manufacture Win from the following:

Indiana Jones DVD Boxset + Cuban Cigar + E14's hit count last month + roast chicken = Win

Unfortunately, after destroying my Indiana Jones box set, an 8" Romeo Y Julieta and my dinner for tomorrow, I realised that one of my ingredients was an abstract concept, and therefore rather hard to get into beaker.

A re-think, led me to reconsider my original argument. Perhaps I was barking up entirely the wrong tree, and it would be better for me to cast my net a little wider. Was it possible that Win could actually be a naturally occurring substance in its elemental form? What if there were a physical embodiment of Win? A person who dealt in action and excitement? Someone who you felt good about? An older person who had stuck to their roots? Who consumed a protein heavy diet? Only one name sprang to mind!


I picked up the phone and contacted Ronnie James Dio's agent, who put me through to the lead singer of such bands as Elf and Rainbow. "Hello? Mr Dio?"

"Yes, speaking." he answered.

"We've never met before but I'm a big fan of your work. That bit on Holy Diver where you sing "Ride the tiger! You can see his stripes but you know he's clean! Ooooh, don't you see what I mean!"...I totally get what you mean!"

"Well, that's very kind of you." replied the totally awesome singer whom is wasted on everyone that thinks "Ozzy Rules!". "What can I help you with?"

"Well, I'm conducting a secret experiment...I'm trying to find out what the chemical compound is for Win."

Dio's voice became excited. "And you want to compare notes?"

"What?" I asked.

"I've been working on the chemical compound for Win for about eighteen months now. I think I almost have it, too!"

"Wait," I said, left standing in his mental dust for a second. "You're saying that you've been working on the chemical equation for Win?"

"Yes, Brad, I have. And let me tell you, it's a thankless task. I've got it down to excitement...a sense of satisfaction in the quality...a respect for the older generation keeping it going...and protein heavy snacks."

"Yes, but...Ronnie Jay? I think I may have made a breakthrough!"

"Seriously?" he enthused, some spittle travelling down the phone-line into my ear. "Please, share it!"

"Well, Mr Dio, have you considered the possibility that you may be the living embodiment of Win?"

There was a pause, then a sigh from the best singer in the world this side of Fabio Lione. "Yes, Brad...the thought has occured to me in the past. God knows that I've sung enough stories of high action and adventure to make Rhapsody of Fire piss their pants. I like to think that my work as always been of at least a satisfactory quality. I've always tried to stick to my roots. But, unfortunately, it's on the last hurdle that I fail."

I was stunned. "You don't mean?"

"Yes, Brad. I just don't get enough protein in my diet. The fact is, I'm afraid I'm a scrawny fucker."

"Shit!" I yelled, slamming the phone down.

So, ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid that I have to admit defeat. Unless there's a band somewhere that sings about riding into battle, has continued to make good hard rock, and has stuck to their roots whilst combining it with a protein heavy diet and a weightlifting routine, then I'm afraid the mystery of Personified Win will have to remain unsolved.