How to take the fanatic out of the fan pt. 1

I admit it. My well of new blogging ideas has run dry. So I've decided to do something a little different. I've been a journalism student for the past few years and I thought it might be fun to share a few of the stories I've written for classes, newspapers, etc. The first I am publishing is a column written for a magazine writing class. The assigned topic was a how-to article. Being a major sports fan, naturally, I catered my column to sports, hence the title, "how to take the fanatic out of the fan." The column as a whole is a bit long so I decided to break it up into four parts. I'll release a new part every week or so. This particular piece isn't great writing, but it sure was fun to create. I hope my one follower enjoys it as much as I did.

How to take the fanatic out of the fan
Matt Andreason

There’s a reason the word fanatic was shortened to fan. It’s my belief the move was symbolic, with fanatic representing the extreme, and fan representing the condensed version of our rooting behavior. If you’ve been to a sporting event recently, you’ll see my perspective is not always the majority. As a self-proclaimed "professional sports observer" I’ve broken down fanatics into four distinct groups. These four groups can disturb, annoy, drink, and do a number of other things to poorly represent a fan base. The only question is how do we eliminate the fanatics and welcome them back as simple fans? Let's find out how one might do it.

Group 1

Jersey fanatics: In sixth grade my friends and I had what we called Jersey Monday. Every Monday we’d come to school adorning our favorite jersey that usually represented our favorite player. Back then, pretending to be Reggie Miller and hitting a corner three on the playground was always the highlight of my week. Soon, seventh grade was upon us. It took me about thirty seconds that first morning of middle school to realize putting on a jersey would be my first attempt at societal suicide. Apparently, thousands of 40-year old men and women didn’t get the same memo. Too often when a sporting event is held, we’re surrounded by fully-grown men whose days of pretending to be someone else have embarrassingly been prolonged. Worse yet, many of these adults can be spotted next to aspiring children who are wearing a pair of nice jeans and a faded T-shirt. Shouldn’t those roles be reversed?

Solution for fanatic cleansing: I’m all for a free-market economy, but the best way to combat this group of fanatics is to set some limits on the sports’ store consumer. There must be a strict age limit for buying jerseys, and it shouldn’t surpass the age of 15. Identification checks should be administered for every purchase as well. It might start a whole new revolution of fake Ids, but for the sake of a mature adult society, it’d be more than worth it.

Random thoughts on the day after...

The excitement was palpable. Considering the forum, a little too palpable if you ask me. Along the many routes of campus, teachers and students alike gleamed unabashed smiles everywhere they went. News of Obama's victory had been heard and overwhelmingly accepted. In class, teachers and students alike freely shared their optimistic visions for the future. However, mere victory wasn't enough for some. One teacher couldn't resist taking a few last parting shots at the Bush administration. One teacher and a few of her students were still displeased with the undecided results on proposition 8. Some students blamed the close vote on the influence of Utahns and the LDS church. Most classmates agreed. How could they not? We all know California voters are incapable of reasoning for themselves, right?

A classmate and I tried to exonerate our fellow Utahns and the LDS church. After all, this was a California proposition was it not? Our opinions were scoffed at; ignored. It was the first time I felt myself a minority. Do I get a scholarship now?

The Democrats won last night. As they say, "a new sheriff is in town." Change is supposedly on the way. However scary that may be to some, it's good to know good ole' fashined political bias among our educators isn't going anywhere, right?

"Work that kills"

I squirm every time I hear it. My breathing becomes irregular, forehead veins perk up, my face always reddens. What do you all think could elicit this type of reaction from a normally even-tempered customer such as myself? A Steelers' loss, maybe? The latest shooting incident involving a Pacers' player? Thinning hair on the left side of my head?

How about when a teacher announces a group project as part of the curriculum for a class? Better yet an upper-level college course?

Let's move away from sports for a moment and address what I consider the most pointless teaching method issued by teachers today; group work.

Don't get me wrong, group work has its benefits. I remember it being the perfect ploy to socialize with friends during class or a non-intrusive way of introducing yourself to a guy or girl you might fancy. But that was high school. I'm talking about college now. Some of our most skilled and innovative educators are not only issuing it to their students, but they're lauding it and justifying it as a meaningful teaching tool.

What's funny is their attempts to hide it behind a cloak of professionalism. How many of you have heard this before, "I understand group work can be difficult, but it really helps to prepare you for real-life work scenarios."

Ugh. You'd think it's a joke, but it's not. Watching a flaky group member knock my grade down a few notches because of indifference does little to prepare me for "real-life" group scenarios.

You see, in the real world, the ultimate motivator is on the line; money. Livelihoods are at stake. Career growth or career stagnation is your path. Most are going to choose the former.

School, on the other hand, is a subjective pursuit. Students' motivation levels vary at inestimable rates. Some care about A's, some B's and some couldn't care less just as long as they pass.

School should be about individual performance, not how hard you work on someone else's behalf. Otherwise, provide group majors for those incapable of self-motivation. Am I being harsh? Probably. Am I speaking the truth? I'll let you, as individuals, decide for yourselves.

Little league sports conundrum

I listened to an interesting discussion on the radio a few days ago. Two local sports personalities were discussing the quality of high school football in Utah. They were referring to how in states such as Florida, Georgia and Texas, many of their high schools have NFL-quality equipment and some of their coaches make upwards toward 200K a year. Their discussion evolved into what Utah can do to bring its own high school programs up to that level. One personality, mentioned it has to start at the little league level by improving playing fields, equipment, uniforms, organization and coaching. Doing so, he argued, would enhance the products funneled into Utah’s high school football programs.

Now, I may be out of line here, but what happened to little league sports? Since when did it change from introducing our kids to healthy competition into an organized minor-league system for high school sports?

I have two major issues with this personality’s proposal. For one, he can stop referring to kids as “products.” They shouldn’t be thought of as raw goods manufactured to perfection at some sketchy warehouse in a foreign country. Secondly, this type of minor-league system would seem to hamper the chances of untapped or the late-blooming potential of kids outside of the system.

What happens to those not entrenched in the system at an early age? What happens to those kids whose parents don’t have enough money to plant their kids in the system?

This topic is of special interest to me personally. Years ago, through some well-connected friends, I was invited to a tryout for an eighth-grade AAU basketball team, coached by the freshmen high school coach. Needless to say, I was thrilled. I had worked hard all of my life for this type of opportunity. I’d shot hoops every day, while also attempting to perfect my left hand and dribbling abilities. I was confident I could compete with any kid my age and felt my efforts had warranted such confidence.

Tryouts began and we started with a few simple drills. The problem was they weren’t easy for me. I’d never been taught the three or five-man weave before. My countless hours on the driveway didn’t prepare me for the foreign spider drills and rebounding drills I was being asked to perform now. There was no instruction from the many coaches assembled in the gym, either. They watched stoically as I butchered every drill imaginable. Drills ended and scrimmages commenced. At that point, my confidence was shot. I was hesitant and passive during the scrimmages. A good mix of over thinking and an errant jump shot eventually sealed my demise.

After scrimmages ended, the coaches began pulling certain kids aside into a huddle. I, along with two others were never asked to join the group. And what do you know? We were the only three not asked to return for a second day. I was heartbroken and felt blindsided. It was my first taste of sport politics and I despised it. I later found out every kid that made the team had played for one of the coaches at the tryout. They’d been playing for some of these guys since second grade. Perfecting at a young age all of the fundamentals and drills we were asked to perform that day. In this case, they were manufactured goods ready to be bought and sold by their future employer.

If the tryout had been about raw talent, I can definitively say I belonged on that AAU team. But because I wasn’t a part of a contrived system, I don’t feel I ever had a chance. My performance in the drills proved that.

My drive to play organized sports fizzled after this experience. Part of it is my own fault, rather than persevering; I gave up and let intimidation get the best of me. But part of me wonders what would have happened that day, had I been a part of the “system” from the beginning.

Why create an ultra-competitive system which would allow coaches to weed out the inferiors at a young age and bypass undeveloped talent? What’s worse is it would all be for the sake of competing at the high school level years in the future. Is that what sports represent? As idealistic as it sounds, sports is a platform for kids to learn how healthy competition applies to real-life scenarios. Perseverance, teamwork, work ethic, self awareness, and even overachievement despite certain limitations are a few of the things kids can learn by participating in sports at a young age. The last thing we need is our kids vying for a shot at making the high school team at the age of five.

July Baseball

Every sport has moments of receiving undivided attention from its fans. We can usually assume this attention is most aptly given on opening day of a new season. For college football, it's late August. The NFL, it's early September, NBA it's late October and so on. But let me focus on baseball for a moment.

Each new baseball season I make a promise to myself: This is the year when I will follow baseball from April to October, no exceptions. April begins, and I watch eagerly as the first televised contest of the season takes place. The uniforms, the well-manicured field, the distinct noise of wood colliding with the ball, all give me confidence this is going to be the season when my baseball stamina reaches its pinnacle. April, May, and June pass. I am usually on pace, if not exceeding my expectations to fulfill the promise. Aside from paying close attention to MLB standings, I have every relevant pithcer's ERA memorized, a list of batting averages compiled on hand just in case a coworker, friend, or family member wants to discuss possible batting-title candidates. I scour for information on my favorite team's Triple-AAA, Double-AA, and even Single-A affiliate, hoping to discover the next young player who'll be wearing a big league uniform. I watch Saturday baseball, feast on boxscore updates online, try unsuccessfully to convince my wife to pay for XM radio just to hear my team's radio broadcasts. I am so engrossed those first three months that I'm convinced if you give me the whispering voice, I'll be ready to build it. And then hits July.

Ironically, July would seem the month when baseball is most easily followed. The NBA playoffs were just completed along with the draft and training camp for football is still a month away. Yet, despite baseball standing alone in July as the only major sport playing relevant games, that's when my interest most wanes. It has nothing to do with the game itself, that will never be the problem. But there's something depressing about the fact that after three months of rigorous dedication, pouring myself over meaningless statistics, July 1 hits, and I realize, there are still 80 games left to play and another four months of baseball to follow.

It's reminiscent of the time I broke down and decided to humor my wife with an episode of the Bachelorette. Because of the rarity of the moment I promised to be on my best behavior. That meant no rolling of the eyes, no mock laughter, keeping my eyes steady and concentrated when witnessing an emotional or romantic display. For dramatic effect, I even practiced my best ooooooh! for when a soft kiss or gentle rub of the cheek took place. With these pre-determined rules in place, I readied myself for the beginning of the show. At first, I felt a bit uncomfortable. Without any mannerisms to display my emotional disgust, how was I to reaffirm any masculinity I possessed to myself? To my wife? To other men? Then I got roped in. I couldn't believe Trent would give his kidney to an ailing niece. How could my Bachelorette deny such kindness? Plus, did you see Kevin's family? A bunch of kooks, if you ask me. No one would dare marry into that family, would they? Or wouldn't they? Bachelorette did seem a bit on the wild side. A few minutes passed, which meant a commercial break. The network showed a clip of things to come and to my horror, I discovered my Trent and the despised Kevin were only two of eight other men vying for the heart of Bachelorette. Which meant another six weeks to see if Trent was the one. I had been betrayed. How was I supposed to attach myself emotionally to eight other men? Wait, something doesn't sound right in that sentence. Point is, one week of Bachelorette appeasement I could handle. Maybe even enjoy. But another six weeks? That's impossible. This man just isn't wired that way.

And so it goes with baseball. I do love it. The game has a purity few can match, but even this sports-obsessed fan can't stay tuned for a full season. And it's all July's fault. Or a ridiculously long season's. My advice to those seeking baseball longevity closure: Wait until October. Then you have only two teams to follow. And chances are the one team you've committed yourself to emotionally, physically (and to some of you even spiritually) all season, won't be in a position to betray you in the end.

NBA Draft 2008

Well, my mid-summer Christmas experience known to most as the NBA draft (2008) has come and gone. The myriad potential trades mentioned before the draft didn't exactly come to fruition, but there was plenty of movement on draft day including big names such as O.J. Mayo (from Minnesota to Memphis), Kevin Love (Memphis to Minny), Jerryd Bayless (Indiana to Portland) and the latest green room slide, Darrell Arthur (from Portland, to Houston, to Memphis). After looking over the draft and analyzing who was picked where, I've compiled a list of sleepers. Some of these names have potential to have immediate impact, while others may take a few years to vindicate my projections.

1. Jason Thompson (Sacramento Kings): Thompson was the most maligned lottery pick by our beloved "experts" who claim his success playing against subpar competition (Rider University) makes his NBA ability hard to gauge. Normally, I would concur, but Thompson clearly has all of the physical tools and heady skills to be a fantastic PF at the NBA level. He's got size 6'11, 250, with scoring and rebounding ability (20.2 PPG, 12.4 RPG ). He also averaged nearly three blocks per game, exhibitng a penchant to create havoc on the defensive end. Sure, he put up numbers against smaller, lesser-skilled competition. But what team would better know how to gauge the ability of a small school prospect than the Sacramento Kings, which already hit it big with starting SG Kevin Martin out of tiny Western Carolina University?

2. J.J. Hickson (Cleveland Cavaliers): Potential work ethic issues aside, J.J. Hickson is one of the most impressive physical speciemens in the draft. He's rock chiseled at 6'9 almost 250 lbs, and only 19 years old. He can score with his back to the basket, and face up to hit the fifteen foot jumper. His game is eerily similar to that of Carlos Boozer, except with quicker lateral movement. Many teams worried about Hickson's dedication to developing his game, but something tells me a guy named LeBron James won't let him waste his outstanding potential.

3. Nicolas Batum (Portland Trailblazers): Batum was picked originally by Houston at 25. The Rockets then later traded him to Portland for the rights of Darrell Arthur and Joey Dorsey. Once a perceived high lottery pick, most scouts and draft analysts became disenchanted with Batum after his incosistent play in the French Pro A league. His numbers don't do much to impress (12.4 PPG, 4.3 RPG), but to watch him play, it's clear he's got superstar ability. He's long at 6'8 and can play multiple poistions (SG, SF). He can shoot from all over the court, and was blessed with exceptional athleticism that allows him to get to the hoop. He's the perfect eventual sidekick to Brandon Roy and all it will take is for the Blazers be patient until he develops into a relevant contributor.

4. Darrell Arthur (Memphis Grizzlies): Arthur may have been drafted late in the first round, but make no mistake, he's got top-ten ability. Reports surfaced that Arthur's slide dealt with an erroneus report of his suffering from an undisclosed kidney ailment. The Grizzlies reap the benefits as the ultra-athletic forward will now be its starting PF for years to come. He's a bit slender at 6'8 216 lbs, but in the evolving, breakneck paced NBA, his slight frame could become an advantage. With Arthur playing next to Rudy Gay, O.J. Mayo and 2007 Ohio St. phenom, Mike Conley Jr., the future--for once--looks bright in Memphis.

5. Mario Chalmers (Miami Heat): It's impossible not to mention the miracle maker himself when compiling a list of possible sleepers in this draft, especially since he inexplicably fell into the second round. Chalmers may have been forced to sacrifice the most in terms of his PG abilites when buying into the "ultimate team" concept administered by coach Bill Self and his fellow Jayhawks, en route to winning the 2008 NCAA championship. Chalmers has always had PG ability, most exemplified through his outstanding assist-to-turnover ratio at 2.25. Defensively, he is as pesky as they come as he never averaged less than 3.3 SPG. At 6'1 Chalmers has incredile length (6'8 wingspan) that allows him to get his hands into passing lanes and take advantage of the opposition. If Chalmers improves his ball handling, he could end up being the biggest steal in this draft.