Recently, the Reveille published an article which provided a strongly cynical view of the relationship between sports fans and the teams they support.
I don’t have an issue with every point the author raised. Institutional racism does absolutely exist in sports, I agree that sports betting does have a toxic influence on the way viewers engage with sports, and as anyone who saw flames engulfing Philadelphia in 2018 would know, fans often do take their love too far.
But I found one particular line frustrating: “Bro, it’s not your team.”
Of course, I am not a player for the New Orleans Saints. I’ve never played in a true game of football in a stadium or even a high school field. I don’t have a tangible stake in any football team, nor does any fan outside of Green Bay.
But I strongly feel that sports do have meaning and significance for communities, and it is wrong to dismiss them as nothing more than a vacant pastime or an opportunity for gluttony. Sports, and sports fandom, are as much of a legitimate human expression as music, film and painting, and sports have a true power to bring together people across societal barriers.
The year is 2010. The New Orleans Saints find themselves on the precipice of taking home their first Lombardi Trophy. The franchise was, at that time, 43 years old. The people of New Orleans are utterly ecstatic. For 21 years, they watched the team record losing season after losing season, the cruel fate of almost any expansion team.
Then, for another 13 years, they watched them consistently scratch the entrance of the playoffs, only to lose in the first round. Louisiana, similar to the NFL team it hosts, wallowed in mediocrity-to-failure.
Much of the state remained poorly developed, the education system remained at the bottom of any comparative list, and much of the population remained in poverty. Much of New Orleans remained in ruins following Hurricane Katrina, which forced the Saints out of their iconic home in the Superdome.
Despite this, a confluence of good fortune, built up for a few seasons, allowed the Saints to overcome their rivals and take home a single, massive win for the city. And when Drew Brees hoisted the Lombardi Trophy, I dare you to tell any New Orleanian or Louisianian that that didn’t matter.
Sure, it’s a hunk of metal in the shape of a football, and he’s a multi-millionaire wearing a gaudy gold and black shirt. But sports allows us to find rare moments of unity in a world where those are increasingly fleeting.
It allows us to put aside differences, to break barriers, if only just for a few hours. Go into the crowd at Tiger Stadium, or at the Superdome, or even just a Friday night at any given high school. In that moment, the cliques dissolve, the class lines become fuzzy.
Everybody cheers when they win, and everybody hurts when they lose. Is that not real? Is that insignificant? I don’t think so.
Gordon Crawford is an 18-year-old political science freshman from Gonzales, La.