The Scarlet & Black

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The Scarlet & Black

The Scarlet & Black

Fairweather fans are no fans at all

There comes a time in every young fan’s life when their team finally gets a little piece of the action. This is the day when the waiting, blood, sweat and many, many tears all finally pay off in that glorious ESPN coverage that this time lasts more than the time it takes to state that you have lost once again. The moment is so sweet that it’s almost tangible. No longer will your friends and family scorn you for liking the other team of your city, as if they, like yourself, could be equated into some black sheep status of the sport’s franchise family. The only thing that ruins this moment of the culmination of your shared humiliation is when all of a sudden a ridiculous number of former non-believers hop onto your train of hotness and act as if they have been there all along. What happens after this? The incredulous words, “Are you f’ing serious?”

What, pray tell, has caused this recent smattering of disbelief that back in the day when uttered received a good helping of Dial in the bathroom? Well I will tell you; it’s the gross amount of born again Los Angeles Clippers fans that have all of a sudden come out of the woodwork. At first I hadn’t even noticed the “I love Blake Griffin” Facebook and Twitter posts. I was too consumed in my own private joy, especially after their win over the Los Angeles Lakers. It was like David and Goliath, only made better because it was basketball. But even then, as if the heavens had shined down upon the Staples Center that January evening, the little on-court baby brawl with Griffin, Lamar Odum and Ron Artest only heightened the thrill of the win. For the few L.A. Clippers fans that had stayed strong throughout the years, this was our time, yet somehow, without anyone really recognizing it, all of a sudden the moment became shared by a bunch of disgruntled Lakers fans deciding to jump ship.

Part of me understands why Lakers fans are trading that gold and purple for some ever-patriotic red, white and blue. If my team had recently lost a game to the Cavaliers, I, too, would be full of utter shame and disappointment. It might take all the strength I had left to get out of bed the next morning and take down my Kobe Bryant poster for the recent dunk winner’s #32 jersey. Heck, I almost sympathize with these phonies, who for years the closest thing they ever did to supporting the Clippers was to buy tickets from their side of the box office when going up against the Lakers, just because the tickets were cheaper. But at the heart of their sad sob story is my anger! And it isn’t just because these supposed “die hard” fans are trying to get in on my team’s spotlight, it goes deeper to the core of what it really means to be a fan.

To be a fan is for life. The moment you announce to your peers that you are taking a stance in the sports arena for a particular team you might as well have said, “I do.” You spend the next years of your life learning the stats, the history, what the power forward likes to eat before the game, and the oh-so-sacred peculiarities of that guard’s build up to his 3-point shot. It’s a commitment beyond any other, that isn’t just relegated to the basketball world, but is seen in the collective disappointment by Buffalo Bills fans (every time they make it to the Super Bowl) and any Cubs fan in the history of baseball. If you don’t believe me, ask any L.A. Kings fan because let’s face it, on the West Coast how often are sports on the ice advertised? When a fan is so ready to trade in jerseys and give up season tickets what are we left with? A moment that causes the ever-shocking words, “Are you f’ing serious?”

-Ariel Vinson ’12

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