Female sports fans. We all love ‘em, right? Girls think they’re super cool because they’re smart and know about sports, and guys find them more attractive and appealing to hang out with because they can take them to bars to watch the game. Right? Wrong.
Call me old fashioned, but I like a girl who finds baseball incredibly boring and stupid, because that’s what women really think and anyone that tells you otherwise is probably lying. Watching sports is a man’s game. We drink beer and shout at the TV and high-five eachother after a great play. We endure the suffering of close losses and feel the incredible elation of come-from-behind wins. We are life-long, die-hard, born-and-raised fans. We know when the next game is on, time our lunch break so we can catch the second half, and talk shit to our friends who have opposing allegiances.
Recently I’ve become more aware of the female sports fan, and I don’t like what I see. The San Francisco Giants just completed an incredible run to be crowned World Champions for the first time since moving West from New York in 1954. I’ve jumped on the bandwagon, with no existing baseball team to drop or overlook; I picked up the Giants and found myself legitimately enjoying baseball games for the first time in my life. I’m a Giants fan, but I’m just getting started. At Civic Center, as Brian Wilson closed out game 5, I watched my friend Matt, a lifelong Giants fan, gnaw the brim of his ballcap and rock back and forth on his feet, suffering through the final moments and finally erupting into utter euphoria, passionately kissing his girlfriend, and screaming and yelling like a crazy person in celebration. I was acutely aware of how far apart the two of us, as Giants fans, were. Without having experienced the ups and downs of the past 20 years of Giants baseball, or even the disappointment of last season’s near miss at making the playoffs, I smiled, cheered, feeling good, but rather reserved. My strongest emotions were brought on by seeing all the deserving Giants fans finally taste the sweetness of a championship.
Call me old fashioned, but I like a girl who finds baseball incredibly boring and stupid, because that’s what women really think and anyone that tells you otherwise is probably lying. Watching sports is a man’s game. We drink beer and shout at the TV and high-five eachother after a great play. We endure the suffering of close losses and feel the incredible elation of come-from-behind wins. We are life-long, die-hard, born-and-raised fans. We know when the next game is on, time our lunch break so we can catch the second half, and talk shit to our friends who have opposing allegiances.
Recently I’ve become more aware of the female sports fan, and I don’t like what I see. The San Francisco Giants just completed an incredible run to be crowned World Champions for the first time since moving West from New York in 1954. I’ve jumped on the bandwagon, with no existing baseball team to drop or overlook; I picked up the Giants and found myself legitimately enjoying baseball games for the first time in my life. I’m a Giants fan, but I’m just getting started. At Civic Center, as Brian Wilson closed out game 5, I watched my friend Matt, a lifelong Giants fan, gnaw the brim of his ballcap and rock back and forth on his feet, suffering through the final moments and finally erupting into utter euphoria, passionately kissing his girlfriend, and screaming and yelling like a crazy person in celebration. I was acutely aware of how far apart the two of us, as Giants fans, were. Without having experienced the ups and downs of the past 20 years of Giants baseball, or even the disappointment of last season’s near miss at making the playoffs, I smiled, cheered, feeling good, but rather reserved. My strongest emotions were brought on by seeing all the deserving Giants fans finally taste the sweetness of a championship.
Back to the women. Leading up to the World Series, I found Giants fans coming out of the woodwork, and alot more girls than I would’ve imagined. They suddenly owned Giants caps and Posey jerseys, and expressed their undying love for Brian Wilson. When the series was over and the parade had rolled through, I saw status updates like “We did it!!”. Please.
If you were a real Giants fan, your status would probably be blank, as you’re too overwhelmed to even put into words how great you feel, or read something like this:
“To every media person and semi-fan in the bay area who said defense and pitching couldn’t win a championship, go jump off a bridge. But not the Golden Gate Bridge. We’ve got a parade to plan.
P.S. – Thank you Giants, for the single greatest moment of my life. Edgar Renteria for Governor.”
Just because you can name the two most important players on the team, or understand the difference between a save and a win, does not make you a Giants fan. And attempts to prove yourself a sportsfan smell like efforts to get some extra attention.
No offense to my friends in San Francisco or the lovely ladies in this photo. I’ve enjoyed seeing the excitement this Giants team has ignited, and all the folks showing their support. But girls, it’s ok not to like sports. Trust me: you won’t lose any fans.
Update: I offended some friends with these words, and I’m sorry. There are certainly plenty of die-hard lady sports fans; likewise, girls and guys alike have jumped on this Giants bandwagon. And there’s nothing wrong with it! It’s not my job to police the dedication of fans. I briefly removed the post, but decided to leave it here because I wrote it and for some reason I enjoyed writing it. Please express yourself in the comments below.
Update: I offended some friends with these words, and I’m sorry. There are certainly plenty of die-hard lady sports fans; likewise, girls and guys alike have jumped on this Giants bandwagon. And there’s nothing wrong with it! It’s not my job to police the dedication of fans. I briefly removed the post, but decided to leave it here because I wrote it and for some reason I enjoyed writing it. Please express yourself in the comments below.
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