The Pathology of NBA Fandom And How I Became A Memphis Grizzlies Fan On January 5th, 2010

NBA basketball is different. I have no real allegiance to a certain team from birth (which is in contrast to the NFL team most of us claim…I contend that a majority of NFL fans have been a fan of that team from their early childhood). I think alot of NBA fans are the same as me. The team they now root for hasn’t been their team since birth. This is probably becoming more prevalent as relocating to find employment is more of a norm. I guess some fans do grow up with an NBA team that their family is heavily invested in and thus stick with that team their whole life, but in the NBA I think that happens less so than with the NFL or MLB.

So, if you buy my premise that the NBA team most of us cheer for isn’t tattooed on our psyche from birth, what happens when an NBA fan moves? Do they stick with the team they have been rooting for from their former home city, or do they adopt the new team from their new city? The head writer on this blog wasn’t always a Memphis Grizzlies fan. He’s been a fan of many NBA teams. While he has moved from city to city, his team has changed (don’t hold it against Chip that he was once a Mavs fan, we all mess up sometimes in our lives….hahahaha).

NBA teams turn over their rosters and coaching staff fairly regularly. Most NBA franchises don’t stick with the same system and philosophy over time. This leads to most NBA teams looking entirely different over, say, a 5 year time span. There isn’t much consistency. That is in contrast to football. NFL teams, sometimes regardless of coaches and players, can play the same style of football for sometimes decades at a time. I think this can help fans identify with that team even if they move away from that city. 10 years later, Steeler fans, for instance, still see a similar team, and even if they move 1000 miles away, that makes it easier to stick with that team.

I bring up the nature of being an NBA fan in relation to moving from city to city because I recently moved. In fact, I’ve moved twice in the last 6 years. Both times to an NBA city.

via What Happens When An NBA Fan Moves to Another City? | 3 Shades of Blue.

Zach Lawrence with what I consider to be a must-read on the ambiguous nature of NBA fanhood.

This post outlines a ton of reasons why the idea of being a fan is so torturous for me. It also provides me an opportunity to talk about a question I get asked a lot. “So who’s your team?” In the past six months, I’ve been described in comment sections as a Grizzlies fan, a Blazers fan, a Bulls fan, a Bobcats fan, and of course, the infamous Bill-Simmons describing me as a Bucks fan incident. Like Zach, I grew up in an area without an NBA team. And like Zach, my collegiate and NFL fandom is explicitly unshakable.

I’m a third generation Chiefs fan (yeah, yeah, rub it in. We kicked ass in the 90′s regular season…sigh), and I live and die with that team. I’m a proud Mizzou graduate. I’m a bad baseball fan. I just am. I can accept that. But the NBA is different.

Because the league was hardly ever shown except Sundays on NBC when I was a kid, I became a fan through friends, watching Sportcenter, trading basketball cards, and following box scores. God, how I loved box scores. My dad was perplexed when I’d wait impatiently for him to get done with the sports section so I could grab it, tear it open past the high school and college sections straight to the back box score section and pour over the numbers, shouting out players I liked, always leading with me somehow turning every Alonzo Mourning game into an accomplishment. “Well, he only shot 4 of 12, but he made 10 of 11 free throws! Wow!”

The Rockets were the team that made me fall in love with the league, but they didn’t stick. The Hornets were a favorite because of Mourning, but when he moved to the Heat, I was confused. The league was so player-centric for me, I didn’t know how to adapt. Should I just drop the Hornets? They weren’t that interesting to me without Zo and I struggled to embrace the Heat, though I rooted for them in the playoffs.

(By the way, you want to know where the underdog complex comes from? Try rooting for the guy Shaquille O’Neal overshadowed his entire career. Watching him win a title as a backup to Shaq was bittersweet to a degree, and gut-wrenching to another.)

And I wandered. Aimlessly. Because you need time to embrace a team, and every time I’d attach, there was a reason it wouldn’t stick. With Houston most of it was a feeling of bandwagondom, that I understood and despised even as a kiddo. You can’t just jump on when that team wins a championship. At least I couldn’t. I think it’s totally fine for other kids to, but I wanted to be a part of something from the ground up, to go through the struggles and then succeed (exhibit A of “I picked the wrong sport.”) With Charlotte it was Zo leaving, with the Heat it was that I’d already abandoned Charlotte and felt like I was cheating on them. There were others. Loved Payton and Kemp’s Sonics. Loved KJ’s Suns. Loved that Kings team in the early 2000s.  Loved 7SOL. But nothing took.

I wouldn’t describe myself as part of the “liberated fandom” movement. I love the league. I really do. For as much as I complain about its big-market-bias, for it’s inconsistencies and disappointing results, the game itself is incredible. There’s something very particular about NBA fans (which is why it’s such a niche sport, genius, Matt). It’s so much easier to be a college fan. The “effort,” the “heart,” the “emotion” are all so much more prevalent. But if you’re an NBA fan, you look at those things and immediately think “Well, yeah, they have to be emotional, because they’re not as good. ” The ball’s just better, and when someone really starts to watch the game, they start to understand that. Paroxi-wife will still always prefer college, but at least now she’s watched enough to be able to say that no, the pros are much, much better at what they do, and that the reason it comes off as slow is because of it’s relative nature. Going to a game and seeing it live how fast they are is a revelation.

And I love so many things about the league. Those rare random Tuesday nights in the Winter when an underdog team does knock off the Lakers. Watching two rookies go at one another. The ridiculousness of two bad teams playing each other. Development, hustle, precision. It’s a game of shine and glory, and I love every second of it, and while it makes this whole blogging thing that much harder, it also gives me more to think about, more to write about, more to enjoy.

Still, I have wondered a lot about what it would be like to embrace a team. After numbers recently came out listing Kansas City as the least economically viable market in contention for expansion due there only being one and a half professional franchises in the city (take your pick on which one is .5. Maybe they’re both .75 at this point), I’ve given up on Kansas City. Memphis is always there, closest to the town I was raised in, small-market, I even like the logo. And yet I still can’t feel like it’s mine. But there are days, tons, where I’d love to have one team to write about, one team to focus on. To know what it’s like to have it matter when your team wins in the NBA. Doing positional breakdowns, stat analysis of how players do in different contexts, the things which I can only dip into currently, because, you know, I’ve got 30 kids to watch here. It sounds like a lot of fun.

It’s very likely that I simply take fanhood too seriously, partially influenced by the family ties I have to the one sports organization whose laundry I bleed for. It’s what causes me to despise the bandwagon faction that so dominates the majority of fans. The idea that you can choose to care about sports, to claim to be a really dedicated fan, simply because they’re awesome right now is disgusting. It belies an insincerity that is found too often in how we approach life. I’ve got no issue with the father that takes his kids to see Kobe and the Gang because they’re great right now, and who’s nothing more than a casual fan. I have issue with readers, talk-show callers, loud, obnoxious people usually wearing a Yankees cap and repping the team when it’s clear they weren’t around for the Tyronn Lue era. And the same goes for Cavs fans, and in six years, I’m sure I’ll feel the same about the Knicks fans talking about the proud tradition of the Knicks. I didn’t mean to take such a negative slant, but only to try and explain why I’m such a ‘hater.’ We’re blessed to be able to care about things, to have time, money, energy to devote to sports. And that passion is something you can’t explain to those who do not have it. It’s not an exclusive thing to sports. There are a million things (movies, books, television, music) that we throw ourselves into, that we revel in the emotion of. There’s zero difference between the thrill of hearing a band you adore launch into your favorite song live and the rush of adrenaline for Blazers fans when Roy hits a last-second jumper. It’s an expression not only of our personalities, but is something that is uniquely, and brilliantly human.

And that in part makes me hypocritical, out of an entirely overthought and wankalicious subtext of sports stoicism. I haven’t earned a team of my own, so I won’t latch on to the most convenient one for me. But I’ll still criticize other fans for their behavior. When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so hot. I find myself thinking about what I’ll do when I have kids. Because if they do take an interest in the sport they see their Dad constantly slipping away to watch after their bedtime, they need a team. I wouldn’t want them to wander the NBA landscape a fan nomad like me. Not that it’s unfortunate, but c’mon, there’s nothing better than seeing those kids on a winter mid-week game dancing in the aisle during a timeout. Plus I’m going to teach them never to cheer for ‘FREE STUFF!’ and to scream “BALL DON’T LIE!” at completely inappropriate times.

Returning to the original article, I was struck by what perspective writing this little website has given me on the NBA’s fans. I’ve worked to understand the game as much as I can. I’ve tried to understand the players better, not only from afar but up close and personal. I’ve studied stats, and researched history, read books and attempted to at least always approach this hobby/gig/whatever with a zest for the idea that there’s always something you can learn about this game, from this game.  But what I’ve learned most is about the league’s fans. That’s something the blogs really give you that other mediums can’t. League videos are driven through PR-friendly pastures. Beat writers are more prone to try and connect with the two extremes, the aforementioned casual-fan father or the lunatic painting his chest  and getting a Nuggets tramp stamp.  They miss out on the everyday passion. If you haven’t, read a game comment thread for a team you don’t know at one of the sites.  You’ll read emotions and discussion. You’ll be able to recognize immediately personality quirks. The difference between a Blazers Edge thread and a DreamShake one is startling. Each site has its own tone, but you’ll also notice a difference between fanbases. And there are so many good ones. Even Forum Blue and Gold has a great running commentary of interesting discussion, with nary a troll around.

It’s probably partially a pondering of my own mortality as I get older. In college, I was a student of a line of thought called Terror Management. Long story short, as a living being, we have an instinctual drive to continue our mortal existence. As humans, we’re uniquely aware of our own mortality. This creates cognitive dissonance and in attempt to alleviate that dissonance, we strive to create meaning in our lives. And the closer we come to being shuffled off this particular mortal coil, the more we cling to those things that provide meaning. Religion. Patriotism. Political ideology. Hobbies. Fandom. I used to think it was a dark view of humanity that we were so easily manipulated by the nasty, brutish, and short experience we’re given from birth. But since then I’ve come to find it comforting.It’s the source of who we are. It’s where the best things about us start, and it’s a way for us to fight against the terrible delicacy with which our lives are framed. And I’m missing out on part of that if I’m not devoted as a fan of a team in my favorite game.

And that leads me to Tuesday night.

I have a complicated relationship with the Memphis Grizzlies. I loved the mid-00s teams that made the playoffs (only to be eradicated). It’s why Gasol turning on the city was so disheartening. And I supported the Gasol trade. Would I have rather it been anyone else? Sure. But they needed to trade Gasol. The objective in any rebuilding situation is to move your biggest asset. And when I first saw Marc Gasol last year, I knew they had something special. I loved last year’s team, as terrible as it was. I was instantly driven to OJ. I nicknamed Marc The Wendigo. And even though they fell apart and wallowed in misery, I liked the core pieces. I was excited to watch the team grow.

Then came the summer.

They traded for Zach Randolph, who had redefined Untradeable. They drafted the Pogo Stick with a Twitter Account, and I am still livid over passing over Tyreke for him. They signed Iverson and brought him off the bench when they knew he’d freak out. They were a disaster. I was so upset, I broke up with them. I thought it was over.

So for me to join now certainly seems like a bandwagon move, doesn’t it? Even with the history? It’s entirely possible and I’ll just have to live with it. But it’s not the winning streak. They could have lost their last ten and I would still love this team. And there are contextual factors. My parents are moving to Memphis. It’s the closest NBA city to my hometown (by about 30 minutes- Almost, OKC!). I’ve been described as a bear. I like the color blue. They drafted DeMarre Carroll out of Missouri my alma mater when I was sure no one was going to draft him. My folks know I like NBA gear and picked me up gear (see? I’m preloaded!) for Christmas. But it was mostly the team. I noticed early that they were talking to each other. Body contact is huge on timeouts. If guys are putting their arms around one another when talking to each other, that’s a sign, rather than walking quietly to the sideline (hello, Wizards). They were yelling and screaming and working all the time, even if their defense is lost most of the time. And then there’s Z-Bo.

Look, forget about the December-January performance in the box, averaging about 25 and 15. Forget about the effort. He’s being a teammate. I expected him to show up, work when he wanted, do what he always does and then go get in trouble. He’s not only playing hard, he’s teaching Marc Gasol. On Tuesday night, he tweaked his knee chasing down a rebound. After picking himself up, he ran down the floor, posted, got the ball and drew a foul. He hit 1 of 2 and at the next break went to the bench limping. I expected him to just sit. He stopped by Lionel Hollins and was pointing out things Hollins needed to know.It was just a real simple, real small moment. But for Zach Randolph? That’s huge.

Conley’s getting it but is still not the answer. Mayo’s incomplete (but freaking awesome). Gay is not only probably going to be gone somewhere else next year, but is maddening in his inconsistency. The bench is shakey. Their defense sucks. They’re in a small market no one cares about and that everyone wants to move. In short, they’re my kind of team.

It wasn’t a “prove it to me” win over the Blazers. It was that I sat down to watch that game and could not help myself. I was screaming, yelling, jumping. I was appalled at every call that went against “my” team and completely supportive of the late anti-star call on Brandon Roy that should never be called in this league given precedent. I firmly believed that team was going to lose, down five with a little over a minute left. But it was already done.The win just cemented it, the firming belief brought by the joy of a simple victory over an injury depleted team who if they had either of their first two centers would have beaten Memphis by 14. But they didn’t, and they didn’t. This team has hung together and finds itself above .500, and undefeated in 2010.

I’m a Memphis Grizzlies fan.

Don’t worry, I still love the league and take great joy in everything about it. It won’t change the site or how I adore the potential in players or great playoff games. I’m still an NBA fan. And I fully expect Michael Heisley to drive this team into the ground and for them to move to Anaheim or San Diego, the ultimate cosmic flipping of the bird for my support of the move to OKC for the Sonics. But for now, I’m a Memphis fan. This should be fun. It’s about time.

My name is Matt Moore, and I’m a fan of the Memphis Grizzlies.