Foundations of fanaticism

A glimpse into the mind (and madness) of the sports fan

Sarah L. Stewart
November 21, 2007

For Denver sports fans, the month-long stretch from mid-September to mid-October had more peaks and valleys than the drive from there to Vail.

On Sept. 16, both the Colorado Rockies and the Denver Broncos won a home game. The similarities ended there. In the case of the rising Rockies, it marked the first of 21 wins in 22 games, a streak that would lead to the team’s first World Series appearance. For the fan-favorite Broncos, it marked the last win before a three-game slide that would, at one point this season, place them three field goals away from 0-8.

What ensued poses some interesting questions about the psychology of the sports fan. Coors Field, which at times during the regular season sat half empty and was overtaken by rival fans, overflowed with purple and black. Invesco, on the other hand, rained boos during a 41-3 loss to San Diego on Oct. 7.

So why do some fans stick by their team, win or lose, while others head for the fair weather? What constitutes a “real” fan? And why do we care so much?

Dr. Nancy Spencer, an associate professor at Bowling Green State University and past president of the North American Society for the Sociology of Sport, has some insight into the sports fan psyche through her own experience cheering on Cleveland’s professional teams.

“I think you form an identity where you feel like some of your identity is based around how that team does,” Spencer says. “You invest emotionally.”

That investment is partly responsible for the boost diehard fans get following a victory, as well as the dejection they feel after a loss, Spencer says.

This season hasn’t been easy for Broncos fans like Kristian Slaugh, a 15-year resident of Breckenridge whose office is decorated with autographed photos of various players.

“It really takes a toll, seriously,” Slaugh says. “It hits home pretty hard when we have losses.”

Look closely, and there’s something telling in Slaugh’s comment: his use of “we” instead of “they” when referring to the Broncos.

“Sometimes people become enmeshed with a team,” says Dr. Richard Lustberg, a New York-based sports psychologist. “They think the team is them.”

That helps to explain the toll that defeat takes on the most devoted fans.

“People understand losses within their own losses,” Lustberg says. “The reason people identify so closely with it is because they’ve gone through wins and losses in their own life.”

"Real" fans
Much as it pains him, Frisco resident David Leach thinks seasons like this one can be good for the Broncos.

“It kind of weeds out the bandwagoners,” says Leach, who has held season tickets to the Broncos since 1993. His disdain for the bandwagon fan is evident.

“They’re not really behind the team, they’re just behind the latest shiny thing,” Leach says. “They’re not really fans.”

Few could call Leach anything but a “real” fan. The 50-year-old wears a Broncos jersey — on a Thursday. He flies to Kansas City each time the Broncos play an away game against the Chiefs, even though this season’s victory was the first for the Broncos there since 2002. And when asked why he’s so devoted a fan, he’s momentarily lost for words, before coming up with this: “I bleed orange and blue.”

Fans like Leach “feel like they’re a better fan than others,” Spencer says. “It’s almost like (they feel) they should be rewarded.”

So then what is it, for Leach, that makes someone a true fan?

“It’s an identity. They’re family,” he says. “You’re not just a team I follow, you’re a part of my life.”

The Rockies’ recent run brought out plenty of fans that wouldn’t fit Leach’s definition.

“So many people could care less about the Rockies, and then all of a sudden everyone’s a Rockies fan,” says Slaugh (who, by the way, attends opening day for the Rockies every year and went to all but one of the home playoff games).

“There’s a certain pride in, ‘I was there when only 7,000 people went to the games,’” Spencer says. “There’s a certain expectation that fanhood brings.”

But the baseball team’s sudden popularity doesn’t bother Joseph Dawson, an original Rockies fan who grew up in Colorado and now lives in Phoenix.

“It’s been so many years (since) they put out a product that was worth watching,” says Dawson, who watched about 120 games on television this past season and flew to several others. “I think a lot of bandwagon fans are really just old fans coming out of the woodwork.”

Raising the bar
Now that those fans are back, the Rockies face the challenge of keeping them. Once a team has attained — or at least, as in the Rockies’ case, approached — the pinnacle of their sport, they risk becoming victims of their own success.

If a team has raised fans’ expectations, like the Broncos did with back-to-back Super Bowl titles a decade ago, anything less tends to anger fans.

“Denver fans, if it’s not going like the Elway era, it’s just ‘boo, boo, boo,’” says Slaugh, who attended the San Diego game and stayed through the fourth quarter. “I can’t stand it. It was just despicable.”

The booing, Spencer says, is “revealing the expectation level that they have” — and the frustration that the Broncos have yet to meet those expectations this season.
Though Slaugh admits disappointment — he had the highest hopes for this season than any other since the late ‘90s — he hasn’t resorted to booing. And if the Broncos never won a game, would he ever abandon them?

“Never,” he says. “Not till the day I die.