As a Temple student, I am not very closely acquainted with the concept of being at a fun sports school. This season, our offense might be the worst offense of all time, and the 7th place projected finish in the AAC for basketball is not much more exciting. It’s rare that we have a fun win, either. I wasn’t here when we beat Duke basketball, and the Florida State and West Virginia wins were in a preseason tournament far away. Annoyingly, some schools like Cuse gets to have all of these things. An electric stadium, consistently average-to-above average teams, and huge wins.
This weekend, which was College Football’s reminder of Gambling Commandment number 3, was highlighted by a huge win for Cuse over the second ranked Clemson Tigers. One of my best friends goes to Cuse. I imagined the chaos that was probably ensuing in in Western New York. The home of the Orange illuminated by a crackling orange coming from overturned cars and fallen lampposts.
The only problem: he was imagining it with me.
Imagine that. Arguably the biggest win in the history of your school, and you are not a part of it. Instead, you are at the Catholic University of America rooting for your friends, who are on the rugby team. Rugby is kind of like football, if you never really got down in football and the penalties were always phantom calls to the average fans and every team just ran option football and none of the rules really made any sense at all.
All the while, snap after snap streams into my buddy’s phone, showing the insanity that was ensuing at Cuse. I can’t say that I am sympathetic of his plight, since I never have this kind of thrill, but this is the life of a college football fan. What is a huge win by your team if you can not be a part of it? Why care about the biggest upset of the year (sorry Iowa State) if you can not flip a car after it ends?
This is the college fan effect.
The pride is different than allegiance to your local professional team. As the area increases, the fan’s level of pride also increases. For professional sports, it is a pride in city, a pride in defending turf. In college, that turf is even more close to home. It is literally in your backyard. Every day, the fan trolls the campus that the players will have in block letters on the front of their jersey.
Additionally, the players themselves wander the same paths that the fan does. Watching games on television, it is not out of the ordinary to be able to say, “Hey! I had Spanish with that guy!” as a wide receiver hauls in a one-handed grab. On a Tuesday, a player could be sitting in your living room and on a Saturday he will be throwing a touchdown pass.
This closeness increases allegiance because the fan feels as if they are a part of the team itself. So when the guys on the gridiron complete an absurd victory, it is almost as if the fan did him or herself. In celebration, everyone is the same. Players are winners and fans are winners and everyone parties as one, solid community.