Bandwagon fans are the worst, aren’t they? They’re a bunch of front-running, boozed-up jerks who scream “WOOOO” in your face when the team is winning and then disappear during the bad years to leave us die-hards deep in the suck. I hate bandwagon fans so goshdarn much. But I think the reason why they annoy me to the core of my being is that I know that they’re smarter than me.
During this World Series, which heads for a decisive Game 7 on Tuesday, there has been no shortage of bandwagon fans coming out of the woodwork in favor of the Cubs or Indians. But the truth is that bandwagon fans have figured it out. They get to hop from party to party without feeling wounded over your GM mangling another draft pick. They’re your single friend that gets to go out and do whatever he or she wants while we devoted morons drink malt liquor in the tub with our gameday Zubaz still on. I resent these dinks for having the courage to go on endless joy benders.
What does loyalty get you? Martyr points? Those aren’t redeemable. The only people that get off on that are in the same spot and schadenfreude fetishists. I’m a Winnipeg Jets fan and I’ve resigned myself to misery for no sensible reason. I used to live in Winnipeg so I owe it to this local business to succeed. What kind of backwards ass logic is that? The Jets aren’t my family. They’re a thing I give money to in ticket and merch form in exchange for a smug sense of satisfaction on the rare occasion when something goes well.