sportsfanIQ

As the Jets stunned the San Diego Chargers 17-14 on Sunday, thus propelling them into an AFC Championship clash with the Indianapolis Colts, I was reminded of my number one sports' philosophy: when you don't have a rooting interest in a game, and live within 45 miles of a particular team, you have little reason not to support that team when they are making a run at a title.

In 2007, I had a sports' dilemma of deciding between cheering for a historic witnessing of a Patriots' 19-0 season, or a hometown championship shocker for the New York Giants.  I chose the latter and was rewarded with one of the most memorable Super Bowls ever.

Now, just two years later, the 2009 New York Jets are officially vying for my fan hood, if only temporarily.  

Before I support my position, allow me to rebut any claim of "jumping on the bandwagon."  Because according to my definition, jumping on the bandwagon consists of pretending to understand forty years of disappointment.  

I shall not even begin to make such a naive stance. 

Instead, it's my belief that, as a fan, witnessing your team capture a championship is exhilarating and should be felt by all.  I'm not attempting to live vicariously through a Jets' Super Bowl victory; I only intend to pool my energies together with the diehards in the hopes of bringing something magical to their lives.  

As for the J-E-T-S, who have the unfortunate shared-occupancy lifestyle, there are many that have hatred for their fans.  

Why?

To those that do, do you honestly feel your methods of celebrating are any more sophisticated, or humble than others?  I'm here to inform you that they are not.

Sure, there's the exception to every rule, but as a majority, all fans are obnoxious in their own way and probably hated on some level by any opposing counter.  It's every fans' right. (And for that matter, every fan has the right to root for a local team for the sake of wanting to cast jubilation upon them.) 

Even as a Yankees' fan, I know the arrogance that exudes from the pores of 55,000 New Yorkers as a Boston Red Sox takes the field at Yankee Stadium.  Sports are about passion and subjectivity; I'm not denying that.

I am, rather, requesting that as a passionate sports fan, you remove your guard and cheer for your local fan base as if it were your own.  I promise it'll be worth it.

But here's the key to maximizing the experience:

Don't pretend to be one of the crowd.  Just stand afar from the pack, yet still engulfing your emotions in the battle. 

Perhaps Jets' fans do not want your support.  Fine.  But offer it anyway.  If you're at a bar with a friend who happens to be living and dying with every play call, slap him a high five when his team does well.  Don't, however, offer commiseration when his team doesn't.

I've had good fortune with my sports' interests.  And for that, some might argue that it's easy for me to lay such a ludicrous expectation on others. 

If that's the case, then so be it. 

But I'll admit to one secret.  Prior to 2004, it was my feeling that even a Boston Red Sox fan should have the satisfaction of being overwhelmed with the joy of a title. (For the record, though, I never thought they should be treated to two.)

So regardless of if your team wins nothing in twenty years, or three in four, do the right thing. 

For every enthusiastic sports fan that hopes this year's the year his team will bring it home, root for them. 

For the guy you grew up with, the one you haven't seen in fifteen years but always could remember his fan hood, root for them. 

For the guy you see around town sporting the worn out local hat, root for them.  

For the couple who own season tickets, tailgate to every home game, and raise their children to one day do the same, root for them. 

For the elderly fan that waves the sign that reads, "Now I can die in peace," root for them. 

For the grown men who plan on crying when their team finally wins it all, root for them. 

Come this Sunday, even if you believe the Jets, Colts, Saints, or Vikings have little chance in their respective games because you do not bleed the colors they wear, but live within ear shot of their battle cries, root for them. 

Frankly, what do you have to lose?