The prototypical sports fan tends to be, if not totally maniacal, at least slightly fanatical (heed the word “fan” in fanatical). If you consider yourself a fan, there is some element where you go nuts about the team you follow.
Sports franchise owners mostly get this, and do their best to upgrade their team on an annual basis. Despite their best efforts, it’s amazing how some teams sink to the bottom every year.
Some visible examples include the Chicago Cubs in baseball, the Oakland Raiders in football and Minnesota Timberwolves in basketball. If you follow professional sports, you don’t really need to think about it. Instead, these teams come immediately to mind because you know they perpetually stink.
Once in a while they get close to the playoffs or actually do make it to the first round, but if that happens, they exit quickly and the team drops to the basement of their division standings the next year. You could almost guarantee making some big bucks by predicting this.
“Hey, Freddie, the Cubs are gonna capitalize on making the playoffs last year. I bet they make the World Series this year,” Saul observes.
Freddie, if he is smart, would ask Saul how much he takes home in his paycheck, then suggest a bet in that exact amount. Then he could steal Saul’s paycheck without going to jail. That’s because Cubs’ fans favorite phrase is, “Wait till next year.” Which implies the previous year was a hunk of sour dog meat.
A friend of mine goes off on “fans” like these. They’re not fans because real fans would care and not support a team that perpetually lost. At some point, you reject the team if they have not improved, according to his view, forcing management to make changes that increases victories. If not, why attend the games? He makes a strong point.
He goes on to suggest Cubs’ fans attend games more for the experience – partying, hanging out, sun bathing, eating bratwursts – rather than actually living and dying for the outcome. When you think of “having fun” at the ballpark, that doesn’t include a suicide watch after losses.
The St. Louis Cardinals, in contrast to the Cubs in Major League Baseball, have real fans, according to my buddy. They are considered the best and most knowledgeable fans in baseball, but will not attend if ownership doesn’t support the team with quality players.
He remembers a time sitting in old Busch Stadium in St. Louis (1974), in the box seats and being able to hear the phone ringing in the press box because the place was so empty. You can image how bad the birds were then.
Today, the stadium is packed nightly. They don’t win the World Series every year, but they’ve won their share and push other teams through the playoffs. That’s success, and the fans expect it. There is a product and brand on the field that they respect and follow.
Cub fans are the opposite. If they loved their team, shouldn’t they stop going to the stadium to show their disgust with the results year after year? That’s what a fan would do instead of a pseudo-fan. Not showing up to games would push ownership to improve the team and put a competitive unit on the field.
Since the money keeps pouring in to watch the team lose year after year, management has no real incentive to improve. So the Cubs wallow near the bottom of the standings, their followers getting good suntans and catching up with friends and maximizing their beer and food consumption.
That’s enough to make them content. But content shouldn’t be enough.
Sports franchise owners mostly get this, and do their best to upgrade their team on an annual basis. Despite their best efforts, it’s amazing how some teams sink to the bottom every year.
Some visible examples include the Chicago Cubs in baseball, the Oakland Raiders in football and Minnesota Timberwolves in basketball. If you follow professional sports, you don’t really need to think about it. Instead, these teams come immediately to mind because you know they perpetually stink.
Once in a while they get close to the playoffs or actually do make it to the first round, but if that happens, they exit quickly and the team drops to the basement of their division standings the next year. You could almost guarantee making some big bucks by predicting this.
“Hey, Freddie, the Cubs are gonna capitalize on making the playoffs last year. I bet they make the World Series this year,” Saul observes.
Freddie, if he is smart, would ask Saul how much he takes home in his paycheck, then suggest a bet in that exact amount. Then he could steal Saul’s paycheck without going to jail. That’s because Cubs’ fans favorite phrase is, “Wait till next year.” Which implies the previous year was a hunk of sour dog meat.
A friend of mine goes off on “fans” like these. They’re not fans because real fans would care and not support a team that perpetually lost. At some point, you reject the team if they have not improved, according to his view, forcing management to make changes that increases victories. If not, why attend the games? He makes a strong point.
He goes on to suggest Cubs’ fans attend games more for the experience – partying, hanging out, sun bathing, eating bratwursts – rather than actually living and dying for the outcome. When you think of “having fun” at the ballpark, that doesn’t include a suicide watch after losses.
The St. Louis Cardinals, in contrast to the Cubs in Major League Baseball, have real fans, according to my buddy. They are considered the best and most knowledgeable fans in baseball, but will not attend if ownership doesn’t support the team with quality players.
He remembers a time sitting in old Busch Stadium in St. Louis (1974), in the box seats and being able to hear the phone ringing in the press box because the place was so empty. You can image how bad the birds were then.
Today, the stadium is packed nightly. They don’t win the World Series every year, but they’ve won their share and push other teams through the playoffs. That’s success, and the fans expect it. There is a product and brand on the field that they respect and follow.
Cub fans are the opposite. If they loved their team, shouldn’t they stop going to the stadium to show their disgust with the results year after year? That’s what a fan would do instead of a pseudo-fan. Not showing up to games would push ownership to improve the team and put a competitive unit on the field.
Since the money keeps pouring in to watch the team lose year after year, management has no real incentive to improve. So the Cubs wallow near the bottom of the standings, their followers getting good suntans and catching up with friends and maximizing their beer and food consumption.
That’s enough to make them content. But content shouldn’t be enough.