ALCS Indians Fans Baseball

Editor’s Note

We probably should have come out with this last week before the Red Sox, Twins, and Cardinals shit the bed in their respective Major League Baseball Division Series.  And we especially apologize to our readers in the New England area. With the Red Sox getting swept by the Angels and the Patriots losing a game they had no business losing to the Broncos on Sunday, our little guide may have come in handy when you were asking why your sports fan had absolutely no desire to feign interest in the goings-on on Wisteria Lane later that evening. (Seriously, does anybody watch Desperate Housewives anymore?  Anybody?)

Well, we’re sorry.  But our motto around here is “better late than never.” So he we are with our handy guide to what not to say to your sports fan while he/she is in a pit of favorite-team-failure inspired despair

1. Do not say “Well, there’s always next year” after a team has been eliminated.  Especially a baseball team.

We sports fans find this insulting largely because we know that you are silently celebrating the fact that there will be no more nights spent watching a grown man live and die with every seemingly unimportant pitch.  We know that this is your day of jubilee after enduring six months of this nonsense.  We know that everything you say at this moment is disingenuous at best and mean-spirited at worst.  And for the love of God, suppress that smirk when you say it.  We will irrationally go from being mad at our team to being mad at you, largely because you are closer and can hear what we are saying. Please, just trust us on this.

2. Do not escalate.  Do not say anything along the lines of “You know that you are not actually a part of the team, right?  You realize that if you stopped rooting for the (fill-in your sports fans favorite team’s name here) tomorrow, there’s not a single player on the team that would know or care, right?”

The short answer is yes, we already know this, but we don’t appreciate your tone.  Deep down, we understand that our love for our teams is irrational and unrequited.  We understand that we are not actually a part of the team.  And we understand that it is silly that we let the performance of a group of men we don’t even know dictate our mood.  What we don’t need is for you to point this out to us.  This will inevitably lead to the same sort of anger shift that we detailed earlier. This ain’t the time.

3. No half-hearted analysis.  “If you were just gonna get swept, it almost would have been better not to make the playoffs at all.”

We can accept this kind of comment from someone who loves our team as much as we do.  But we know that you don’t.  We know that you hate our blind devotion to our betrothed, and that you resent the fact that we at times rearrange our schedule to watch a game, but we will never do that for anything you might want to do.  But what you must understand is that while you were having pretend tea parties with your stuffed animals, we were watching sports.  While you were rearranging your dolls and jewelery, or redecorating your bedroom, we were cheering for our teams.  Make no mistake. This shit runs deep. And we have not outgrown it.  And we never will.  And the sooner you get hip to that, the sooner you’ll dig us (tremendously obscure West Side Story reference).

All and all, we believe that you should go with a modified version of the Thumper Rule … “If you can’t say something nice, or helpful, or on point, or not condescending, then don’t say anything at all.” We still love you.  And the older we get, the quicker we recover from devastating defeats. But you got to let us go through the grieving process. Don’t say that you understand, because you don’t.  Just say that you are sorry, give us a hug, and never bring it up again.  You can thank us later.