Lou Pickney's Online Commentary
Indiscretion
Sunday
January 18, 2004
"She could feel the ocean foam rise
She saw its ragin' glory
But he had always told the truth, lord, he was an honest man..."
-Looking Glass "Brandy (You're A Fine Girl)"
Sports, by its very nature, is one of those special categories that bring out the best -- and the worst -- in people. Men who normally are as emotional as a cinder block wall become passionately animated over something as trivial as a holding penalty. It brings friends and communities together, allows school graduates to retain a piece of their youth by experiencing the highs and lows of the athletic experience vicariously through the games played by the modern generation of students. On the professional level, it can turn a teenager into a multi-millionaire, and raise men from mere mortals into beloved saviors whose stories of success on the highest level will be forever etched in the history books.
But it is the emotion that is stirred up, and the capacity to take small talk beyond topics like the weather, that can sometimes turn bad. When it comes to sports, there are also cynical takes that can creep up. Especially against teams or individuals who achieve high levels of success. Believe me, as a Yankees fan I hear about this all the time. Look, I like the Yankees, and I understand why under baseball's unfair economic system that many fans would root against the Yankees. But I really don't need to hear this explained to me anymore. That's the team I support, and I don't support the system, and I really don't want to hear someone's monologue trying to errantly connect the two. For the 30th time, or whatever it is. Please, give me a break here.
But, in the grand scheme of things, I do understand the angst felt toward the Yankees. I cheer against the Lakers (as a Spurs fans, you should expect nothing less). And that was even before the Lakers signed the All-Star asshole Karl Malone. But I don't hate them.
However, on what would seem to be the opposite end of the spectrum is the case of Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts. I grew up in Nashville; my Grandparents (on my Mom's side) lived in Harriman for years (which is a little less than an hour west of Knoxville via I-40). So the University of Tennessee was my team of choice on the college level, and naturally I pulled for Peyton Manning while he was there.
When the Colts got Manning in the 1998 NFL Draft, I was elated. The fact that there was any contemplation at all given to Ryan Leaf infuriated me (easy to say in hindsight, and I didn't expect Leaf to self-destruct like Dirk Diggler in the last hour of Boogie Nights, but I *knew* Manning was a sure thing). My favorite college player from my favorite college going to my favorite pro team. Plus, from all indications, Manning is a very well-mannered guy, too. No Karl Malone "I don't know, holmes" incidents here.
As if I needed more motivation to cheer for Manning, I took him in the second round of the keeper draft that my Fantasy Football League held in 1999. It's normally bad business to mix your favorite player with your fantasy team, but it worked out for me in this case (I didn't pull a Nathan Steele and try to draft strictly UT alumni).
I mention all of this because of the intense grief that I've caught for wearing the Peyton Manning jersey the past three Fridays. The first time it was nothing big. My parents got it for me for Christmas, albeit only because I asked specifically (as Titans season ticket holders, they pull for them -- as do I, since they play in Nashville and all -- but unlike me they can't also cheer for the Colts). I know that this violates the Bill Simmons team cheering rules, but so be it. I think I get grandfathered in because of this:
19. Once you choose a team, you're stuck with that team for the rest of your life [unless] you grew up in a city that didn't field a team for a specific sport -- so you picked a random team -- and then... your city landed a team.
But that violates the whole crux of Simmons' motivation for writing the aforementioned column:
Honestly, I just can't understand it. You cannot root for two teams at the same time. You cannot hedge your bets. You cannot unconditionally love two teams at the same time, when there's a remote chance that they might go head-to-head some day.
What am I to do? Anyway, the point here is that my parents also got me a Steve McNair jersey, so now I have both (my Titans road Lorenzo Neal jersey is a bit dated, with him having gone to TWO separate teams since his stint in Nashville). I won't even get into the Bucs factor (with me living in Tampa and all), which is yet another sub-plot. I do own a John Lynch jersey that I bought a couple of years ago (but that I don't wear anymore out of respect to Spice Boy -- and if you don't know why, you don't need to know).
But what I ended up doing was wearing my Manning jersey two weeks ago Friday (January 2). No problems, no snide remarks. The Colts won, so I wore it again the following Friday (January 9). That's when the sharks started circling. I had people at work giving me the business about wearing it. There are a number of ways to deal with the situation (one good one is to give a long, boring story about how and why I started watching the Colts, and the NFL, back in 1987, and usually that gets the hecklers to pipe down and get back to working or whatever it is they're supposed to be doing). In public it's a little bit different. I'm not accustomed to being verbally jabbed (would you start talking shit to a 6'2" guy with a shaved head who you didn't know?) But with sports, the emotion factor kicks in. It's like that hilarious ESPN NFL promo from a few years back where it shows this guy's brain in the NFL pre-season and it shows "football" expanding and "sensitivity" being squeezed out. My explanation doesn't do it justice, but it's fitting for the situation.
This past Friday took the cake, though. At work I heard about it from Ken Snyder (always one to bust balls about sports -- might be time to see if Jon Gardiner can send me some University of Michigan paraphernalia down from Ann Arbor for me to use in, umm, "decorating" Ken's office). Someone (Frank Ender, I think) asked me if I went out and bought the jersey at lunchtime (that actually set me off a bit). But the kicker was over at Autoway Ford in St. Petersburg, where I met up with Bubba to get the new racing Bubba Army t-shirts for BubbaArmy.com. I was loading a box into my Neon when I heard someone say, "Colts suck!" I replied with this intellectual statement: "Those are fighting words!" I figured it was Big Dick from the promo department saying that as a rib or something, but I turned around and it was some total stranger who said it and kept on walking. I guess the bitterness about that Bucs/Colts OT game is still lingering strong here in the area.
|  | | It was a tough day at the office today for Peyton Manning. |
So today the Colts took one in the middle, losing 24-14 to the hated New England Patriots. I was not amused. So what did I get in my e-mail box? A picture from my friend Nimesh Patel (the one shown on the right) of a battered Manning, complete with dirt stuck in his helmet. The e-mail contained one line: Is Manning still the Man????
Yes, these are my friends. Believe me, I heard all about it when the Indians beat the Yankees in the 1997 ALDS (and when the Yankees lost to the Marlins this year in the World Series... even though I don't know any Marlins fans). But it's one thing to hate the "evil empire" of the Yankees and whatever. But to show hate toward the Colts, a small market team doing well with a QB who has put up incredible numbers... I don't get it. But, hey, that's sports.
And, I imagine that Nimesh is still mad about that whole Bucs beating the Raiders thing in last year's Super Bowl. Just like Glenn Brown was mad about the Indians' decades of futility prior to that 1997 e-mail to me where he filled the entire page with GO TRIBE GO TRIBE GO TRIBE (you get the idea on this). But sports is special like that, and it's part of the fun. Even if it does get you the occasional busting.
Much more to write about tomorrow... including the amazing technology of the DVR (Digital Video Recorder), how that has changed my ability to watch movies and TV (and how it could help you, too), and comments on perhaps the most surreal booking on Bravo's "Celebrity Poker" ever.
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