Sunday, September 05, 2010

And you call yourselves "fans".

I just got off the phone with my brother Tom and now I'm all fired up so I thought I would share it with you. You lucky bastards.

Here's what irritates the shit out of me about Beaver fans:

YOU'RE NOT FANS.

So yesterday after watching the Ducks beat (the crap out of) New Mexico (72-0 - records beaten and tied all over the place), I jumped in the car to finish up some Saturday errands. On the way to the Target, I passed roughly 20 cars in various states of Beaver Nation-ism (or whatever the hell they are calling it this year) - people in black and orange, decals on the car, flags flying from the windows, you get the idea. In the parking lot of the Target it was the same - tons of Beaver "fans" in their colors getting out of their decked out cars to do a little Target shopping. Here's the problem: It was 4pm. The Beaver game started at like 3:15pm. Against TCU. Does anyone see where I'm going with this?

WHAT ARE YOU DOING AT THE TARGET IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GAME?!

If you're such huge supporters of OSU football, shouldn't you be WATCHING THE GAME? I can't even begin to describe how pissed off I was about it. If I hadn't been on the phone with Barbie at the time screaming at HER about the situation, I swear to God I would have been ramming my cart into these bastards. What. The fuck. Why spend the money on the gear, the decals, the flags and all that crap when you don't have ANY intention of even watching the flipping game? Don't call yourself a fan if you don't even know, or care, that the game is on.

I don't have a problem with Beaver fans that are actual fans. Not everyone is a Duck fan in the state (clearly obvious by reading KATU.com and Oregon Live and seeing NOT ONE headline about the Ducks but fourteen stories about the Beavers' defeat by TCU), and that's great, that's what rivalry is all about. But for fuck's sake, WATCH FOOTBALL. It wouldn't have bothered me so much if there were just a handful of Beaver "fans" in the parking lot, or even if most of them were actually LEAVING the store (so that I could assume they were rushing home to watch the last 3/4ths of the game) but I'm not kidding you - there were a TON of them. Just a bunch of assholes strolling around wearing a color that only a very few can pull off without looking ghastly NOT caring that the game is on, NOT fired up for the season, NOT interested in seeing how "their" boys looked against TCU. Seriously I am just disgusted by this. If you want to be a fan and sport the colors and deck out your car then for GOD'S sake stay out of the public eye for a lousy 3 1/2 hours on a Saturday. Is that so difficult?

I don't know. Maybe all these people are OSU baseball or basketball fans and all decided at the same time to wear their gear on a sunny Saturday in early September. Does it make me feel better thinking that? Not really. Because all this illustrates to me is the bandwagon-ism bullshit that surrounds me in this state. I don't like to see it, and I certainly don't want to be bombarded with it when I'm out buying kibble and razors.

I'm not asking for much. Don't call yourself an OSU football fan if you're not one. Nobody thinks your cool, and nobody wants to see you in your getup when they know your game is being nationally televised on ESPN. You're an embarrassment to the real Beaver fans out there, and it's irritating. Just watch football. And if you don't want to watch football, wear something else.

3 Comments:

At 10:22 AM, September 06, 2010, Blogger Rosas Clan in Tulum said...

I think it is the swim team that they love so much and need to support year round. jaja

 
At 3:01 PM, September 09, 2010, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I told Chris PAge about how funny I thought this entry was (he's a Beaver fan). He said,"...uhm...the Beaver game started at 5:00".

BH

 
At 3:15 PM, September 09, 2010, Blogger JJ said...

Doesn't matter. Coming into, going out of (45 minutes later), they shouldn't have been lollygagging around the Target within minutes of game time. Which, by the way, was 4:45.

 

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