Good morning,
WHY ROOT FOR LOSERS?
My team is the Angels. Oh, sure, I root for the Dodgers, because I live here, my kids grew up here and it is something of a civic religion to support the boys in blue. But I really love the guys from Anaheim—like most people who love their teams, for no particularly good reason. But why should any of us be be personally invested in the fortunes of any team? After all, they’re a bunch of 20-somethings with minimal connection to the city in which they play, often making sums of money unimaginable to most of us, particularly in this era of free agency and repeated moves. That said, it’s just fun to follow the ups and downs of something with no intrinsic value—in which we have no stake and no responsibility!
Until their World Series season, I attended every game of each of the three playoffs the Angels were in. In the first, they were bested by a clearly better team. The second and third visits (in 1982 and 1986—but what sort of nut would remember such things), they should have made it to the World Series, but succeeded in going down to defeat in spectacular fashion (in the latter case, they were but one strike away from the World Series). In 2002 they finally made it (as the American League’s wild card team), in their sole visit to the World Series. They won that match up, against the dreaded Giants. It is a result in which both Angels and Dodgers fans alike could revel. I I was at Game 7 with Jake. I’ll never forget it.
BELOVED UNDERDOGS
In this year’s World Series, the Phillies were spectacularly overmatched by the Houston Astros, the American League champs. The margin between the two teams’ number of victories during the regular season hadn’t been that wide since 1906! And yet, against all odds (and the eventual result), Phillies fans are “true believers.”
As I considered this mismatch, I came upon an article in The Atlantic about the writer’s unswerving dedication to the supremely mediocre Washington Wizards basketball team: https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2022/10/washington-wizards-sports-fandom-psychology/671864/?utm_content=edit-promo&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=the-atlantic&utm_source=facebook&utm_term=2022-10-26T12%3A01%3A56&fbclid=IwAR0xGzCkRGgRzBURFe-s_qYLeVni4hvocrIAk6jlhakEkZLmOprOOYpNSCY
The gist of the article is recounting the intense loyalty of lovers of perennially underachieving teams. What actually motivates them and fills them with hope, against all rational analysis? The author’s conclusion is that the truest of fans are not those who follow the “easy” teams to root for—the richest teams with the deepest payrolls. The real examples of loyalty are those who continue to support their team, irrespective of success, often knowing that the team being fielded likely won’t even make a respectable run. Fans in Kansas City or Pittsburgh or Miami root for teams with small payrolls and little opportunity for success—but they love the game. And yet there is something worse than rooting for a team with little expectation of success. The real trauma is experienced by those who are not rooting for a ”guaranteed loser,” but those fans whose teams get tantalizingly close year-after year, only to disappoint their supporters in the end—over and over again.
As an Angeles fan, I have a certain kinship with this author and all those who carry the torch for teams that have a storied history of mediocrity—teams that try our patience, tantalize us with occasional heroic feats, the signing of superstars, and random strings of unanticipated victories.
One can forgive a child for believing that a team out of reach in a game still technically has a chance to win that game. How many times did the young Glenn convince himself that a late-inning deficit could be overcome through a convoluted series of nearly-impossible events? “Okay, they’re down 6-1, but if they just load the bases and Fregosi hits a grand slam, then they’re only down a run and surely they can manufacture one more run to tie the game and go into extra innings!” What is oddly endearing is that, for many die-hard fans, their child-selves grow up and continue to harbor unrealistic expectations against all odds.
TRUE DEDICATION
There is something about this type of fandom that knows no logic (why, after all, do any of us care about a bunch of over-coddled and overpaid athletes?) and often hearkens back to bygone days of nostalgia. I admire my brother-in-law, who developed a love for the University of California Golden Bears (Go, Bears!) during his student days and maintains a level of knowledge that allows him to dissect each and every play in excruciating detail. The Bears haven’t made it to the Rose Bowl in his lifetime (the last time was in 1959), but hope springs eternal. His favorite t-shirt reads: “Keeping New Year’s Day Open Since 1960, Just In Case…”
Some fan loyalty begins at a tender age and continues throughout life. Mark DiMaria is obsessed with the New York area teams, despite living there for a relatively short time. Here is Mark’s observation about The Atlantic article, in his own words:
“Please note that even in this piece about being a fan of a hopelessly long-term bad team, he mentioned MY team, the Knicks, as one of only two teams with worse records over the relevant time period. Beyond that, while he laments his 44 years of waiting for the Wizards/Bullets, the Knicks last won the championship in 1973 -- now 50 seasons ago!!
Jets - 1969; Knicks - 1973; Mets - 1986; Rangers - 1994. Currently a combined 166 years of waiting, loyally cheering on the teams of my youth in another millennium, from 3,000 miles away ...”
What must be noted is that this recitation of useless data flows from Mark’s memory like words of gospel memorized and recited by monks.
The author of the article ends with the following, which is an explanation (such as there can be one) and a mantra shared by the fraternity of loyal fans of hopeless losers the world over:
“Even though I know better, I’m optimistic this season won’t be a #SoWizards year. Maybe the team will jell. Maybe the young players will develop. Maybe the veterans will stay healthy. Or, you know, maybe not. A struggling sports franchise, I’ve decided, is like your idiot brother or jackass uncle. Despite all their obvious flaws, you still love them. And so I’ll cherish disco-era Bullets memories, celebrate the unexpected victories, cling to foolish hope, and brace myself for the worst. If they miss the playoffs—again—well, there’s always next year.”
THE FINAL WORD
Mark closes with the words of his father: "’Adversity builds character,’ as my Dad always has told me when trying to lift my spirits over the years. Then again, his latest comment, when discussing the teams I follow, was "Mark, I think it's you."
Have a great day,
Glenn
From the archives:
Lakers Knicks. I was overjoyed that LA had won their first championship in 72 season. What a great team. What did they win - 31 in a row? But the next year was another challenge. Knicks Lakers. What a roster the Knicks had! I remember DeBusschere sinking jump shots, Reed dominant at the boards, plus Frazier, Monroe, Bradley. Let's not forget the great bench with Lucas, Barnett, and Jackson among others. That year it all came together, as it must for a winner, at the end. Basically their team was composed of an all-star team in itself. They were too much for the Lakers that year, and a repeat for LA was not in the cards.
The Angels were my very first MLB game. My dad and I stepped from the 2nd or 3rd tier tunnel, along 3rd base, and the vast expanse of green opened up before me. I was awestruck, being about 14 years old. What an expanse! I'll never forget that feeling. We watched the game, and I recall the Big A holding the scoreboard, Jim Fregosi at SS, and those hats had the halo on top. Interesting, a nice try, but ultimately too cute. My first MLB game, and my last Angels game. I let my dad know - NEWSFLASH - I was and still am a Dodger fan. I wonder if Nolan Ryan pitched that day. Spring 1969.