A Personal Sports Fan History

A little history about me as a sports fan.

So long as I can remember, I have liked baseball. Not loved, that didn't come until later. But I enjoyed watching the Yankee and Met games when they were on TV, and my grandfather even took me to a few at Shea. Baseball was my first sporting love.

I didn't even know what football was the first time I saw it. I do surprisingly clearly remember seeing a member of the Dallas Cowboys running across the field and wondering aloud "is this baseball?" (I had to be about 4 or 5, and had never seen a football game in my life). I didn't really grow to love football until well into my teens.

Basketball, I started watching in my teens, when the Lakers and Celtics were just beginning to give way to the Pistons and Bulls as the dominant franchises.

Hockey I didn't even really truly understand and appreciate until I started playing NHL '92 on my Sega Genesis.

My team loyalty is not built on simple geography.

I liked the Yankees better than the Mets, but it had nothing to do with knowledge of the game, it had to do with team colors and other arbitrary factors. Once I truly came to the age where I began to appreciate the game (right about the time of the '83 season), I developed better reasons for following certain teams. As kids, we had exposure to cable TV, so I was able to watch games from different markets, getting more exposure to teams from other cities. A trip to Michigan for our cousin's wedding (and a souvenir Tigers hat) left me wanting to see more of the Tigers, and their trip to the World Series gave me a decent fill of them.

I watched whenever I could, trying to learn the teams and players and gain an understanding of the rules of the game (which my unsuccessful exposure to little league never gave me for some reason). The first World Series I ever watched with intense interest was the 1986 Mets Miracle against the Red Sox. My brother and I watched game six in our living room. It was fantastic. My grandfather went to Met games religiously, so much so that many people in his life (me included) assumed he was a die hard Met fan. It wasn't until I was rehearsing his eulogy that my cousin told me Pop was actually a die hard Yankees fan who just went to Shea because it was cheaper and closer. That made me sad that I never knew that about him, as it was he who began my association with, and love of, the game. He had played since he was just a boy, and baseball was a huge part of his life. It was this love that drew me to it. It was the predominance of Yankee fans in my circle of friends, and the fact that many of them were kinda douchey about it, that drove me away from the Yankees.

I started following different players whom I admired. My brother got me watching Oakland Athletic games, and Mark McGwire rapidly became my favorite player (so much so that my jersey number for most of my playing days was 25). By extension, I became a fan of the A's for a brief period. I also liked the Giants, because they had a decent collection of players (Matt Williams, Will Clark, Kevin Mitchell, Robby Thompson) and my brother and I would often replay the 1989 World Series on my Nintendo's RBI Baseball with me playing as the Giants and Tommy playing as the Canseco lead Athletics.

But it was during that time that I took notice of another team that had a collection of players that I admired. Frank Thomas, Robin Ventura, Ozzie Guillen, Lance Johnson, Dan Pasqua, Carlton Fisk, Ivan Calderon, Blackjack McDowell, Bobby Thigpen (and his 57 saves)... I rapidly grew enchanted with watching the Chicago White Sox, which was by far not a very popular choice. By the time Robin Ventura hit a line drive down the first base line against Toronto down 3-2 late in game six of the 1993 ALCS with me literally teetering on the edge of my seat, it was too late for me. I was hooked. The ball hooked foul, Ventura struck out, the Sox ended up losing the series, and I never looked back. This was my team.

My brother likened me to a caged animal pacing it's confines the night of Wednesday, October 26, 2005. When Juan Uribe sizzled a frozen rope of a throw over to Paul Konerko for the final out, it was my baseball Nirvana.

Football is easy: I was a huge fan of the Steelers mystique from the 70s that was all over the TV every time I watched anything involving the NFL. There wasn't any one person in my life who influenced me in football. My fondest wish was that somehow, my favorite player Barry Sanders would be traded to Steel City, and I could be undivided in my loyalty. I tried to be a Lions fan for a while, and Barry mercifully ended that with his sudden retirement. I am, to this day, a big Steelers fan (Roethlisberger, not so much. What the fuck were you thinking, Ben?)

Hockey is the only sport that some people guess my loyalty because it's the only local team I root for: The New York Islanders. I can trace my love of that team back to NHL 92 (and I think somewhere inside I was feeling pressured to like at least ONE local team). I didn't really "get" the game until my great friend Bill Scurry schooled me on it. He is truly a student of the game, and he taught me much of what I know today about the sport. (Seeing my White Sox hat in calculus class, Bill's first words to me in college were "are you a Blackhawks fan?" The unholy union continues to this day.)

I enjoyed watching the Lakers led by Magic Johnson, and that's really the only sport where I picked a franchise right away and stuck with it for the most part. My favorite player of all time was Shaquille O'Neal, and I of course began to follow the Magic as well. I eventually got my fondest basketball wish when he was signed by the Lakers, and I watched him bring them to glory three times. When he and Kobe Bryant began to fued, I was one of the hugest "drop Kobe" proponents you could find. The Lakers chose poorly, and kept the rapist, letting the man known as Big Aristotle go to the Heat. I followed them for a while, enjoyed another championship, and then followed the Suns when he went there. I was excited to see him traded to the Cavaliers, thinking this was another one in the bag with a guy like LeBron leading him, but alas, the Celtics were the better team.

I have never really forgiven the Lakers for choosing Bryant over Shaq, but my loyalty to the team was still there. But as I am watching this year's finals, I am torn. Between Bryant and Ron "Too Stupid to Live" Artest, the Lakers are currently a refuge for the two players in the NBA that I hate the most. I was actually rooting for the Magic in the finals last season. Dwight Howard reminds me of a young Shaq with his dominant defense, and his improved offense this season makes me think he could be my new favorite player once Shaq Daddy calls it quits. But what is a Lakers fan to do when the face of your franchise is one you'd like to bash in with a parking meter? I find myself hating other Lakers by association. What the Hell is a Vujačić?!?

It's all very complicated. The Lakers are disappointing me, even as they are on the verge of winning a second consecutive title. The Steelers have the NFL's newest asshat leading them on the field. The Islanders... shit, I couldn't even name one of them, Hockey has lost a lot of steam with me since the strike of 04-05.

But baseball? I don't care how bush league AJ Pierzynski is (and he is). I don't care how obnoxious Ozzie Guillen is (and he REALLY is). I don't care how big a homer the Hawk Harrelson is (oh, LORDY). In baseball, my loyalty is as simple as Black and White.