Ugly high school fans

At my first job after college in Fremont, Ohio, I liked to cover football games sitting in the stands rather than the press box ... better for my back, closer to the fans. I remember one team we covered, St. Joseph Central Catholic, had one parent who paced around the field during the game, listening on the radio. Couldn't understand it.

Now I can. When Will, God willing, becomes involved in competitive athletics, and I'm not coaching - especially on the high school level - I'm not going to be able to take it. Not just the nerves, but the fans. There are some really disgusting human beings in the stands during high school sporting events.

Take tonight. Our local high school hosted a conference rival in their homecoming game, and Jana, Will and I made the 500-yard walk to the field for the game. The home side of the bleachers was packed too full to find a spot for three, so we sat on the line separating the two cheering sections, in front of some opposing fans. Nothing we haven't done before.

First play of the game, our star running back - who I believe is getting recruiting letters from the UW staff; every week or so a Badger game recap addressed to this kid is posted on the bulletin board outside the coach's office - rips off about a 40-yard run. This sets off the guy sitting behind me on a rant that is probably still going on now, as he drives home after his kid's team lost 57-13, and continued when he put on his mesh hat with "Scotch" in big block letters and flips on that Larry the Cable Guy movie.

"Well what do you expect, they've got adults playing!" Many of our starters have been starting since they were sophomores, and this kid has been playing varsity since he was a freshman, so it does seem like he's been around for awhile. But nothing shady. "Hell, they ought to let me put on my jersey and get out there."

After our guy's next big run, the guy lets out a sarcastic "Nice run, young man!"

Then: "No wonder it's 21-0, they're playing adults!"

Then, after a touchdown: "Pfsts!"

Then: "I wish (the guy's son) would just lay that kid out, just plant him on the ground."

"I can't believe the WIAA is letting him play, he's been in high school for six years."

Then, the guy next to him chimed in. "I bet if he plays in college he'll only make it for two years."

Then our kid got shaken up, and as trainers worked on him on the sideline: "See, his teammates don't even like him. They didn't even want him on the team."

The visitors did not have many on-field highlights - after beating us the last two years, they seem to be in a bit of a rebuilding mode - but even the few they did have were not cheered for their boys' success, but for our kids' failings on a given play. As far as I could see, our kid wasn't showboating, trash talking, or anything like that.

Every once in awhile, Will - dressed, like me, in our team's colors and clearly cheering for this kid - gives the guy a look like, You should be in timeout!

After about eight minutes of this - yes, all this happened in about eight minutes of action - Jana took Will to get popcorn, and I became that Geek Who's Listening to the Game on the Radio, mainly to block out the guy. After Jana and Will got back, the guy was still going, and since Jana is the type to get in people's face at the theater if they're talking during a movie (and I love her for it), we moved so as not to become an interesting sidebar to Homecoming '07.

Here's the scary part: some of the things the guy was saying sounded like things that have come out of my mouth before, just with different names and uniform numbers. Specifically, I thought of how mad I got during the Badgers' loss to UNLV in the NCAA tournament in March. If I had a dime for every time "f#$@ing grad student" came out of my mouth in reference to the Rebels' star point guard, I'd buy some brand name dental floss, the nice stuff with extra wax. Also last March, I may have called Michigan State's star guard a skinhead; will have to check with Andy, Nick and Dad on that one. On more than one occasion when bemoaning the Brewers' fade in the pennant race this fall, I referenced the Cubs' "$8 billion payroll" and "their leadoff hitter that makes more than our entire lineup." All of these are either excuses, or ways of demeaning your conquerors, even if it is just in your own eyes. At first they may be a little bit clever or funny, but as they are repeated they just sound bitter and mean.

The big differences are:
1. I'm usually at home in front of my TV when yelling this stuff, not potentially sitting next to these guys' family.
2. I realize I sound like a jackass when this horrible persona emerges, and I'm working on it. I swear, Dad. Best behavior in Indianapolis this year.
3. This is the big one: the guy was yelling at and disparaging a high school kid, not a pseudo-professional athlete generating millions of dollars for his school and used to being scrutinized by a large number of fans and media. The guy sounded like he really hated this kid. A high school kid, who was shooting hoops at a local park with friends last Saturday at dusk when I went for a run after the Badger game, just like we did at that age.

If you've made it this far in the post, bravo. Please share with the group (cheap therapy) your irrational rants that you may have felt bad about later, if only to make me feel better.

This is what just several weeks of blogging has done to me - instead of moving away from this jerk, I hung in there to gather more of his lines for use in this post. That and the popcorn.