By J. Huang / Yellow
These are my neurotic thoughts and mine alone. Not representative of an entire fan base.
“I want six Browns to be my pallbearers. So they can let me down one last time.” – Scott E. Entsminger, Lifelong Cleveland’s Brown fan’s obituary.
No one knows the agony of defeat quite like a Cleveland Brown’s fan. To start every season 0-0 with hopes to achieve the ultimate goal and to always fall spectacularly short year after year, decade after decade, generation after generation, has become a staple of sports culture. Fan hood to such sports franchises can borderline be described as masochism by outside eyes. The Philadelphia Eagles fan base had similar tendencies.
The 2017 Super Bowl title was the first of its kind for the city of Brotherly Love. And I must say, it came in unexpected fashion. After MVP starting quarterback, Carson Wentz, went down with a torn ACL, back-up Nick Foles stepped up through the playoffs and capped Super Bowl LII with one of the true great performances in the history of the sport.
When the editor of this blog, Alex Spruiell, called me to congratulate me I was still in shock at what happened and wasn’t sure if the game had ended. Deep inside I had this uneasy feeling that the officials would call both teams back on the field and run one more play due to a penalty which would inevitably result with the New England Patriots holding the Lombardi trophy once again as the universe had intended. That never happened. The confetti fell from the sky and four days later 700,000 people filled the streets of Philadelphia as the victory parade made its way down Broad street.
“When you get into the end zone, act like you’ve been there before.” – Vince Lombardi (and anyone who ever coached football)
With all due respect to Mr. Lombardi’s ghost, what if you haven’t been there before?
Not only am I an Eagles fan, but also a North Carolina State University alumnus. Misery is a close friend and success not even an acquaintance. (see NC State Shit: urban dictionary) I’ve never been able to bask in the glory of victory for a 7 month period! Is this how New England Patriots fans experience so often? What do I do with my hands?
How does one manage so much success without becoming a completely entitled asshole of a human being?? I’m not sure I like this feeling. As a matter of fact, I know I don’t. Don’t get me wrong, season after the season the goal is to win every single game and more importantly the last game. But as far as the off-season goes I still prefer to be the bitter loser who has complete faith their team will turn things around next season. I rather be the underdog. I rather be Rocky.
If I was Sports Emperor (fictional being with unequivocal and absolute power over sports) I would have ended American Football after February 04, 2018. That’s a wrap! We’ve done what we set out to do since the inception of the sport in 1892. Everyone go home now, pick up a book, watch a movie, stop banging your heads against each other.
But since my god-like powers have yet to manifest themselves, the world continues to rotate paying no mind to my plans. Another season is upon us and I find myself caring very little about its outcome.
“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” – Dr. Seuss
As you can tell, I’m having a hard time processing this experience and even harder time predicting what will happen next to my relationship with football.
I ask myself: ‘Is it in your nature to be content? To be satisfied? To be happy?’
Most would say the answer is a resounding ‘NO’ for Philadelphia natives. These are just feelings, perceptions and creations of my own mind. This is fact: in 2017 the Philadelphia Eagles won their first Super Bowl. Regardless of how I feel going forward, at that moment in time I was perfectly happy. In that I find peace.