A Bad Name
An interesting piece ran in the Globe this morning concerning those fans that players and radio hosts always talk about when something bad happens. We've all been there, standing at the ballpark waist-high in hyperactive kids collecting autographs like so many pieces of candy while we collect nothing more than dirty looks from the players and waste time to be social before the ball game absorbs all of our attention.
Now I'm not going to lie, I love collecting autographs as much as the next guy. It's always cool to say hello to a professional ballplayer, regardless of who he is, and they look great in the office. Problem is, too many times its not about the love of the game when fans and players meet.
If you've ever been to Cooperstown for Hall of Fame Weekend and the induction ceremony, you've seen more people line up to talk to former players than you thought could physically fit in one sleepy New York village. That means you've also see the seedy looking memorabilia dealers sauntering up and down the steamy sidewalks with boxes of cards, photographs, baseballs and bats waiting to be signed and sold.
Frankly, it's a little sad. Not sad that people make their living off memorabilia (it is oftentimes a legitimate enterprise, after all), but sad that there are some people that get so greedy that they box out the ones who just want to get close to a star for a second. There should be some sort of forum where dealers get the items they want while toeing it up with their competitors. That way there wouldn't be any need for hesitation on the part of that players when teenagers and even moms or dads line up and ask politely for an autograph.
Kevin Youkilis appropriately references the explosion of new technology as one of the biggest contributing factors in this privacy vacuum, and he's spot on. The article you're currently reading (as you're well aware) is part of this explosion, with the round-the-clock news coverage both on the air and online allowing for Average Joe Fan to start, say, his own sports blog to make his own informed opinion heard.
Et tu, Brute? thought the audience.
One of the thing that I personally have struggled with, and I'm sure there are countless other bloggers and internet authors out there who would echo the sentiment, is "what does it mean to be a fan in today's environment?" I can watch and listen to every major league game, and I can even fill the off days with minor league matches. In the winter I can listen to and talk baseball with my XM subscription, all the while feeling like I am more than the average fan because of the amount of information I may be able to spit up in a split second.
The truth is, I'm not. I'm just an average fan, just like the guys over at Dewey's House are fans, the pundits and Sons of Sam Horn are fans, and David Pinto at Baseball Musings is a fan. We all have given a piece of our soul to this team, and in that way we're all the same. Some might have already known that Terry Francona was the only Sox manager in history to lead the team to the postseason three times, and still others may have just learned it this morning. Either way you cut it, we're all fans. And as fans, we need to remember to keep our distance. I can never be a player or coach, and neither can a lot of the bloggers in the 'sphere.
The Red Sox may be as important a part of New England as autumn and lobster, but in the end they're just people, too. We have to remember that everything we do as fans impacts them not only as players, but also as people. It's sad to think that some people can't keep the fact that there is a separation between fan and athlete, and even sadder to think that such indiscretion can ruin the experience of those who have no such trouble.
Now I'm not going to lie, I love collecting autographs as much as the next guy. It's always cool to say hello to a professional ballplayer, regardless of who he is, and they look great in the office. Problem is, too many times its not about the love of the game when fans and players meet.
If you've ever been to Cooperstown for Hall of Fame Weekend and the induction ceremony, you've seen more people line up to talk to former players than you thought could physically fit in one sleepy New York village. That means you've also see the seedy looking memorabilia dealers sauntering up and down the steamy sidewalks with boxes of cards, photographs, baseballs and bats waiting to be signed and sold.
Frankly, it's a little sad. Not sad that people make their living off memorabilia (it is oftentimes a legitimate enterprise, after all), but sad that there are some people that get so greedy that they box out the ones who just want to get close to a star for a second. There should be some sort of forum where dealers get the items they want while toeing it up with their competitors. That way there wouldn't be any need for hesitation on the part of that players when teenagers and even moms or dads line up and ask politely for an autograph.
Kevin Youkilis appropriately references the explosion of new technology as one of the biggest contributing factors in this privacy vacuum, and he's spot on. The article you're currently reading (as you're well aware) is part of this explosion, with the round-the-clock news coverage both on the air and online allowing for Average Joe Fan to start, say, his own sports blog to make his own informed opinion heard.
Et tu, Brute? thought the audience.
One of the thing that I personally have struggled with, and I'm sure there are countless other bloggers and internet authors out there who would echo the sentiment, is "what does it mean to be a fan in today's environment?" I can watch and listen to every major league game, and I can even fill the off days with minor league matches. In the winter I can listen to and talk baseball with my XM subscription, all the while feeling like I am more than the average fan because of the amount of information I may be able to spit up in a split second.
The truth is, I'm not. I'm just an average fan, just like the guys over at Dewey's House are fans, the pundits and Sons of Sam Horn are fans, and David Pinto at Baseball Musings is a fan. We all have given a piece of our soul to this team, and in that way we're all the same. Some might have already known that Terry Francona was the only Sox manager in history to lead the team to the postseason three times, and still others may have just learned it this morning. Either way you cut it, we're all fans. And as fans, we need to remember to keep our distance. I can never be a player or coach, and neither can a lot of the bloggers in the 'sphere.
The Red Sox may be as important a part of New England as autumn and lobster, but in the end they're just people, too. We have to remember that everything we do as fans impacts them not only as players, but also as people. It's sad to think that some people can't keep the fact that there is a separation between fan and athlete, and even sadder to think that such indiscretion can ruin the experience of those who have no such trouble.
Labels: Commentary
Ryan Brodeur at 9:40 PM
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