Being a Fan
It was November 26th 1989, my first live football game. The Atlanta Falcons were taking on the New York Jets at Giant’s stadium. I was 11 years old. A friend of my father’s had a son that played for the Falcons, Jamie Dukes. They invited us down for the game since it was relatively close to my hometown. Before the game we all had breakfast together. Jamie invited a teammate of his, a rookie cornerback named Deion Sanders, to join us. The game was forgettable. The Falcons got pounded, which was par for the course that year. But it didn’t matter, I was hooked.
For the non-sports fan, the level of emotional investment fans have may seem like an elaborate ponzi scheme. Fans pour money into t-shirts, jerseys, hats, tickets etc. When the dream is realized, when your team lifts that Lombardi trophy and are declared champions, the fan gets……nothing. No endorsement deals. No free trophy replica. No personal phone call from the players. Nothing. We’re not blind to the arrangement. We enter it willingly. To the uninitiated it’s the sort of hero-worshiping you’re supposed to shed when you’re 11 years old. Ironically this is when initiation is most successful.
Fandom is tribalism. Tribalism is at the epicenter of the human condition. We dress it up with constructs as sweeping as culture and language and as mundane as logos and greek letters. We strive to belong to something and we reflexively otherize people not of our tribe. Look at race, religion or politics.
But that’s the beauty of sports. The otherization floats on an undercurrent of respect and admiration. That otherization fuels the gameday fire, but extinguishes itself when a player lays motionless on the field. That otherization stirs the passion that leads to pre-game trash talk, but ends in a handshake in the middle of the field. That otherization causes friendly jabs from the guy in a Green Bay jersey in front of you at the store, but ends in a “good luck today” as you part ways.
In today’s political and social climate, sports are not just an escape, but a blueprint for how to handle our most human of urges. Otherization in sports has rules, but those rules end in respect for each other and respect for the game. I read the lovefest between these two teams and think how much it differs from our political discourse. If the rules of behavior for politicans changed, so would the rules for its fans.
Fandom is forged in the furnace of tribalism. As time passes it hardens. Eventually, it won’t bend, it won’t break. A bad season may dull it, but a good season will sharpen it. You don’t choose to become a fan. Through life and circumstance, it just happens. By the time you realize you’re sad on Mondays after a loss, it’s too late. You’re hooked.
Best of luck to the Patriots. Even more luck to the Falcons. Win or lose, I’ll be with the tribe next year…and the year after that…and the year after. I don’t have a choice. I’m a fan. #RiseUp
