He stood, literally, on top of the world: Everest. The highest mountain on earth.

“Another few weary steps and there was nothing above us but the sky,” Sir Edmund Hillary wrote of that moment in 1953 when he and guide Tenzing Norgay became the first to the zenith.

Harder to put into words was what it meant to be first, foremost - on that day the best among mankind. The New Zealander spoke of confused emotions: “awe, wonder, humility, pride, exaltation.”

Gen. Chuck Yeager uses words like “duty” and “luck,” even, to recall the morning, the desert and the little X-1 rocket plane in which he hurtled past the sound barrier - Mach .88, then .96 and finally - that BOOM! - 1.06.

“A poke through Jell-0,” he shrugged. “Right place, right time,” he said in an interview last week with The Associated Press.

Understatements for what it means to be the Superman of your day.

Now, a Superman in a Speedo has redefined Greatness. And in this case - as with Hillary, as with Yeager, as with all who comprise this fraternity of uber-overachievers - isn't the capital G a must?

“It's time to be the best ever,” a friend texted our new hero before he became just that.

Winningest Olympian.

Not just the best.

But The Best.

Ever.

Welcome to the fraternity, Michael Phelps. Hardly any of us will ever know the secret handshake, what it's like to link that “-est” to our names: Strong-est, fast-est, rich-est, smart-est.