I've lived in New York (the state) all my life. I've lived in the Long Island/NYC area since college. I've been a Mets fan since Strawberry's rookie year.
I'm moving to L.A. soon. I'm thinking of becoming a Dodgers fan when I get there.
Hear me out, OK?
Let's set aside what the Mets did to us in 2007 and 2008. That anyone could remain a fan of that organization after two revolting appalling back-to-back inexcusable heart-rending epic choke jobs (three, if you count Beltran keeping the bat on his shoulder against Wainwright in Game 7 of the 2006 NLCS) is a feat in itself. And since Citi Field opened -- a nice ballpark for the fans but one that has ruined David Wright's career along with the Mets' prospects of ever having a decent-hitting team -- we've been waiting for them to get better, always just around the corner, so we're told, whilst we observe the reality of a shrinking payroll, marginal talent, bad signings, record numbers of stranded baserunners, relief pitching from hell, and a seemingly endless parade to the disabled list for every key player on the roster (how anyone on this team's medical and training staff still has a job is beyond me). Let's face it, this team is darn near unwatchable right now, and apart from the games that R.A. Dickey pitched in 2012 and that Matt Harvey pitched last year, and Johan Santana's no-hitter, it has been since 2009.
But enough complaining and rationalizing about the Mets. This has little to do with how bad the Mets are and how good the Dodgers happen to be right now, although the fact that the Mets can't seem to get any better year over year over year does lend itself to a certain sense of futility for Mets fans. Why keep investing emotional energy in something that not only makes you unhappy but seems to have no chance of ever getting any better? Let alone from 3,000 miles away? Why not start fresh with a new team in a new city?
I have a couple of friends who don't like the way I conduct myself as a sports fan; they don't like the way I treat "my" teams. They don't think I'm a "true" fan because sometimes I predict that one of them will lose an upcoming game or do poorly in an upcoming season. They seem to think that if I was more "positive" and enthusiastic, the Mets and the Jets would do better. As if Kyle Farnsworth blew a save, or Mark Sanchez butt-fumbled, because of me; because they were thinking about me when they did it and were troubled by all my negative thinking. It's absurd.
Recently I mentioned on Facebook that I might become a Dodger fan when I move to L.A. and was greeted by one of them with this nonsense:
That figures. You are definitely not a loyal fan of any N.Y professional team. I am sure you will also stop rooting for the Jets as well. I hope that you enjoy rooting for your new teams. Your old teams will be very happy that you gave disavowed your loyalty to them.
This person is actually
older than me. He then called me a "fair-weather fan." Right. I'm a "fair-weather fan" who has been rooting for the
New York F***ing Mets for
30 years.
I should note that I didn't say anything about "disavowing" any "loyalty" to the Mets. I know it's a novel concept for some people, but it's actually possible to be a fan of more than one team in the same sport at the same time. I can continue to root for the Mets from afar whilst enjoying the occasional Dodger Dog in Chavez Ravine, and just choose a side whenever they play each other, which generally happens twice a season (6 or 7 games; one series in each city). If I'm going to live in L.A., why would I consciously choose to not go to ballgames there and root, root, root for the home team?
And it's not like I don't have any connection to the Dodgers. Sure, they moved out of Brooklyn long before I was born. But many years ago when I was an English teacher I read and taught Roger Kahn's book The Boys of Summer, and it is impossible to read that book and not fall in love with the Brooklyn Dodgers, with those great Dodger teams of Robinson and Reese and Campanella and Snider and Hodges, with Ebbets Field and Red Barber and Hilda Chester and Dem Bums. Needless to say, I did. I think I have as many Brooklyn Dodger caps and t-shirts as Mets caps and t-shirts. Maybe more.
This notion that my "old teams will be very happy that [I] have disavowed [my] loyalty to them" is ludicrous. A sports franchise is just a product, an abstract entity with no emotion or consciousness; it lacks the capacity to be "happy" about anything, let alone anything I do. And even if it did, so what? I'm supposed to remain "loyal" to a product, one that stresses me out and makes me miserable, to the point where I can't do or say anything that might hurt its feelings? Seriously? Are Gonzalez Germen and Ruben Tejada going to be talking about it in the clubhouse, how "happy" they are that I, GrafZeppelin127, am no longer a Mets fan?
The idea that I, as a fan, could have any impact on the outcome of a game or a season or any player's performance by doing or saying anything, or by feeling a certain way about a team/product/brand or group of players, is so monumentally stupid that it barely deserves a response. Indeed, one of the great frustrations of being a fan is that you have no control over the outcome; all you can do is watch what happens and hope things go your way. When your team blows a 3-run lead in the 9th inning, or a 7-game division lead in late September, watching it unfold can make you feel pretty helpless, because there's nothing you can do to stop it.
Everyone has their own ideas about what it means to be a sports fan, a "true" fan of a particular team, and everyone has their own reasons for being a sports fan or a fan of a particular team. What I'll never understand is how some fans admonish other fans to be "better" fans for the team's sake, not their own. That's what I've never gotten about these friends of mine when they break my chops about my apparent shortcomings as a fan. They want me to "support the team" and feel more positive about it, for its sake, not mine.
This is not to say that I don't have friends who tell me I should think and feel more positively about my favorite teams, and not be so bothered and put-out by their consistent, repeated and egregious failures, for the sake of my own emotional well-being. That, I can understand and appreciate. "Don't be so negative; it's making you miserable." That makes sense. "Don't be so negative; it's making the Mets lose" doesn't; nor does "Don't be so negative; it's making the Mets sad."
I think the bottom line is, if you're a fan, you should enjoy being a fan. Sports is entertainment, a diversion from real life. If being a fan of a particular team makes you miserable, if you don't derive any enjoyment from it, you should give it up. I've done that.
All through high school and college I was a fan of a certain out-of-town pro football team (while continuing to casually watch and support the Jets and, for part of that time, the Giants) that had won a Super Bowl when I was in 8th grade and first started watching sports with real interest. And when I say "fan," I mean devoted, passionate, obsessive fan. I wore its colors -- not just its merchandise, its colors -- scoured the local papers every day for news about it, studied its history, subscribed to its magazine, went out of my way to watch its games on satellite, stuck or drew its logo on nearly everything I owned, and talked about it constantly, to the point of driving other people crazy. When people thought of me, they thought of that team.
By the time I'd been out of college for a few years, I'd had enough. The team was not only bad, underachieving, but seemed to be losing on purpose. They had the dumbest front-office in all of sports and played like the dumbest team in football, leading the league in penalties and turnovers year after year and constantly choking away leads late in games in really egregious ways, especially to division rivals. The team was making me miserable, so I decided to let it go. I got rid of all the caps and t-shirts and jackets and stickers and painted over all the logos. I stopped watching and paying attention to their games on Sundays and stopped following their personnel moves in the offseason. Indeed, I didn't watch any football at all for almost two full seasons. I even had some fun with my friends when they mentioned the team to me or asked how they were doing; I'd say, "The who? Never heard of them."
That's what it took to overcome the devotion and obsession I had for that franchise and get it out of my system for good. No one was ever more "loyal" to that team than I had been, but I let it go and put it out of my life, for my own sake. Why would you criticize and denigrate a person for doing that? Why should "loyalty" to a product/brand be more important than emotional well-being?
I thought of another Mets/Dodgers-related anecdote that might also be illustrative. In 2008, the last year of Shea Stadium, I ran into a friend at a game there and sat with him and his friends for an inning or two. We were talking about Citi Field and one of them complained about the new ballpark's "Jackie Robinson Rotunda," on the grounds that Robinson was never a Met. I explained that Robinson was an important figure not only in baseball history (not to mention civil-rights history), but in New York baseball history, and New York National League baseball history of which the Dodgers, Giants and Mets are all part, and since this is where National League baseball is being played in New York today, it's appropriate to honor Robinson in this city, in this place, in this fashion. No, he said, Robinson was not a Met, so should not be honored in the Mets' ballpark; if he is to be honored at all, he should be honored at Dodger Stadium in L.A. I noted that Robinson never played in L.A.; he played his entire major league career in Brooklyn. Again, "But he didn't play for the Mets."
We went back and forth on this for a few minutes, he always returning to the same Robinson-wasn't-a-Met argument. Eventually he asked, "What if I take my kids to a Mets game someday? And they see the rotunda honoring someone who didn't play for the Mets? How am I supposed to explain that to my kids?" To which I could only reply, with some appropriate sarcasm, "Oh, G-d forbid you should have to tell your children about Jackie Robinson."
I think the point of this anecdote is that there are things in life, and even in sports, that are more important than myopic "loyalty" to a particular franchise/brand, because in reality that's all a pro team is anymore. The rosters change year after year, players (even star players) come and go, and even logos and uniforms change now and then to sell more merchandise or "update" the brand. A team may inhabit a particular city but the players by and large aren't from there.
More importantly, though, I think there is really no "correct" or proper way to be a sports fan, or to be a fan of any particular team. If being a fan of Team X makes you happy, then be a fan of Team X. If it doesn't, don't. Sure, there's a certain amount of satisfaction that comes from sticking with a team for many lean years and then savoring the ultimate triumph; we saw that in New York with the Rangers 20 years ago, and with the Mets in '86. Someday maybe the Jets will give their fans that kind of gift (although I tend to doubt it; there I go again).
I'm thinking my first Dodger game as a resident of Los Angeles will be in late August, when the Mets come to town. Who will I root for?