The Serious Business of Being a Fan

Rooting for your favorite sports team can be a very stressful business.  You’ve invested an entire afternoon—or an entire 6 months—following the Hometown Heroes, and now here you are, in front of the TV, score tied in the bottom of the 9^th, a man on second, the count is 2-2, the pitch is on the way . . . and all you can do is watch.  That’s the stressful part:  We fans are completely involved and totally helpless.  This combination of stress and helplessness may often lead to some strange, even violent behavior.  What, you’ve never yelled at the television in anger/disgust/rage/despair/anger/hopelessness/anger?

I've been known to bolt out of my seat as if the couch suddenly caught fire, trying to hold a runner at third who was obviously about to be thrown out at the plate.  In fact, the very first time Martha felt our first daughter, Rebecca, move in the womb, occurred when Oriole relief pitcher Tom Niedenfuer was busy yielding 3 consecutive home runs to the Detroit Tigers.  Martha says that Becky started kicking because she was scared by all the yelling as the second homer made its way toward the upper deck at Tiger Stadium.  I say she was kicking in disgust.  Becky, now age 21, has turned out to be a real baseball fan, so I think I’m right.

I suppose that yelling at the TV is at least logical on some level.  The superstitions that most of us develop in order to influence the action, however, are somewhat less rational.  Now, I don’t know about your remote control, but the mute button on my remote control has a tremendous telepathic influence. 

Throughout the waning days of the summer of 1989, the Orioles were locked in a duel with the Toronto Blue Jays for the American League East pennant, I discovered that good things happened if I pressed the mute button.  I think it started when The Birds would play an away game and I couldn’t stand to hear the cheering of the opponent’s fans.  Lo and behold, whenever I pressed the mute button, good things happened.  I began to learn the intricacies of the mute; press it when the pitch was on its way, and use it sparingly.  Throughout September, if we needed a strike or an out or a timely hit, I would press the mute button in that split second that the ball was traveling from the pitcher to the batter.  It worked, right up until the 8^th inning of that first game of the last series of the season against the Blue Jays.  The Orioles ended up losing two out of three games, and thus the pennant.

I've continued to use the mute button on certain occasions in order to influence the action on the field. It cannot be used in hopeless situations, however, which explains why it hasn’t been used much during the Orioles’ past 11 seasons.  Most recently, I've used it with football and I'm happy to say that my mute button sent the Tennessee Titans down to defeat against the Ravens in this year’s playoffs.  Our younger daughter Sarah was watching the game with me, but it was not until two of her friends came over that the tide began to turn in the Ravens’ favor.  I knew that Jenn sitting in the rocker and Jessa sitting on the couch was creating a positive Ravens vibe in Nashville.

Still, it was a tight game, and so Sarah suggested that I hit the mute.  I did so, selectively of course, and by my count, the mute button resulted in a sack by Terrell Suggs, a crucial third-down stop by the Baltimore defense, a critical Ravens first down, and two Ravens field goals.  No one who was there—and by that I mean Sarah, Jenn, and Jessa—dared question the POWER OF THE MUTE!

I don’t know what happened against Pittsburgh.  I think the batteries must have been low.  Or maybe I wasn’t wearing my lucky sweatshirt.  Or maybe I should have brought Jenn and Jessa over to the house again and made them sit in the same seats.  I’m sure that it was something like that . . .  In any case, as I said, rooting for your favorite sports team can be stressful!

Comments

[JohnLL]

Austin, during the NLCS and World Series, I met together with 5 or 6 other Phillies fans (yes, there ARE that many in the area). We sat in the same seats, wore the same clothes, and even ate the same food night after night. It was our mute button. We knew it was ridiculous, but we did it anyway.

And when Matt Stairs hit that HR against Broxton, I yelled so loud and long that I hurt my throat. Made it tough to teach the next day.

Good post! JLL

[Melissa Dodge]

I hope to see that remote out at Rebel Park this summer--just in case! I too have been the victim of the undeniable mojo of the rally shoes, hats, seats, etc. I suppose it is our way of trying to claim a small bit of power in an uncontrollable situation.

[Anna Kipps]

Haha. I have discovered that these little superstitious activities have to be done the right way. I don't know if you've ever seen a dugout perform the "twos" ritual when a count is 2-2 with 2 outs. It involves rubbing the cap with two fingers, and taking it off at the right moment to shake it. I've discovered though that there's a right way and a wrong way to do it. Perhaps it is the same with the mute button? Maybe you should only press it with your right/left hand? Or only with your thumb/index finger. Hehe, its something to think about.

[Austin]

And you know I'll think about it, too! I'll have to try all the finger/right-left combinations until I have become one with the mute button.

[Jessa]

I remember sitting on the rocker for the Pittsburgh game....maybe i should have sat on the couch.