The Knicks Beat The French Because America Is Number 1
It's my 40th birthday and I don't want to talk about it so let's talk about sports.
The New York Knicks won a championship last night and, man, it was fun! The whole series was scripted to perfection. 1 Exciting, memorable, all the good words that people use to describe things positively. And I don’t even like the Knicks! The Knicks? The Knicks are losers, ok? But I did enjoy it so much that it really got me thinking about what was going on, because this is out of character for me. I love the Lakers, and when the Lakers can’t win, I root for a gas leak that gets the game delayed so no one can win. If it’s the Celtics we’re talking about, I root for a gas leak that isn’t caught in time, so that it causes irreparable brain damage to everyone in the arena. Some people like to root for the underdog when their sentimental team—or alternatively, mortal enemy—isn’t involved, but I can’t say I’m one of those people.
It’s easy to root for the underdog because their fans are such sorry sacks begging for your sympathy. “You don’t know how hard it is supporting the Cleveland Browns. For generations, my people have suffered. Please pray for me.” No, sorry. Maybe this works on lesser observers, but not me. I am made of sterner stuff.
When Apple made the iPhone, all these dummies were like, “iPhone? Why would anyone want an iPhone? Sounds dumb. People love fax machines and payphones, and if Apple wants to win the future they should stop all this fantasy iPhone nonsense and stick to smart meat-and-potatoes innovations like payphones, but for fax machines.” But Jony Ive said “oi, blimey,”—because he’s English and that’s how they talk—”look, gov, I tell the people what they want,” or some shit. You get the idea: the people don’t know what they want!
The fans of loser sports franchises say they want to win a championship, and they probably believe they want that, and maybe they do want it, but they shouldn’t because when God curses us, He grants our wishes.
When a team is a perennial loser, it gives your fandom meaning. You are the sufferer, the one the river kept. There are other sufferers, and together you suffer as one, and this is a bond you share that allows for important identity development. Once you get the monkey off your back and break the curse, you’re just another team that doesn’t win most years, but sometimes does. Wow, whoopty doo. They’ll sing stories about you for generations. No one gives a shit. You don’t even give a shit. The Red Sox finally, after all those years, won the 2004 World Series and beat their bitter rivals the Yankees, and no one in Boston will ever forget it—and then they won a few more championships over the next 15 years, and it meant nothing, because they were just another fucking team of no particular importance.
