Currently Listening to: Wild Beasts – End Come Too Soon
There’s a power to sports fandom; what we colloquially identify as bandwagon fan isn’t just half of some simple dichotomy measured through team success, but is, in all levels of significance, measured and separated by blood and pain. We don’t hate bandwagon fans because they share our joy, we hate them because they forgo any measure of the hurt we feel, the blood and tears we spill. I will forever bleed the Green and Gold, and when we win, I am the happiest man alive; when we lose, I am borderline suicidal.
Right now Tuscaloosa openly bleeds crimson. Dear God, it openly bleeds.
Sometimes, sport becomes the only thing that seems real, and while I cannot personally attest to or even remotely emote the tragedy Tuscaloosa goes through right now; I have no doubt that nothing will become more tangible than sport. It’s more than just an escape, but a vessel for the soul. Where winning becomes a temporary nirvana of memories and joy that is undoubtedly as close to heaven as any person will get to before death. The closest Crimson fans can get to their loved ones.
I am not a Nick Saban fan; not even close. I just value loyalty too much for me to appreciate any aspect of him. And while Alabama is great in more than just one sport; it truly is a one sport town, and that’s Saban’s sport, and for that, I support him wholeheartedly. I am on the Crimson Bandwagon, not because I will simply cheer when they win, but because I know it will hurt even if they do. That the facade of joy, while simply a facade, may be the best cure for Tuscaloosa next January. It might be best that we not have professional Basketball or Football next year; I know I have something to support, something I can be truly invested in, something that, with all my might and heart, will cheer to success.
Roll Tide.
