Go, My Favorite Sports Team, Go!

I’ve gotten a multitude of inquiries over the past 3 years as to why I have such a broad range of teams that I support. With every new Twitter follower I get, the question comes again, “How did you become a Mets fan? How do you follow so many different sports? Who’s your favorite? What do you do when these teams play each other?” My dear Twitter friend, @citycynic, told me one day that it would be interesting to write a blog about how I keep up with all of my teams. What better way to put the information out there? I took his suggestion, and here entails the story of my life as a sports fan.

Baseball

The top of my list, the cream of the crop, my true favorite sport. As a child, football was always my cup of tea. It was easy for me to understand, and I could run around the house at two years old, throwing my arms up in the air yelling, “TOUCHDOWN!” I also believed Boomer Esiason was my boyfriend for quite a few years, but that’s a story for another time. Baseball holds a special place in my heart. Don’t get me wrong; I love football. But there’s something about the game, something about the history of baseball that touches me in ways that football cannot. The sounds, the smells, the stories; it envelopes me. Now here’s the fun part.

The Cincinnati Reds. Where professional baseball all began. How could I not have an appreciation for the team that helped to influence the start of what would become an integral part of my life, and hopefully career? I was born and raised in Cincinnati, which is also where I currently reside. I will always, and I mean always, root for my home team. I go to countless games a year and I travel to see them on the road (nine times this season.) There is nothing that could ever come between me and the Reds. I eat, sleep, and breathe Cincinnati baseball. I bleed Reds. If it’s the Big Red Machine, 4,192, Crosley Field, or Barry Larkin, I know it, and I love it.

The New York Mets. Here’s where people start to get confused.

“Aren’t you supposed to have one National League team and one American League team?”

In my world? Never.

The New York Mets are a second love, and very near and dear to my heart. How did I fall in love with such a team, you ask? It’s all in the history. I learned, heard, and read enough about the Mets to wish I lived in the 1960s. I also wish I lived in New York. I feel at home in the big city. I’m a true sucker for an underdog story. The 1960s Mets are a relatable team. They were human; they made mistakes, and in the end they rose above. During a time when New York baseball was immortal, when the players were untouchable, a team arose out of nowhere that people could stand behind and say, “Hey, they’re like me.”

My love for them comes along with my love for one of my favorites to ever play the game; Nolan Ryan. He started his career in New York and made his one and only appearance in the World Series as a Met. If you’re reading this, I’m assuming I shouldn’t have to explain Nolan Ryan; I’m going to assume you already know.

Historically, I know and love plenty about Nolan Ryan, and about the Mets. But why do I love the Mets today? Mike Piazza. I firmly believe that I am not the only person who fell in love with the Mets due in large part to Mike Piazza. I can define my love for the Mets getting stronger through time and section it by labeling the eras as before, during, and after Piazza, although he has never truly left in the hearts of diehards. He is an admirable guy, one hell of a ball player, and a Mets legend.

“What do you do when the teams play each other?”

I root for the Reds, plain and simple. I hate to watch either team lose, and I hate to have to watch them play each other. I love to have both of my teams in the same place at the same time, but ultimately, someone gets the number in the loss column. I will never turn my back on the Reds. I can also never deck myself out in Mets gear and walk into Great American BallPark. I would feel I have done wrong to the team who sparked my love for the sport, and to my hometown. I know I don’t get to see them very often, but it’s no excuse for me to don Mets garb and root against the Reds. I can also never boo the Mets, and not at least clap for a home run. It gets complicated, but I love and support them both the best ways I know how.

Football

I can pick a team and develop rooting interests in the playoffs solely because I don't want to see another team succeed. This is what happens to me a majority of the time because my team is never in the playoffs, and not surprisingly enough, my team is the Cincinnati Bengals.

*Gasp* terrible, isn't it? People will ask me how I can stand being a fan of this organization. I can't. People will ask when I predict things will change in this organization. Never. People will ask when this team will get a clue. They won't. Yet, there isn't a bandwagoning bone in my body. The Bengals have quit me time and again, but I can't quit them. I was raised to love the Bengals and I always will. My hometown, my team, and sometimes it's unfortunate that I'm stuck with them. But I'll never give up on them. I have an ignorant and incompetent owner in Mike Brown, an even more incompetent successor in his daughter Katie, a coach that can't stand his players, players that can't stand their coach, and a quarterback that wants out. I have defense that can't tackle my grandmother and an extremely predictable offensive coordinator. The Bengals sure won't be a successful team next year but they'll have plenty of drama and cat fights to beat out any and all news involving Jenn Sterger.

Hockey

Ah, yes. The Canadian's sport of choice. I'm a huge hockey fan in a non-hockey city. The closest things we have to the NHL since the departure of the Cincinnati Mighty Ducks are the ECHL Cincinnati Cyclones and the NHL Columbus Blue Jackets. Still, this city will never be a hockey town.

Columbus Blue Jackets
My rooting interests here are developed solely from proximity. They're the closest I can get to NHL games, and the only NHL team in the state of Ohio. I love my Jackets, and I love the guys on the team, but I must say they haven't been too successful since their establishment.

New York Islanders
Before you tell me I'm a cursed sports fan, I already know. I'm a fan of the "second-hand" New York hockey team, but I wouldn't have it any other way. If someone told me I had to put the name "Avery" across my back or I couldn't be a hockey fan, I'd have to dismiss the sport. I'm still in love with what a great team this was in the 1980s and what I hope they can be.I don't know that I'll ever see a Stanley Cup in Long Island, but here's to high hopes.

Philadelphia Flyers
They're rude! They're crude! They're Philly fans! I wouldn't call myself any of those, but I would call myself a Flyers fan. If you're not a Flyers fan, you probably hate the Flyers. But I will forever love the Broad Street Bullies. A team with a tough reputation, and a reputation for having tough fans. You hate Chris Pronger, I love him. I'd say my love for the boys from Philly began as a love for team history, and then Mike Richards came along. My favorite player in the National Hockey League. I'll still be a fan long after he's gone.

I'll keep preaching to this city about hockey, and only a handful will understand me, but that's just fine.

I love winter sports, international hockey, and I'll watch the Olympics for hours on end. This may have been just another background piece, but it all relates back to why I love sports, as a woman. I don't think any reasoning I've said here wouldn't be said by any other male fan. Brandon Phillips has a nice smile, the Bengals have awesome striped helmets, and Mike Richards is a decent-looking hockey player who has all of his teeth. None of that matters. These are the reasons that I give to attempt to break the barrier between men and women in the world of sports. I don't like "cutesie" uniforms, I don't believe in pink in sports, and I don't like teams because my boyfriend told me to. It's simple, people. Women not only like sports, but they UNDERSTAND them.

My name is Elise, and I have an addiction.

What's a story without an introduction? It's like coming into a football game in the second half during a huge comeback. The comeback means little to you, because you can't appreciate where the team started.

That's where this blog post picks up; before the comeback. As I've already used a sports analogy, and you've most likely read the title of this blog, it's safe to say you know that my addiction is sports. Statistics are my heroine and the excitement of a rally is what drives me to come back for more. There is something about sports that draws me in. Maybe it's the feeling of being connected to millions of people by the love of one common thing, and the camaraderie it creates. Maybe it's the sense of accomplishment you feel when your beloved team wins, although you have been nothing but a mere cheerleader. Whatever it is, I never want it to go away.

So where did this passionate love affair come from? I have a very "sporty" family. My parents loved the Big Red Machine, my dad is an emphatic Bengals fan, and my aunt knows more sports trivia than is healthy. You could say my family instilled in me a love for sports, but the passion came from following for years and years on end.

The basis of this blog is to reach out to other women that are similar to me, and to help the women who are not, and most importantly men, understand what it's like to be a female not only interested in sports, but works professionally in the sports industry. As much as I want to be treated as an equal, it's something I have to face that 95% of the time, I won't be. There's more to women in sports than admiring uniform colors or taking pictures of a batter's behind in his stance.