I Was Born Champion captures a paradox in a single, striking form: a baby posed like a victorious fighter, arms raised in oversized boxing gloves, chest set with absolute certainty. The figure reads like pure adrenaline—instinct before language, confidence before doubt. It’s both playful and confrontational: an icon of raw belief in oneself, frozen at the very beginning of life.
But the work’s power is its question. Is greatness something we arrive with—or something the world demands we earn? The infant champion embodies the fantasy of being “ready” from day one, born fearless, built to win. Yet that same image hints at expectation: the pressure to perform, to compete, to prove worth early and endlessly. In this tension, the sculpture becomes a mirror for ambition itself—celebrating inner fire while asking what shapes it: nature, nurture, or the fights we’re taught to seek.
Ultimately, I Was Born Champion doesn’t settle the debate. It turns it into a stance: triumph as origin, struggle as inheritance, and confidence as the first myth we learn to live by.
