This wagon fits all
I am the worst sports fan.
When it comes to baseball, I’m what’s commonly referred to as a bandwagon fan. It happened in 2010. While living on the West Coast, I began watching the San Francisco Giants. By the time they clinched their division, I was already headover-heels in love, completely divorced from my hometown Toronto Blue Jays. That the Giants went on to win the World Series that year (and two more times since) was just ticker tape in my parade.
For basketball, I’m an even worse species: the fairweather fan. I watch maybe six Toronto Raptors quarters a season until the playoffs start, and then I become an expert devoted to the team. Watching a postseason game, I’m a sight to behold: living and dying with every possession; telling the offence (through the television) to slow down on transition; openly criticizing Dwane Casey’s rotations.
I had to remind myself of my track record earlier this week when Toronto FC played the Montreal Impact in the second leg of the MLS Cup semi-final. Seemingly overnight, the city of Toronto went from oblivious to rabid supporters, persuaded by TFC’s victory in extra time over their rivals from Quebec.
That kind of bandwagon jumping leaves a bad taste in the mouths of fans. And that’s understandable. Sports fandom is based on a vicarious experience. Yes, it’s Benoit Cheyrou scoring the goal on the pitch, but it’s also every fan watching, putting themselves in the athlete’s place and living that moment. For those who have cheered through the lean years, living that moment has come at a higher cost than the johnny-come-lately wondering why TFC didn’t pull their goalie in the 89th minute.
Of course, it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, and if someone can gain an ounce of joy in this cruel world from a bunch of athletes wearing their town’s laundry, who are any of us to begrudge them.
The very best a bandwagoner or fairweather fan can do is be aware that there are many among them who have travelled a more difficult path to get there. Cheer hard when your team scores, wins and raises the trophy, but maybe don’t cheer quite as hard as the person next to you who’s been there since the beginning. This moment belongs a little more to them than it does you.
Oh, and don’t ever wear the championship gear. You won’t offend anyone with it. It’s just super tacky.