It's Like That, and That's The Way It Is: Life in the Cheap Seats

"It's cool to be the player, but it sucks to be the fan." - Eminem, Rock Bottom

What's the longest unit of time measurement in the sports world?

Answer: "Next year."

An off day is a long time in the season (especially after a loss), but next year is an eternity. There is no "we'll get 'em tomorrow", just the waiting. And there's no $12 million per year salary to lean on while we wait for next year.

It's a hard-knock life for the average sports fan.

Sitting in the shadows

Open the sports pages, and the first thing you see is the latest news on the pro teams. What the score was, who scored how many points, who fouled out, what coach got ejected, who was the hero and who was the goat.  "Complete analysis," promises the paper.

Funny how they hardly ever interview the fans.

Even as the players sweat it out on the field of play, the fans are hanging onto every moment in the stands. Powerless to physically affect the outcome of the game, they wish and pray, scream and cry, and hope against all hope that "their boys" can pull it out in the final seconds or the last at-bat.

Sounds like a better interview than what Joe Benchwarmer has to say.

All give, no returns

Think about it like this: in this country, the taxpayers are allowed to vote on who is elected to a public office.

Have you ever heard of the fans being given the choice of who their favorite team's new GM will be? Or the head coach? Or even the backup catcher, maybe?

On average, going to a White Sox game costs me about 40 dollars. That's the price of a decent lower deck ticket, a hot dog and soda, fries, and a couple of trips to the speed pitch machine in center field. Seems like I'm putting good money into the system.

But when the Sox needed a new center fielder, I did not receive a phone call or a paper ballot. I found that odd.

Funny how we pay all that money and never get a thank you.  At least, not until Fan Appreciation Day.

Loyalty

I'd say the hardest thing about being a fan is not watching your team lose, but losing your team.

Ask Sonics fans in Seattle how they feel about hearing the constant rumors of a move to Oklahoma City. Ask old-time Baltimore fans how they felt when the Colts bolted for Indy. Ask Sox fans how they felt when the team was threatening to move to St. Petersburg.

Watching your team win is the second-hardest thing to watch. Of course, there is joy in the winning, but you know in the back of your mind that it has to end sometime. Watching the end of a winning streak stings just a little bit more.

But as fans, we've made our bed and most of the time, we're proud to lie in it. We buy the merchandise and show it off: buttons, pins, bumper stickers, posters, caps, hats, jerseys, t-shirts, and those posterboard signs at the game. Everyone at work or school has to know; "I support ______ without equivocation and don't you forget it."

...And yet, life goes on

It's a tough life for a fan. We support the team through thick and thin, feast and famine, sunny days and rainy ones. And our reward is rising prices, corruption, and, if you live in Chicago, years of failing to win the big one. It seems like the Windy City has become the Chris Jericho of professional sports.

Yet and still, we come back every year. Sure, the attendance numbers might decline, but the fans still show up to back "their boys." It's just a part of who we are as fans. It's a part of who we are personally.

The Sox and Cubs are both in first place at the time of this article. Sports Illustrated made the popular choice of the Cubs being the World Series champion, and the White Sox are playing solid baseball as of late.

However, if things hold true to form, both teams probably will falter somewhere along the line. And even though it serve as a bitter reminder of the unfortunate past, we'll sing that oft-repeated line of hope.

Wait 'til next year.

Until next time, keep waving the Pennant.