I will confess that, when it comes to sports, I am a fair-weather fan. I like basketball but had little interest in the New York Knicks until they made it to the NBA finals in June. I’m barely interested in soccer unless the Canadian team or the Korean team make it at least to the World Cup round of 32. I root for teams when there’s cause to hope and, when they do advance, I’m as joyful and riotous as any fan.
My intermittent fandom used to be a source of sheepishness. It’s easy to feel, or be made to feel, like a fake fan or a poseur. Especially if you’re among ‘real’, lifelong fans. But this year, I’ve learned to embrace fair-weather fandom as a legitimate way to join in with a collective experience. While there will always be someone out there who might grumble about my fan status or try to flex their superior knowledge of player history, I’ve found that most people are just happy you’re celebrating with them – that you’ve come to recognise a team’s greatness.
Jumping on bandwagons is a normal and valuable part of life, really. We all use cues from the people around us to decide when and where to shift our attention. And if, for a brief window of time, we turn that gaze to a sports team we wouldn’t ordinarily focus on, that’s our prerogative. After all, watching sports can be really good for our psychological wellbeing – in part, research suggests, because of the social connection it promotes as we watch along with other fans. I particularly love those moments when a crowd of like-minded fans grows tense, hearts all racing together, until our team pulls through and we erupt into roars. When there’s an opportunity to participate in that shared drama and excitement, we should seize it.
