Showing posts with label Colorado Rockies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Colorado Rockies. Show all posts

The Eleven Stages in the Life-Cycle of a Sports Fanbase

>> Tuesday

This one reads like a bad Bill Simmons column, but bear with me.

Hearing the Rockies fans kick ass til their dying hour Sunday night--screaming through the ninth inning as if they were the ones just outs away from a title--had me wondering: What makes them so positive? They were down 3-0 in the series and trailing in the game, facing the almost-hopeless prospect of rallying against Papelbon.

So why were they so boisterous when so many other fans might have given up?

Well, out of this line of thinking, I came up with a hair-brained theory. I think all sports fanbases cycle through these following eleven phases from the birth of their franchise to its indefinitude. Teams fluctuate between these phases as success or failure dictates, sometimes moving up the scale, other times moving down.

Of course, these are totally made up and mostly written during my lunch break at work, so don't hold me to any standards of coherence or intelligence, please.

1. Infancy

During infancy, the fanbase had that childlike sense of wonder--not knowing what's to come, not really caring. They have no expectations because they don't know what to expect or when to expect it. This stage lasts through the first couple years of a franchise (or a new league) before superstars emerge or major free-agent agent signings take place.

Going with the example of the Rockies, even though they acquired Andres Galarraga prior to the inaugural season, they didn't expect much out of him. (They certainly didn't expect his mind-blowing '93 production.) Their first real free-agent score was Bill Swift prior to '95, which, incidentally, panned out pretty well.

2. Optimism

The fanbase moves into optimism at the first tangible sign of improvement, whether this be the first winning season or the rectification of the team's early flaws.

Again in terms of the Rockies, the '95 season fits this description on both accounts. Not only did they win the Wild Card, but they overcame their pitching woes of '93-'94. Ostensibly, the '95 season was no better, with the Rocks ranking last in the NL in ERA. But adjusted for park factors (i.e. being in way higher altitude), they ranked second.

3. Gratitude

You didn't get the miracle that optimism conjures up with that first whiff of success. But you're grateful nonetheless. Your boys didn't go all the way this year, but you still applaud their effort as they leave the field for the last time on the season.

This stage may be the most wholesome and heartwarming of them all, but it's also the most fleeting.

4. Disappointment

After that initial stride of improvement, you're convinced that better things are ahead. So when the team regresses or treads water the next year, disappointment sets in.

Of course, disappointment is all relative to where the bar's been set. For a team coming off its first winning season, disappointment is missing the playoffs. For a team that's lost in the first round a few times, disappointment is falling short of the championship. And so on.

This phase is sometimes passed over because the team does, in fact, take that next leap immediately. But this is not very typcial.

5. Fatalism / Self-pity

After a few years, disappointment turns into fatalism and self-pity. "We'll never win!" "Why do we always get the bad breaks?" "When do we get our year?" "Why does God hate me?"

Once a fanbase hits this stage, it's hard for them to leave it. Just ask the Cubs or every Philadelphia team. Even when things go right, the fatalistic mind only sees the hardships. And the longer this phase lasts, the harder it is to escape.

6. Guarded optimism

This is the old, "We've seen this before. Well, I'm not getting sucked into believing this time!"

As opposed to plain old optimism, which is positive and forward-minded, guarded optimism is mostly governed by expectations of failure.

7. Belief

The team is finally nearing the pinnacle, and the fanbase finally believes. The longer the fanbase has been mired in fatalism, the later this stage hits. It might not kick in until there's two out in the ninth inning of the World Series clinching game with the home team holding a ten-run lead for some fanbases. For others, it might start with a great first-half of the season.

8. Euphoria

Just as fleeting as gratitude but far more dangerous, euphoria is reserved for the title clinch. It usally carries through the first month or two following the championship, if not longer. Arguably, this should be called the "schmalz phase," since this is the period during which every player's biography comes out in paperback and every fan buys a championship license plate holder.

9. Skepticism / Disbelief

Once the initial euphoria wears off, the fanbase turns its thoughts to what might-not-have-been. As the focus turns toward the next seasons, the definicies that the previous year's team overcame are picked apart and belabored. No one is entirely convinced that last year's team was "for real," nor that they can reproduce their results in the years to come. The pressure to buttress and/or maintain the already talented roster is immense, and management usually obliges.

10. Expectation

This is the ugliest of all the phases. It marks the destruction of innocence, the beginning of the end. Euphoria warps its way to greed, and greed leads to delusion. The championship is no longer an aspiration or a prize; it's manifest destiny. The fans forget that each new season brings new players and a new set of circumstances and fail to see past the uniform colors. Expectation is where sport devolves from object of enjoyment to ugly obsession.

11. Jadedness

Jadedness is the end of the line. It can come about either from an overabundance of winning or simply from too many years of repeat results. The jaded fanbase supports their team--often in record numbers--but they do so coldly, lovelessly. Any sense of wonder or mystery have given way entirely to expectation. Adulation has given way to suffocating scrutiny. There is no joy in winning, only relief, and the anger in losing is violent.


So, kids--Now that we've explored these eleven stages that I've completely made up, what stage is youuur favorite team in?????

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Typical f-ing Rockies

>> Sunday

Unbelievable. Just unbelievable. But am I surprised?

Hell no. This always happens to us. This is so typical of the Rockies. We finally get close, finally get to the World Series, come in winning 20 of 21 and looking unstopable, and just like that, it's over. We're gonna get swept--fucking SWEPT--in our one big chance. After all this waiting, all the years of heartbreak, they go out and break our hearts.

My dad, my grandad before him, now me--When I think of all the heartache this team has put us through over the years, it makes my heart ache. I want to raise my own kid a Rockie fan, but I feel like it would be cruel to put him through what we've been through. Here me and dad are freezing in the stands tonight, so ecstatic to finally see our Rocks in the Series, and four hours later, we're crying in our Coors. Just typical Rockies.

I remember going to games at old Mile High Stadium with dad as a kid. We stuck with them through thick and thin. I remember one year on opening day it had been snowing like a mother all week. Dad and I used to park in the old McGillicutty Carbide factory on 18th and Federal and hoof it to the stadium to save a few bucks. We were trudging through 16 inches of snow on the walk from the lot to the gate that day. They still had the plows on the field during BP. The guys were sipping bullion in the dugout between innings to keep from stiffening up. Also, that was back in the days when Mile High only had the two concession stands, so they ran out of coffee and cocoa in the thrid inning. To keep us warm, Dad used his flint and some hot dog wrappers to build a bonfire out in the left-field bleachers. Man, I'll never forget that...

...Fuck! Down 0-3. I know crazier things have happened, but... Damn! We fell down 0-2 in Fenway because the boys were rusty. Ok, fine. But tonight we had them back in our house, in the thin air, amidst the magic of Blake Street and the mystique of the Rockie tradition. There's no way we could have lost this game. But then we go out and get beat by Yokozuna and Kamikaze and that damned British kid. Man, the game has really changed.

Well, this is it. I'm done with them. I can't believe I'm even saying that, but I'm done with this team.

Damn it! We've gotta win tomorrow night!

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Heeb Watch: NLCS Edition

>> Monday

A few weeks back, I asked, "Why are so many people wondering whether Rex Grossman observes the Sabbath?"

Well, I've been checking the SiteMeter again, and as it turns out, everyone's wondering the same thing about Troy Tulowitzki and Bob Melvin.

Not to be a stereotypin' sonovabitch, but I realize it's kind a big thing when a Jew breaks into the sports big-time. Yet I'm still confused by the incredible fascination. Help a gentile out, anyone?

As far as tonight's game, go Team Tulo-vit-zki. As Paul mentioned last week, the Rockies' fan base really deserves some respect, and as grouchy as I get about feel-good stories, I'm impressed that the Rockies' organization has evidently solved the weirdness of their geography to build a fine team. Part of me longs for the Blake Street Bombers of old, but I know that's a time gone-by, and these new-generation Rocks are just as excellent to watch.

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It's as if I created this story myself

>> Tuesday

Someone alert the queen--Brian Fuentes was stripped of his title as Colorado Rockies' closer!

Excuse me for reveling a bit in someone else's failure, but it's rare that a single story indulges me with such a convenient illustration of so many favorite baseball rants: the overselection of closers in the All-Star Game, the banality of the save stat (as well as that of its more retarded cousin the blown save), the fickleness of bullpen production, the superfluousness of the "closer" title, the profuse stratification and categorization of players on MLB rosters... They're all right there in a tiny purple and black package, personally gift-wrapped for me!

So to you, Brian Fuentes, the player I was most displeased to see on an All-Star roster besides Freddy Sanchez, thank you for being my anecdotal evidence. I truly appreciate it.

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