Those of you who grew up in New England and have resided here every glorious day of your life, probably have such a die hard love for your local sports, that you assume it’s the norm. That every youngster across America has sports posters adorning their bedroom, school photos which could double as a Nike advertisement, at least one- if not multiple- Halloween as your favorite player, and the urge from a young age to yell “You Suck!” at anyone supporting a rival. While this scenario is wildly common across the States, what’s not is that endearing love and spirit into adulthood.
In my twenty five years, I’ve ventured to live in three contrasting states and visited more than thirty. And I have yet to meet sports fans quite like Boston ones. Down in Alabama, NCAA football appears to be the only sport which ever existed, unless you consider who can deep fry the healthiest foods into the most heart attack inducing meals a sport. Former classmates at Auburn loved their Tigers…unless of course there was two inches of rain, in which case it was a terrible natural disaster and forced everyone to stay safely at home. When asked why they were fans, they didn’t spit out stats or key names. They said because their grandparents and/or parents went there. The suburban cul-de-sac leading to my parent’s new home in South Carolina is lined with alternating flags of U. of South Carolina and Clemson. Anyone heard of a little establishment called the Carolina Panthers? Maybe they can only watch college because Sundays are church days.
Out west, sports seem like something to do after work when there’s nothing else to do. Case in point- last year’s NBA Finals. Game six, about how many fans in the Garden were wearing green? I would estimate no fewer than 95 percent. Game seven- fans in yellow? About 50 percent. People looked like they had just wandered in, random t-shirts, work button downs with crisp collars. It appears their “fans” are big wigs that used the company seats to stop by and check out a little game going on. In Boston, teens were on Fox 25 News selling their car to afford tickets. Not to mention, the fans here don’t need to run out and buy the green shirt before the game- it’s what we wear on a regular basis.
When I lived in Arizona, all my female friends I made there called me a tom-boy for being so into sports. They didn’t understand that it’s just normal for Boston girls to be fans. They didn’t understand why I would spend my Sundays alone in a sports bar since my teams weren’t broadcast on local stations. When I would convince one to come with me, it would only take her one quarter until she was saying, “Oh, you actually, like, cheer for the team? And know the players? And don’t just come for the nachos?” Luckily, I made some middle aged Buffalo-born friends who would cheer with me, since their hopes and dreams were crushed weekly.
Boston fans plan accordingly around their teams. I am not making this up; I attended a bridal shower October 10th, the Patriots bye week. It was no coincidence- it was carefully planned months in advance. When I asked a friend to join me in a charity 5k run this Sunday for a very good cause, my friend didn’t ask what the cause was. He asked what time the run begins because he has to be home in time for the game.
This is a short synopsis of why Boston fans are better than the rest. I could go on for days, as could many of you. So I will close with this- a friend of mine was riding the T in a Yankees hat; minding his business, not saying a word. He got sucker punched in the back of the head. While street violence is never acceptable, you know you’re giving a little chuckle saying to yourself ‘That’s awesome’.