I’ve been accused of it regarding every single sports team in the Burgh except for the Bitch Doctors.
I’m sure at some point you’ve been accused of it.
I’ve accused my mother of it.
The bandwagon jumper finger-wagging. The fair-weather fan accusations.
As we enter into game six tonight, it’s time. It’s time for this “nyah-nyahnyah” divisive foolishness to be put away.
Let’s start with the Buccos of Suckitude. That’s right. The BUCCOS OF SUCKITUDE who are in the midst of their — what is it 15th, 18th, 652nd losing year? Because I dare to call the coaches, the players, the owners, the management out on their very evident suckiness, because I regularly shout in their faces the exact magnitude of their suckiness as it currently registers on the Suck-O-Meter, because I don’t fall at their feet just because they are wearing the uniform that once rested on the shoulders of Roberto Clemente, well, I’m a fairweather fan that will become a bandwagon jumper if ever they start winning.
Because I’m straight with them, does that mean I don’t want them to win? Does that mean I don’t still watch their games? Does that mean I don’t still give a fist pump and a quiet YES! when they win? Does that mean I didn’t watch the game last night right up until it was over, hoping they could pull two runs out of their sucking asses?
I’m still a fan. I still want their success. But I’m not going to support them when they’ve sucked this long. I’m not paying to go see their games. I’m not writing post after post about how awesome they are. I’m not rushing out to buy a Drabek jersey (what?!?!).
It seems to me that in nowhere but sports is it considered an honorable thing to “stand by your sucking man” so to speak. In real life, we never find ourselves proudly saying:
“You know, my husband, he regularly beats the shit out of me and calls me a lard ass, but I’m a big fan.”
“My girlfriend, she’s a drug addict and yesterday she emptied out my bank account to buy drugs, but I’m proud to say that I don’t think any less of her!”
“My son. He failed every single class this semester, but gosh, I’m real proud to see how hard he’s trying. Tonight, I think I’ll take him to Dave and Buster’s for some FUN!”
No! We look at our husband and we say, I love you but I can’t be with you right now until you fix yourself. We look at our girlfriend and say, I still care about you, but you need to go away. We look at our son and say, WTF?!? Hit the damn books!
But in sports, we thump our chests and holler, “I’ve loved the Buccos since I was in my mother’s womb finger- spelling ‘Let’s go Bucs’ to the ultrasound technician. I’ve worn this exact Penguins jersey for ten straight years and I even bathe in it. Hell, I got MARRIED in it. You! You only buy Penguins tickets when they’re winning. YOU SUCK! I RULE!”
Who cares? I love David Conrad and I might be his number one fan. But if David Conrad wins an Oscar and suddenly acquires thousands of new fans that will someday walk away from him if he hit rock bottom, I’m still going to be thrilled that more people are recognizing the awesomeness of David Conrad, even if just for a while.
As for the Penguins and their recent success. The die-hard fans seem to think they’re better than the casual fans.
I don’t care if you watched the entire Game 5 and didn’t turn away from the TV once. I don’t care if you couldn’t watch because it was stressful. I don’t care if you watched the second period and then went to bed because you were tired. I don’t care if you were the last person to leave the Igloo and then you went to meet the team when they arrived home from Detroit. I don’t care if you were walking out of the Igloo when Max scored that tying goal because you were disappointed or were trying to beat the traffic rush. It makes no difference.
We’re all fans, some of us to greater degrees than others, but we’re all still fans.
Yes, if the Buccos ever start winning again, I’m going to STILL be a fan and I’m going to cheer them publicly and I’m going to write lots of great posts about them and maybe even self-unite to a few of them. There is no bandwagon that I’ve fallen off of. I’m still on it. I’m just sitting in the back with my legs hanging over the side, watching the scenery and wondering if it’s ever going to get interesting again.