It's that time of year again -- no, not the time of year when you realize that you're too white to even start tanning on the Lawn (well, it is, and you should probably hit up the tanning bed a couple of times to pre-fry). It's actually that time of year when sports are in full effect. March Madness has given way to April Aw-Damn-My-Bracket-Is-Screwed-ness, intramural soccer has begun with spindly-legged kids getting brand-new ankle injuries and fat people running has hit its zenith.
This increase of actual participation in sports has been accompanied by a far greater threat -- that of the fair weather fan. You know this guy -- just a couple of weeks ago he was singing the praises of team X but, ever since their embarrassing loss to team Y, he is now the "biggest fan" of team Z. Dude, he's like a fourth-generation Z fan. His grandfather played for team Z. Or went to a game once. Or something like that.
The grossest perpetration of this has been with regards to the NCAA tournament. I can't tell you how many times I heard, "Dude, I really think this is Virginia's year" in every one of my classes. Virginia apparel was in full effect, and if you didn't wear at least two pieces of Virginia flair, you drew intense looks of ire (as well as public flogging, depending on your proximity to "that guy" who's somehow managed a couple dozen pieces of Virginia flair). Suddenly, after the loss, no one had anything to do with the University. Typical conversation:
Me: "So how about that Virginia loss yesterday?"
You: "Loss? What loss? Tennessee's my favorite team, and we laid the smack down on y'all. Boo-yah! In your face, preppy no-talent punks."
Me: "... What?"
You: "Dude, I don't even go here. I'm just touring."
Me: "You've been sitting in this class for 20 minutes. The professor called on you by name and you answered a question."
You: "...Go Vols."
And, of course, the next week you were wearing an Ohio State sweatshirt. Go Vols, indeed.
Unfortunately, the fair weatherness doesn't just apply to basketball. Suddenly, after the Super Bowl, everyone was from Indianapolis and was personally acquainted with Tony Dungy. Peyton Manning had been great all along, apparently. He was God's gift to football and always had been. But still, this person couldn't name a single guy on the roster other than Peyton Manning.
The worst of this is when it branches out into sports that no one pays attention to. For instance, last week Michael Phelps broke the world record for the fastest 400-meter individual medley. That's cool, I guess. I mean, I don't watch swimming and I can barely doggy-paddle, but I can respect a world record. But some people take it to the next level. All of the sudden, the free-swim hours at the pool are filled to the brim in every lane. Swimming caps and goggles quickly become fashion accessories. My online business of selling Michael Phelps posters posts its largest gain for a quarter ever.
They didn't even broadcast swimming on ESPN 8 "The Ocho" in "Dodgeball," so I know there's no way you're tuning in. I don't want to hear that you've been following Phelps's career ever since the 2000 Olympics when he didn't even medal but you "saw some real potential there." Just shut up.
This phenomenon goes beyond sports. Around the beginning of 2005, suddenly all the "W is for Women" and "Bush-Cheney '04" bumper stickers precipitously disappeared. Even after the midterms in '06, President Bush started wearing more blue suits and fewer red ties ... coincidence? I think not.
Where will fair weather fans rear their ugly heads next? The Vioxx verdict? Attorney firings? Jim Russell's Tuesday Life column (yes, please)? What we need are more Mets fans. That's right, Mets fans. The Mets have sucked, consistently, for almost three full centuries. Yet their fans still show up for games, wear blue and orange in public and physically fight anyone wearing black and white pinstripes despite the fact that the Yankees win a dozen games for every game the Mets lose by less than a dozen. What we need to do is synthesize Met fan DNA to find out what keeps them from becoming Yankees fans and then manipulate everyone else's genes accordingly. In the meantime I'll be watching my main man, Derek Jeter.
Jim's column runs biweekly on Tuesdays. He can be reached at russell@cavalierdaily.com.
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