Clipperton's suicide (pp. 430–431)
Clipperton must have been just broke out in brass and plastic, but he had no official ranking whatsoever: since his Glock 9 mm. and public intentions were instantly legendary, he was regarded by the U.S.T.A. as never having had a legitimate victory, or even a legit match, in sanctioned play. People on the jr. tour sometimes asked tiny Mario if that’s why Eric Clipperton always seemed so terrifically glum and withdrawn and made such a big deal out of materializing and dematerializing at tournaments, that the very tactic that let him win in the first place kept the wins, and in a way Clipperton himself, from being treated as real.
Context
The legend's endgame opens on the paradox: a mantel full of trophies (territory — matches actually played and won) and no ranking at all (map — the official record where none of it happened). What the map declines to represent isn't merely unrecorded, it's unreal, "and in a way Clipperton himself" with it: a person's existence contingent on his cartographic entry.