Monday, August 23, 2004
Hatred Made Fun!
One of the most enjoyable aspects of being a sports fan is the opportunity to be totally loyal to the point of irrationality. Your team could have just finished dead last in their division yet you have the opportunity to stick your head in the sporting sand and say "wait 'til next year." You can create nicknames for your players like you would your buddies from high school and hold every single play they make or don't make up to the microscope as if it were the deciding play in Game Seven. These are some of the ridiculous and unfair joys of sports fandom. My particular favorite, however, is the privilege of hatred.
As a sports fan, I have the unique chance to loathe another human being whom I have never even met and whom has done absolutely nothing to me personally. Sometimes, they make it easy. Allen Iverson's infamous "we talkin' 'bout practice" line, Roger Clemens' amateur javelin toss, Chris Webber's pouty face and constant whining--when it comes to hate, these guys give you a few reasons to choose from. Then there's the Tim Duncan Factor. Duncan is considered to be one of the "nice guys" of the NBA, a rare example of sterling sportsmanship. I hate the man. I hate how quiet he is and I can't stand the way he looks around with big doe eyes like he's sorry he just dunked on your whole front court. I want to like him, I really do. He's the epitome of public responsibility and professionalism. He an all-out team player, he's fundamentally sound, and most importantly, he wins with dignity. However, he also knocked my Lakers out of the playoffs two years ago and for this I cannot forgive him. It's lunacy, I realize, but oh is it ever fun.
A new layer I've recently discovered is the wonderful sense of forgiveness you can feel when you allow a mortal enemy to crack his villainous veneer and shine through as a likeable person. Disabling your own twisted dislike can be as rewarding as signing a peace accord or doing an afternoon of community service. Back in the Dark Ages when UCLA could actually come within twenty points of USC in football, Bruin running back DeShaun Foster made fools of the 'SC defense. He got more yards than I do at the driving range and as a proud Trojan, I cursed him every step of the way. Then my colleague and friend, Joe Lederer, bumped into him on a number of occasions and actually found him to be a pleasant guy. I heard him on ESPN Radio one morning describing how he chose UCLA because USC wanted him to switch to cornerback and my utter despise of him for trampling my Trojans for how many years in a row suddenly shifted. Just that quickly I was able to divert all my deliciously negative energy from DeShaun, a hardworking local guy and NFC Champion, to former USC coach Paul Hackett, the Mr. Magoo lookalike who tried to get one of the nation's best running back recruits to switch to defense. And I came away feeling like Ghandi to boot!
This morning, I heard Indiana Pacer and former UCLA Bruin (is there a pattern here?) Reggie Miller on "The Dan Patrick Show." From his fight with Michael Jordan to his choke sign squabble with Spike Lee to his Tony Award-winning flops, I have abhorred Reggie Miller for as long as I can remember. Then I heard him this morning bragging about the Angels' sweeping the Yankees over the weekend and I was thrown for a loop! What was I supposed to do with this? How can someone as evil as Reggie Miller root for a team as wholesome and virtuous as the Heavenly Halos? And he wasn't a bandwagon fan either! This was like if Adolph Hitler made an adorable guest appearance on "The Brady Bunch" for crying out loud! My body was rejecting it, at first, but then I calmed down and decided that Reggie might not be as bad as I had made him out to be. He'll always be a Bruin, of course, but as a Pacer he wasn't much of a threat. I have bigger enemies out West to worry about. Besides, I will actually be rooting for Reggie, or his teammates at least, to make sure the detested Detroit Pistons don't win any more titles. Alas, Rock Teeth Reggie achieved redemption in thirty seconds for ill will spanning an entire career.
When people tell me they don't understand what's so fun about watching sports, the first thing I tell them is how enriching it is to put your heart into a team and have them drag it through the mud half your life, then show you flashes of complete and total harmony only to drag it through all over again. Sports are a lot like love in that way. What I think I should tell them now is how fun it can be to have enemies, even if you've created them as such without good reason. It's exciting to have rivalries; it's thrilling to have personal battles. To hate people you don't know can be intoxicating and then to forgive them can be quite sobering.
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As a sports fan, I have the unique chance to loathe another human being whom I have never even met and whom has done absolutely nothing to me personally. Sometimes, they make it easy. Allen Iverson's infamous "we talkin' 'bout practice" line, Roger Clemens' amateur javelin toss, Chris Webber's pouty face and constant whining--when it comes to hate, these guys give you a few reasons to choose from. Then there's the Tim Duncan Factor. Duncan is considered to be one of the "nice guys" of the NBA, a rare example of sterling sportsmanship. I hate the man. I hate how quiet he is and I can't stand the way he looks around with big doe eyes like he's sorry he just dunked on your whole front court. I want to like him, I really do. He's the epitome of public responsibility and professionalism. He an all-out team player, he's fundamentally sound, and most importantly, he wins with dignity. However, he also knocked my Lakers out of the playoffs two years ago and for this I cannot forgive him. It's lunacy, I realize, but oh is it ever fun.
A new layer I've recently discovered is the wonderful sense of forgiveness you can feel when you allow a mortal enemy to crack his villainous veneer and shine through as a likeable person. Disabling your own twisted dislike can be as rewarding as signing a peace accord or doing an afternoon of community service. Back in the Dark Ages when UCLA could actually come within twenty points of USC in football, Bruin running back DeShaun Foster made fools of the 'SC defense. He got more yards than I do at the driving range and as a proud Trojan, I cursed him every step of the way. Then my colleague and friend, Joe Lederer, bumped into him on a number of occasions and actually found him to be a pleasant guy. I heard him on ESPN Radio one morning describing how he chose UCLA because USC wanted him to switch to cornerback and my utter despise of him for trampling my Trojans for how many years in a row suddenly shifted. Just that quickly I was able to divert all my deliciously negative energy from DeShaun, a hardworking local guy and NFC Champion, to former USC coach Paul Hackett, the Mr. Magoo lookalike who tried to get one of the nation's best running back recruits to switch to defense. And I came away feeling like Ghandi to boot!
This morning, I heard Indiana Pacer and former UCLA Bruin (is there a pattern here?) Reggie Miller on "The Dan Patrick Show." From his fight with Michael Jordan to his choke sign squabble with Spike Lee to his Tony Award-winning flops, I have abhorred Reggie Miller for as long as I can remember. Then I heard him this morning bragging about the Angels' sweeping the Yankees over the weekend and I was thrown for a loop! What was I supposed to do with this? How can someone as evil as Reggie Miller root for a team as wholesome and virtuous as the Heavenly Halos? And he wasn't a bandwagon fan either! This was like if Adolph Hitler made an adorable guest appearance on "The Brady Bunch" for crying out loud! My body was rejecting it, at first, but then I calmed down and decided that Reggie might not be as bad as I had made him out to be. He'll always be a Bruin, of course, but as a Pacer he wasn't much of a threat. I have bigger enemies out West to worry about. Besides, I will actually be rooting for Reggie, or his teammates at least, to make sure the detested Detroit Pistons don't win any more titles. Alas, Rock Teeth Reggie achieved redemption in thirty seconds for ill will spanning an entire career.
When people tell me they don't understand what's so fun about watching sports, the first thing I tell them is how enriching it is to put your heart into a team and have them drag it through the mud half your life, then show you flashes of complete and total harmony only to drag it through all over again. Sports are a lot like love in that way. What I think I should tell them now is how fun it can be to have enemies, even if you've created them as such without good reason. It's exciting to have rivalries; it's thrilling to have personal battles. To hate people you don't know can be intoxicating and then to forgive them can be quite sobering.
# posted by j.h.k. @ 1:34 PM 
