SPORTS
Monday, March 23, 2015 19
The Definition of Insanity
The nature of sport fandom
michael silver › staff writer
T
he maple leafs haven’t won the Stanley
Cup since 1967. The Blue Jays haven’t made
the playoffs since 1993. Most people reading this likely don’t remember the last time
these teams were truly successful. So why do we
care so much? Why are we fans? I asked myself these
questions this past week after one of the Blue Jays’
best pitchers was unexpectedly injured. He will
likely miss the entire season. It was devastating, disappointing news, which made me question why this
even matters to me.
Sports are filled with disappointment. They are
inherently set up to produce a disappointing result
for most observers. Even when fans see a positive
result, the enjoyment that they
receive is likely
out of proportion w ith the
amount of time
and worry that
they commit to following the team over the years.
Between injuries, poor performance, or simply the
nature of competition, most years are not going to
end well for most teams. Yet fans keep coming back.
No other form of entertainment would retain
support after prolonged periods of disappointment
the way that sports do.
One possible explanation is that it is the competition, and not the results, that is truly appealing. Fans appreciate how committed the players are
to the process, and appreciate the process, not the
results. But this explanation rings hollow to me. The
purpose of the competition, after all, is to determine
the champion. After prolonged disappointment, I
would think people would grow tired of the process.
A more compelling explanation is that sports
fans feel membership in a community. The fans of
a specific team develop a culture, a shared history,
even a tradition. It is comforting being a member of
a community and experiencing the emotional ups
and downs of sport fandom with a group of people.
Sports can become a vital part of civic identity and
unite a broad range of cultural groups. They can
distract from other social problems, and be a constant in an otherwise uncertain life. Allegiances are
passed on between generations and are fiercely protected. In ancient Rome, cities fought wars; today,
they match up in playoff series.
Sports fans become so enamored with their preferred teams that they feel like a part of the team.
Often, they will use pronouns that include themselves and the team as a single entity. They feel a
sense of ownership over the team—a sense of elation when the team succeeds and devastation when
it fails. These feelings are clearly false as the players
are millionaires who can easily move on from failure and the owners are usually more concerned with
profits than with victory. Fans are so psychologically
invested that they care more about the results than
those directly involved.
Teams are well aware of the nature of sports
fandom and are experts at exploiting it for profit.
The Maple Leafs know that they can charge whatever they want for tickets and still be able to sell
out, even with an abysmal team. They know that
they will always be one of the most profitable teams
in the league. Less popular teams constantly make
decisions targeted at maximizing their profits and
exploiting their fans’ commitment.
All teams attempt to position their merchandising, tickets, and media in ways to maximize profits,
even at the expense of the fans. They are able to do
so based on the unwavering allegiance of fans who
have become psychologically conditioned to always
love the local team. No other business is able to disregard customers to the degree that sports teams are
able to. Teams remain some of the most profitable
business enterprises in the world and their values
are skyrocketing. The increase in value is largely
because they are becoming more and more efficient
at exploiting their fans. Leagues are gradually finding ways to profit
from fans over the
internet with paid
streaming services.
They are earning
increasingly valua bl e t e l e v i s i on
rights deals as television networks grow increasingly desperate for a steady stream of live content to
attract viewers.
So long as fans remain irrationally enamored
by their favorite teams, the teams will continue to
exploit them. Perhaps that is part of the fan experience. Fans love nothing more than to complain about
team ownership, even if the public outlets for complaints tend to be owned by the same corporations
as the teams themselves. The only way to prevent
“No other business is able to disregard customers to the degree
that sports teams are able to.”
ê Photo credit: Maple Leafs Hotstove
such exploitation would be a system in which the
fans themselves owned the teams. Such arrangements are not unheard of. The Green Bay Packers
are owned by residents of the small town of Green
Bay, Wisconsin, and similar arrangements exist
in European soccer. However, as values increase,
such arrangements become less likely and corporations are more likely to be able to amass the money
required to buy a team.
The reciprocation for the unwavering commitment of fandom is not limited to exploitation—it
often goes to the extreme of abandonment. Sports
teams, pillars of civic identity, often move to different cities where owners expect that they can be
more profitable or where they are able to convince
the city to finance a new stadium.
Through it all, the fans remain. We enjoy the
emotional highs and lows, the process, and the disappointments. We relish the successes and quickly
move on to hoping for the next one. Sports fandom
is irrational, but that’s what makes it enjoyable. Fans
know that they’re likely going to be disappointed in
the end, but want to be there just in case they aren’t,
and they want to enjoy the competitive moments
along the way.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I n