A Case For Embracing Bandwagon Fans
As the playoffs begin, a throng of new fans will come out of the woodwork. Instead of shutting them out, make sure to save them a seat.
The Cleveland Browns. The Phoenix Suns. The Toronto Maple Leafs. The Detroit Lions. What do all these teams have in common? Outside of leading their delusional fans on an acid-induced journey to the “promised land”, they've also all failed to capture any postseason (and in most cases, regular season) glory in a very long time. And yet, their loyal fans have stuck around, suffering through some truly unimaginable seasons.
As a die-hard Lions fan, I’ve had ample opportunity (and reason) to jump ship and pick a new team to bleed for. Anyone who’s been a fan of a long-term dumpster fire understands how destructive that fan-team relationship can be. There’s no easy way to console yourself during a winless NFL season, or a 50-plus year championship drought, or a double-digit losing streak. I’m in no way ready to burn my Lions merchandise (I seem to like punishment a little too much for that) but could you really blame me if I did? Other than the pain, suffering, and false hope, how is my blind loyalty being rewarded? What is the team doing to keep that trust alive?
Which brings me to the point of all of this. Is it really that awful if our logos and allegiances wander from time to time?
Most would say yes. Fans that jump ship (aka bandwagoners) are often ridiculed twice — once by their fellow fans for taking the “easy way out”, and a second time by the fans of the new team they’re rooting for, since they weren’t around for the team’s “dark years”. But just because they weren’t there, doesn’t mean they weren’t suffering.
I‘ve been watching basketball since I was a little kid. I grew up in Windsor, Ontario, right across the river from Detroit, and spent my formative years cheering for the Pistons. I was a huge Ben Wallace fan and used to wear the red and blue number three jersey every time I stepped on the court for a pickup game. My move to Ottawa coincided with the beginning of the decline in Piston success, and as the years went on, and the futility continued, I stopped going out of my way to watch the games—I loved basketball, but it just wasn’t fun anymore.
In fact, I didn’t have a “favorite” team for a long time after that. Until, that is, the Raps started putting up Ws’ and became a perennial playoff contender in the East. I sat in front of my television for every minute of the seven-game loss to the Nets, and I remember feeling emotional anguish when we dropped that game seven at home. I have faithfully watched every game I could since and have fumed in anger (I absolutely detest LeBron James, he will never be Michael Jordan) and “waited until next year” several times now. Does this make me a bandwagon fan? How long do I have to cheer for the Raptors until I have lost that distinction?
Those that attack bandwagoners often miss the point. Winning is exciting, winning is fun, and winning brings in those who want to share in the success. That’s how a sport grows, and that’s how a sport keeps the joy alive for fans stuck cheering for franchises that can’t get out of their own way. Sure, ‘winning might not be everything’ but ‘losing forever’ isn’t the answer either.
Think about the Patriots before the dawn of Brady. Or the Cavaliers nonexistence before LeBron came a calling. Remember when the LA Kings made it to and won their first Stanley Cup, that string of success did more for their fan base than the acquisition of Wayne Gretzky back in the 90s. Even Toronto FC was basically a shadow of what they are now before they made back-to-back MLS championship appearances, winning a title. Up until Steph Curry had his breakout season in 2015, he was just another player toiling in obscurity out on the west coast. How many fans do you think he has now? How many of those fans do you think came over from another team or player because of the success Curry was enjoying? And most importantly, how many fans have had their interest in basketball rekindled because of the magic of Chef Curry?
We shouldn’t be smearing these bandwagon fans, we should be encouraging and recruiting them. There is strength in numbers, and as the fan base grows so does the sport and what the league as a whole can accomplish.
So the next time one of your friends gets fed-up with their team and decides to put their hopes in someone else, hand them a spare jersey and invite them to join you on the couch to watch the game. And if you’re the friend being handed the shirt, just follow this one simple rule — don’t pretend like you’ve been there the whole time.
