Sports Fans and the Guy Who Hates Them

In case anyone cares, I DO have the Cubs game on at the bar today. Thank the lord for small miracles. Unfortunately, I don’t have sound thanks to the sudden appearance of 2 billion Louisville fans.

I realize that I have been complaining about fans of college basketball the last few posts, so I wanted to mention that I do love college basketball. But with it being a “down” decade or so for my Missouri Tigers and the only other team I actually follow being just a hair above “so bad it hurts to watch” (I’m looking at you, Illinois), I’ve had a bit of disconnect with this year’s teams. However, what I am fully connected to, mostly because of my drinking problem, is fans in sports bars. 90% of them are annoying on a level that makes me wonder how they function outside the sports bar crowd at all. Some of my “favorites.”

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The Over Clapper Guy
Look, I understand, you LOVE anything Poly Tech does. It’s a given. But clapping for EVERY play is a tad excessive. Clapping should be reserved for high-flying dunks, hand-in-the-face threes, game-tying buckets and timeouts. That’s it. That’s the list. Clapping for every near steal, free throw made (or missed), good pass, 24 second violation or other random event on the court does not need your hand-related enthusiasm. So stop it.

The Someone’s a Big Fan of the Team Store Guy
Here’s the deal. In my humble opinion, you can never own enough team gear. Hats, jackets, shirts, sweaters, figurines, whatever. Problem is, you don’t get to wear it all at once. Rule of thumb. If you look in the mirror and count more than 2 items on your body that show your allegiance, that’s about two too many. A simple shirt or hat does the trick. No one is going to look at you in your team-colored Zoobaz, matching hip pack, sweatshirt, hat and button and think, “Now that guy’s a fan!” What they will think is, “Now that guy’s an embarrassment to himself and those around him.” Moderation, friends. Moderation.

The What Do You Mean the Bar Doesn’t Double As a Day Care Center?…Guy
I get it. The wife let you go out to watch the big game with one caveat, you have to take care of the kid. The problem is, he’s four and he’s kind of an asshole. That doesn’t give you the right, however, to basically make him community property. We’re all here to watch a game or three, not become surrogate parents to your kid. Simply giving him a dollar for Golden Tee is in fact, not what we call parenting. All we ask is that you try to keep him near you and relatively quiet. His constant screaming, chair-kicking and running around like a nut job may fly at home, but at the bar, he’s one wrong move from a misplaced elbow or knee. You’ve been warned.

That’s it for now. Yes, I’m bitter. But, when you spend half your life at sports bars, things start to drive you bat fucking crazy.
Feel free to leave your own “favorites” in the comments.
CUBS RELATED: DeRosa back in Mesa makes me smile. So does another Pie homer. Neal Cotts, however, needs a trip behind the woodshed. Or his papers.

Go Cubs.