The Written Word
for April 11, 2001

I’ve often wondered what it is in the human psyche that makes us into fans. I can understand loyalty to one’s family – that’s likely some primitive traditional need for protection passed down through the ages. It’s likely an inherited one, rather than learned, though it could be the latter. Again with countries one is probably inherently loyal knowing that’s where he gets protection from enemies – rather the extension of the tribe.

But the emotion is a very strong one – otherwise why would people die for the unit they love?

What is more difficult still to understand is patriotism for an athlete or team of athletes. (Actually, to mix politics with sports, two central American countries once actually went to war over a Soccer game.)

When I was much younger, I was a devout Montreal Canadiens fan. Why? Even though I couldn’t skate and had never been to Montreal I not only loved the team with a passion I hated the Toronto Maple Leafs with even more passion. Why was this so? It was so bad that if a player was traded from the Leafs, or was once a Leaf – like Dick Duff, Gaye Stewart and Frank Mahovolich – I never trusted them and could never really accept them. (Come to think on it, this is probably why I don’t follow team sports much any more – there is too much movement of players not to mention teams themselves.)

My sole remaining sports hero worship is Tiger Woods. When he’s playing, I play every shot with him. When he three putted the 15^th last Sunday in the Masters I didn’t know whether to cry or curse – so I did both. I was a fan of Ben Hogan and didn’t like Sam Snead – don’t ask me why. I liked Nicklaus all right but never really forgave him for destroying Arnie. I didn’t like Trevino or Player much.

I know I’m not alone with these irrationalities. One only has to look at the behaviour of English Soccer fans to know that the ailment is international.

Is it perhaps because we, like a latter-day Walter Mitty, see ourselves in our heroes’ shoes? It must have something to do with this because when Tiger wins I do feel that all who know me should congratulate me. Is that the key, then? We not only cheer for someone, or a team, because we somehow feel connected to them but because it fills a void of accomplishment in our own lives? Am I walking down the 18^th at Augusta with Tiger because I could never get there on my own? Do I take his losses personally because I believe that personally I’ve been hurt? Probably unfairly?

Maybe it’s not a bad thing for, with the exception of the Central American case noted sbove, sports keeps us from each others’ throats. Perhaps on someone else’s playing field or golf course, we are figuratively voiding our frustrations in the sports arena whereas we might otherwise do something of which we might later be sorry.

In the meantime, "You can do it Tiger! Sink it! I’m depending on you!"