Looking into the Art of the Obnoxious Fan

Jake LivinstonCorrespondent IApril 13, 2009

We all know the feeling. You take your seat at the game, set down your scorecard, and are about to take a sip of your extra large soda when you hear, "Naw, man, I don't see you."

The man in front of you stands up, "Where are you? I'm in," he turns around to check your section number and you smell his terrible body odor, "215. Where are you? Yeah, I'm looking. I don't see you. Look, I'll wave my hand. See if you can find me. 215."

This continues for about five minutes as the obnoxious fan in front of you (let's call him "Stan") tries to find his buddy on the other end of the ballpark.

This scenario may occur at any venue at any sporting event. Obnoxious fans are everywhere, like it or not. One cannot do much to stop their actions except talk to an usher and ask him to remove the fan. But in order for this to happen, the fan must have done something really dumb.

Because these fans are everywhere, why not talk about them? Let's take a look into the intriguing world of the obnoxious fan.

The typical appearance of one of these fans consists of a t-shirt, jeans or shorts, a cell phone being visible, and some type of fan accessory, such as a foam finger or baseball cap.

The foam finger is the ideal product for an obnoxious fan. Foam fingers have no practical use except to obstruct the view of the person sitting behind the person waving it, exclaiming, "We're No. 1!", even if their team is in the divisional cellar.

Some fans frequently stand up, usually at different times than the rest of the crowd. They tell the players that they suck and boo every call that goes against them. The facts that the players and referees cannot hear them nor do they rattle them does not get to the fan's mind.

Meanwhile, the fans behind this behemoth of a fellow squirm around in their seats in attempt to see a clear view of the action occuring on the playing surface. Stan (remember him?) usually doesn't notice and continues to yell at the players and referees.

Stan finally sits down and remains quiet for a couple of minutes before deciding that he needs a beer and a jumbo hot dog. He stands up and, without excusing himself, slowly works his way down the row of occupied seats, spilling a child's soda and stepping on feet. As Stan reaches the end, all of the spectators sitting a row behind Stan and those in his row peer at the scoreboard and see that they missed a big play.

Not much can go worse than this, but the one thing that always does is the obnoxious fan's arrival back at his or her section.

Stan once again slowly works his way back to his seat and steps on feet, but this time he spills his cup of beer all over. The smart fans in his row got out of their seats before Stan came back with his beer.

He then chugs down his beer and loudly chews on his jumbo hot dog, much to the annoyance of those surrounding him. Stan continues to yell, but this time food flies out of his mouth. Everybody in his section is ready to kick him out of the stadium.

When his team scores, he turns around and gives everyone a high five and cheers extremely loudly. If Stan happens to be a fan of the visiting team, he stands up and claps, and tries to bring attention to himself by cheering for the visitors.

His cell phone is put to good use in calling his buddy across the stadium numerous times.

"Hey, man, where are we going to eat after the game?"

"Did you see the price on the beer? Insane, dude?"

"My seat sucks! Any open seats near you?"

"I just saw this hot chick in my row. I bet she's into me. You should come check her out."

Most of the calls aren't of much importance and are heard throughout the section.

The obnoxious fan goes down the row to get another beer a few more times throughout the course of the game and goes to talk to his buddies a few times as well.

By the end of the game, everybody is annoyed. But in some way, they are intrigued by the obnoxious fan.

Sports are unique and have many interesting aspects to them. The obnoxious fan is just one of them. After all, deep down, we love the crazy fans that dress crazily, spill their beers, talk loudly on their cell phones, and yell with great frequency.

So, if you excuse me, I'm going to go paint all of my body, grab my foam finger and my megaphone, and head to the game.