Guys, I’m tired of being discriminated against. They jeer, they taunt, they look at me like I’m some sub-human. But I’m not. I’m a real person with real feelings who’s fed up with being victimized and singled out just because I’m a bandwagon sports fan.
Sports fans like to look down on the bandwagoners: the fans who become fans only once a team gets really good — or, in my case, a fan who jumps teams because of one superstar player.
My bandwagon? LeBron James.
I love basketball. In fact, I was utterly convinced at the age of nine that despite my 5’6” father’s stature, I would become the greatest point guard that ever lived. Legend says that back in the days of jousting contests, damsels-in-distress and cowboy duels, a team by the name of the Grizzlies used to play for Vancouver. Alas, they were long gone by the time I came of age.
So, instead of rooting for my home city, I began to root for a boy from Akron, Ohio who had just finished high school and was ready to take on the world. I liked him. I liked his story. I liked his mentality and I liked his vulnerability. So after seeing him play his first game in 2003, I decided that wherever LeBron played, I would cheer.
Is that so wrong?
I was desperate to feel that deep connection and passion to the game that true NBA fanatics felt. But with no hometown to cheer for and no roots in any other city, I chose a player to support. Not as callous and cold a decision as you thought, eh?
In fact, I’d argue that my bandwagoning ways are in some ways more legitimate than others’ decision to support a particular team. After all, players have personality. You grow to understand them, hate them, love them, and genuinely care about them. You stick by their side through thick and thin, and defend their honour in the face of relentless criticism, and that takes loyalty.
Teams? Well, teams change. Coaches get fired. Players get traded. The only constant are the superficial mascots and jersey colours, and even those change occasionally.
My buddy is a Kobe Bryant fan, and he also happens to be an asshole. (I’m not surprised.) But we share one thing in common. The other day, he told me how scared he was that Kobe would retire — that a part of his childhood will vanish, along with his love for the game.
That doesn’t sound like a superficial connection to me. That sounds human.
