Monday, May 12, 2008

My Humble Opinion, May 12

Got this tidbit from the Morning News, when they recapped Coach Carlisle's career up to last week:

Wow! There was a fight at the Palace? Geez, shows you how much attention I paid to sports at the time. I think I was still trying to get into football (by following the Lions, cue up Hit Me Hard Hit Me Fast).

That helps explain the police presence at the AAC. Then again, this is a town where the Half-Price Books has two armed guards on patrol. I wish I were kidding.
In a moderate subject shift, I got a question:

What is it with Dallas fans?

My approach to live games is RPL, all the way. Small children are advised not to sit nearby -- I've been raised to be concise in my opinions and the best words aren't always nice ones. When my mother and my sister come to visit, if it's during the season I intend to take them to a game and watch them disown me at least twice before the half. "I don't know this person!" is the phrase of choice.

I try not to be mean, though.

Mostly because it's counterproductive. Home-court advantage means a lot in basketball; who am I to undermine that by being a jerk? I mean, whose side am I on? Insofar as I can contribute, way up in the rafters with nothing but my ticket price and a loud voice, I try and contribute.

I won't say I'm in a minority. I've been to half a dozen games and I've only run across truly toxic fans once. I will say this; said toxic fans were down in the platinum section, where the seats run to about what I make in a week. They were relentless -- and obscene -- in their badmouthing of the players and team. They seemed determined not to have any fun at all. And they, along with about a third of the audience, left about five minutes into the fourth quarter. (To the visible delight of the opposing team.)

That last one is what's sticking in my craw. It bespeaks a profound lack of respect for the players. This is their job; this is what they do. The least you can do is give them the opportunity to do it. All 48 minutes. And if it gets painful to watch, tough shit. That's the flip side to caring passionately about anything, that it'll disappoint you. And if all you're doing is trying to beat traffic, shame on you. To beat traffic, take the train, leave at halftime, or budget a couple hours after the game for dinner or dancing. I'll see you at the Lizard Lounge on their Goth nights.

Or better yet, stay home. Let those of us who want to be here get on with making fools of ourselves and loving it. I was there for the #4 game against the Hornets. My heart broke. I ran out of swear words. There were tears.

But I wouldn't have missed it for anything. Even unto the bitter end.

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