There once was a man who proclaimed he was a fan. When he saw other fans cheering and shouting for the team, he said “I, too, am a fan” and they gladly welcomed him.
Prior to the next game, all the fans met for a party wearing their team’s colors, but the man did not wear them. The other fans chided him, but he told them he was just as much a fan as they were. They teased him some more, but still accepted him, as he said he was a fellow fan.
When the day of the big game arrived, the man attended the tailgate party, still wearing his usual attire. As the other fans cleared the party to go into the stadium, the man began to leave. “Where are you going?” they asked, “come with us to the game!” “I don’t have a ticket,” he said, and walked away. The other fans were sad, but they had no extra tickets, so they said goodbye and went to the game.
The day after the big victory, the other fans were still celebrating when they saw the man once again. “We’re sorry you couldn’t attend the game; wasn’t it great” they asked? ” The man responded, “I didn’t watch it.” “What!?!” they exclaimed, “were you so angry about not having a ticket that you refused to watch the game?” “No, I just didn’t watch it” he replied, and walked away.
The other fans were perplexed. They debated what kind of fan the man was, and what they should do. The next time they all gathered, they began asking the man about the team. He did not know the players, or the coach. He did not know much about the team’s record or statistics or history. He had some childhood memories of his family being fans, wearing the colors, some big games and celebrations. The other fans were incredulous: “why do you call yourself a fan?”
The man replied, “You don’t have to attend every game, or follow every player, or only wear the colors to be a fan. I can choose to be a fan whether I do these things or not. I can be a fan of the team while walking in the woods, or watching a show on TV, or surfing the net. You create all these rules about ‘who is’ or ‘is not’ a fan, but I am free to choose my own rules.”
The other fans were speechless. One of them asked, “ok, but are you happy when we win? Are you devastated when we lose? Does it matter at all to you?”
The man said, “Why is it so important to you? Sometimes I get emotional, but in the end, no, it’s just not that important, unless I want it to be. I am ultimately the one in charge of my status of being a fan.” And he walked away.
When the fans next gathered, the man came again. The fans did not try to argue with or convince him, for they had nothing to say to him. He could not talk to them about the game, or his favorite players, or how he felt about the officiating, or anything about the team. While he said he was a fan, the other fans had nothing in common with him. Eventually the man came less frequently, and finally he stopped attending all the fan events.
The man felt the other fans had abandoned him. He thought they judged him, and did not accept him as he was. But he knew he was still a fan. He had said so. He alone made that choice, and in the end, that was all that mattered to him.
Deep, Patrick, very deep. You going to have to explain that one to Creatch when he visits in the spring.