There are few rules when it comes to rooting for a team. Generally, you can do whatever you want and no one will say much of anything. I'm not saying that you won't get a look or three because of what you are wearing, what you have painted on the side of your $60,000 RV, or what you convinced your wife to tattoo on her cleavage, but in the end, all anyone asks is that you are loyal to your team.

One of the few rules that does exist as part of being loyal, however, is that you never, ever, EVER leave a game before it is literally impossible for your team to win/lose the game. And I do mean "literally;" "unlikely" is not the same thing. So, it is in that vein that I would like to offer a sincere and heartfelt "fuck you" to all of the Texans fans who left the game early yesterday. That was just as disappointing as anything else that happened.

When I saw how many fewer seats were occupied following halftime, I was mildly annoyed. I chalked that up to people who were really there only to see Vince Young. After all, it's not like the place ever filled up yesterday--plenty of seats never had an ass in them because it was known that Vince was not starting. Still, I assumed that few Texans fans were among the exodus.

When my wife called during the early third quarter to tell me that the television announcers were joking about the parking lot filling up with people returning to their tailgates, I was even more peeved. Way to stick it out and cheer for your team, ya know? Hell, I don't even understand the mindset that would say, "hey, Earl, we're losing; let's go outside and listen to the game on radio instead of sitting here in this seat we paid for and actually watching the game."

And so it went that each hiccup by the Texans sent more and more people fleeing like rats from a sinking ship. At no point did any of them stop to think that there was a chance we might come back. Was it likely? Fuck no. Was it technically possible? Fuck yes. Obviously. Yet none of the departed seemed to even consider the possibility, however remote.

As disheartening as it was to see the empty seats during the comeback, the real slap in the face didn't come until after Andre Davis' miraculous TD catch. When Tennessee got the ball back and had to put together a drive, the few of us remaining were screaming our lungs out. We wanted to make it impossible for Collins to hear or audible and make the offensive line jump because they couldn't hear the snap count. We screamed. We beat the empty seats with bottles. We clapped until our hands hurt. And, obviously, we were unsuccessful. One-fifth of a stadium full of people can't do a whole lot, especially when a not-small percentage of that fifth is composed of Titans/VY fans.

Would it have made a difference if the place was packed? Who knows? That's not really the point. The point is that I shouldn't have to sit here and wonder "what if;" I should already know whether a packed house (or a reasonable approximation of a packed house) could have created a din that would throw the Titans off in that last, crucial minute.

Right about now, someone reading this is thinking that I am a dumbshit for suggesting that you stay even when the odds are 1-in-a-whole-fucking-lot that the outcome could change. Yet, that is exactly what this dumbshit is saying. If it is possible for your team to win/lose, you keep yourself in the stadium and see what happens. If you want to leave at the two-minute warning when your team is losing by four possessions, go ahead. If you want to start heading toward the exit as soon as one team begins the kneel-downs or even as soon as they get the first down that will let them start kneeling, be my guest. But until then, don't even consider leaving. Because only an asshole would do that. Nobody likes an asshole.

Look, maybe I am just venting because I saw the whole thing happen live. Losing like that, there is a feeling of disgust that no TV or radio broadcast can convey. The old lady who hugged me when Andre scored looked like she was going to cry when the field goal sailed through. We'd witnessed thirteen minutes of amazing comeback, only to have our hearts torn out at the end, so it's possible that I am simply bitter that the people who left early escaped the first-hand heartbreak. Then again, at least I can say that I saw that unbelievable rally live and--even better--I can tell people that I stuck it out even as the score climbed to 32-7. Maybe I left felling like I got kicked in the nuts, but I at least I had the balls to stick it out.

I'll get down off the soapbox now.

Labels: 2007 Season, Fuck, Ranting, Righteous Indignation, Self-Referential Stuff

Posted by matt on Monday, October 22, 2007 at 9:48 PM | Permalink