I’m going to piss a lot of people off in this post.
Good. That means you have passion. That’s the power of sports.
I probably won’t make any sense and I may snap at the word “relax” but that’s the power of being a woman.
The timing of this post is perfect because I’m not on a sports high or a low. My emotions are in neutral. My teams are out. The only thing I can hope for is the Denver Broncos to trip up and lose (again) in the Super Bowl and for KU to break some kind major NCAA rule and thrown out of basketball forever.
I have a rage. I do. I’ll admit it. I would call the Devil himself to sit down with me to bargain how we can make K-State win a National Title, the Kansas City Chiefs win the Super Bowl and the Kansas City Royals win the World Ser – well, wait a minute here.
This is how all sports fans should be.
My rules of the game*
*Please refrain from throwing your plastic rats at me. These are my rules. I won’t call you out for breaking my rules. This is satire. Mostly.
You root for your birthplace professional team.
If you were born in Portland, Oregon, you root for the Seattle Seahawks. If you were born in Tennessee, you root for the Nashville Predators. If you were born in Chicago, congratulations! You get to choose between the White Sox and the ‘ole Cubbies. But you pick one – do not waiver. You were placed on earth in one spot. That spot determines your sports loyalties.
Exceptions: Take my husband, Scott – he was born in Wichita, Kansas but grew up in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. Under rule number 1, he should root for the Kansas City professional teams. But growing up, he rooted for Miami teams. This is called half-ass rooting. It’s acceptable to half-ass root for the city’s team you live in. Half-ass means no body paint allowed. A polite clap for a touchdown. And no trash talking because this is not where your loyalties are.
You root for the college you attended.
This should be a no-brainer. You root for the thousands of dollars you put into your education. Did you go to a small, private college that no one has heard of? Good. Root for them. They need your support. If your college doesn’t have collegiate sports then you should have picked another college. By all means – do not jump on Alabama’s bandwagon. Roll tiding my eyes out of my sockets. There is a certain pride that comes with rooting for your own college. You have a history. The university will follow you on your career journey. It becomes blood family.
Exceptions: Your spouse and children. If you didn’t attend college but your spouse/child did, rooting for your spouse or kid’s college is acceptable. If you attended a different college than your spouse/kid, you always root for your own college. It makes conversations at the dinner table much more entertaining. If you went to two or more colleges, you pick one – do not waiver.
Another exception: You didn’t go to college. You are not married and don’t have kids. You pick one – do not waiver.
How to handle rivals.
Never wear rival colors. Put it in your head that the rival colors are always out of style. Have you ever seen me wear anything orange? Gross. Have you ever seen me wear a red shirt with blue jeans? No. I don’t root for KU.
As psychotic as that sounds, I am still a nice person. I have family and friends that root for my rivals. And that’s fine. I love those individuals. I just don’t like their team and fan base as a whole. I love you Dan. I cherish your friendship – I just don’t like your Broncos.
How to handle the Ws.
Ah. Your team won a huge game. You are given 24 hours to celebrate big. Buy the bar a round. Jump on your bed in PJs. Wake up the kids. Shoot fireworks off in your driveway. Trash talk the other team. Turn on SportsTalk radio. Call in – go ahead. Gloat. You deserve it.
And then stop.
Anything more than 24 hours of excessive celebration is annoying. And you are walking a fine line into a territory called sports karma. Your team will lose the next game if you don’t get your act together.
Exception: When it’s not just a big game, when it’s a championship title – your excessive celebration is allowed to continue until the start of next season. And then stop. We get it. You’re in the history books.
How to handle the Ls
With the highs, come the lows. You take it. You make good on your bets.
You are allowed 24 hours of deep depression. Don’t talk to anyone. Snap at others. Don’t take a shower. Get your heart checked because you could have swore you suffered a mini heart attack last night. Vow to never watch sports again. Blame the refs. Often times, comfort can be found by talking with other fans in mourning. Sometimes your team will have losing streaks that last years. Don’t you dare give up – look at the Kansas City Royals and my impending death by the Devil.
There are two types of bandwagon fans.
Fan #1: Your team is out. There are two teams remaining. The nachos taste much better if you have a team to cheer for. What’s there to lose? This is fine to jump on a bandwagon. But only half-ass rooting.
Fan #2: Oh God. These people root for the winningest teams in all sports. They may be a North Carolina NCAA basketball fan and a Texas football fan and a New England Patriots fan and a New York Yankee baseball fan. This is not allowed. You will be written off by others as an asshole. There. I said it.
I know, I know – this is a free country. You can cheer for whoever you want. But speaking of free country, I don’t know anyone that was born in the United States that cheers for, oh I don’t know – Mexico in the Olympics because you grew up loving the thought of 80 degree winters.
You cheer where you hail from.
I realize Scott is probably right in saying I’m going to be burned at the stake for this post. Ha! Sports witchcraft. My cauldron.
Good. We have passion. And this is satire. Mostly.