Grit, Guts, & Glorious Winners

I grew up in a state without any pro teams. The best we had was a short lived arena league football team and a AAA baseball affiliate.  I was left a sports orphan.  I grew up with no one to root for.

However, it is near impossible to watch and enjoy sports without picking a side.  When you have no one to root for, you pick someone to root against. Who you hate. That is how I have enjoyed a large amount of sporting events. Hate. Fuck Duke, fuck the Yankees,  fuck the Red SAWX and the Cubbies.  Fuck the Packers.  And fuck the Patriots.

I couldn’t have cared less about who won the Super Bowl last year, yet I was transformed into as big a  Giants fan as anyone.  Yes, that was almost entirely because one of my roommates is from Bawston. I couldn’t bear the thought of the impending Brady media-serviced rim-jobathon. Does that mean I enjoyed the victory any less? I don’t think so.  It was a great game, and, because I had a rooting interest, I was able to maximize my enjoyment.

Think of me as a sports pragmatist.  If you are strictly a lover, you can only enjoy the games that your team plays in. Maybe only the times that they win.  But as a hater, I can enjoy a greater variety of games.  Be it Notre Dame getting smacked around or Brett Favre throwing up yet another JV-style interception, I will be there, getting my twisted rocks off.

Don’t think that I am entirely devoid of team allegiance, dear reader.  I am deeply devoted to my Alma Matter and The Brew Crew.  My hate doesn’t consume my sports enjoyment, it just adds a little spice.  And really, who among us doesn’t like seeing Brady get smacked around a little bit?