Are You a Realist Or a Romantic as a Sports Fan?

Did you ever go to a movie and as you calmly watch the drama on the big screen, the person you came with suddenly burst into tears?

While you look at her surprised and try to figure out what triggered this reaction; she examines you with teary eyes to understand, how this touchy scene didn’t affect you at all. This is exactly how realists and romantics of the sports world look at each other.

They have one thing in common. Accepting what we so passionately love as only “a game”, doesn’t sit well with either side. After all, we are all adults and feeling so strongly about “just a game” would make us feel childish and silly.

The difference between a realist and romantic sports fan becomes clear in their reaction to losing. The realist considers losing as a sign of weakness. He feels like his team somehow failed him.

A romantic is more of a determinist. He appreciates the season as a journey with his team. As in every journey, alongside some happy moments, some suffering is also expected. Of course, like everything else in life, these lines are not this clear-cut and black and white. There are really fifty shades of gray. For example, I’m a numbers guy. That and my skepticism towards everything presented as “public opinion” helps me a lot when I’m having an argument over economics. When the majority of the people consider a statement as a fact, I automatically assume there is something wrong with it and I’m usually right. So I’m a pessimist, skeptic, and an analytical thinker, who finds himself generally on the unpopular side of the arguments.

But when I’m watching my football team, Beşiktaş, everything about me changes. I don’t see players as price tags running around trying to hit a ball. Having the same opinion about something with a bunch of people no longer bothers me. I find happiness when my pulse adjusts to the pulse of the “big Beşiktaş organism”; the fans in the stands. I feel like I find my place as a tiny piece of a “big puzzle”.

This is part of my identity that I chose, not one that I was born into. This one also has its own belief system, current, and past enemies, folk songs, history, and legends. It needs a part of my earnings and calls me to its defense every once in a while.

I think you can see where this is going. My team is my metaphorical homeland. I’m a citizen by choice and bonded with my fellow inhabitants as a result of a common history of happiness and sorrow. The emptiness, annoyance, and boredom that I feel between the games are exactly like homesickness.

As my team enriches my life and makes me happy, I try to pay back as much as I can by writing about it, teaching our ways to the new generations and come up with ideas to ensure a better future for the club.

Does this make me a romantic or just a regular insane person? I hope not the former. I hate being called a romantic.