alibrat66
2nd String
- Joined
- Aug 23, 2011
- Messages
- 660
- Like
- 785
I turn 72 in a few months; please indulge me in a few memories and a little philosophical musings.
It is clear to me that the NCAA tournaments I have in front of me are far fewer than the ones I have seen in the past. Thus, I feel that being a fan, I have learned, is highly subjective and, in my case, age dependent. In the old days, I was passionate about the ebbs and flows of Syracuse basketball and football to the point where, when I was a junior in high school, I decked a Boston College fan standing in front of me in Archbold Stadium for screaming that Jim Brown was a dumb ni_ _ _ er; it was caught on national television. Once when I was a kid I pounded the radio (one of those plastic jobs shaped like Nash Rambler) so hard while listening to an away football game I broke the thing in half, vacuum tubes broken all over my bed; later, I usually got depressed or knee-walking drunk when the basketball or football team lost. I listened on my handheld shortwave radio to the Syracuse-Indiana 1987 final on the rooftop of the apartment building where I was living in Barcelona, Spain. I lost the signal with about two minutes to go and had to wait until the next morning to buy the International Herald Tribune to find out the Cuse had lost. I was disconsolate for days.
These days, I seem to savor each game as it comes. Last night's victory over the California Bears, though not the prettiest exhibition of a tournament game, was a sweet experience for me. Sure, I get mad at our guys when they pull a bone-headed move, but I always try to remember that they are playing for my team and thus offer encouragement rather than condemnation. I haven't lived in Syracuse for over 40 years, but, in many ways, I've never left the city with two seasons: winter and the Fourth of July. It will always be my town and my team; my blood leans toward Syracuse and its people and to the university for which I've rooted since I was a boy and from which I graduated. I've recruited fans from Mexico to Dubai and many places in between. My caveat is that once SU is eliminated (if they don't win it all), I lose all interest in the tournament. I don't stay up all night (like I do here, when the games are on the internet in the middle of the night) to watch teams I don't care about, nor can bear to see. It is the Cuse that has my heart. Always has. And always will.
It is clear to me that the NCAA tournaments I have in front of me are far fewer than the ones I have seen in the past. Thus, I feel that being a fan, I have learned, is highly subjective and, in my case, age dependent. In the old days, I was passionate about the ebbs and flows of Syracuse basketball and football to the point where, when I was a junior in high school, I decked a Boston College fan standing in front of me in Archbold Stadium for screaming that Jim Brown was a dumb ni_ _ _ er; it was caught on national television. Once when I was a kid I pounded the radio (one of those plastic jobs shaped like Nash Rambler) so hard while listening to an away football game I broke the thing in half, vacuum tubes broken all over my bed; later, I usually got depressed or knee-walking drunk when the basketball or football team lost. I listened on my handheld shortwave radio to the Syracuse-Indiana 1987 final on the rooftop of the apartment building where I was living in Barcelona, Spain. I lost the signal with about two minutes to go and had to wait until the next morning to buy the International Herald Tribune to find out the Cuse had lost. I was disconsolate for days.
These days, I seem to savor each game as it comes. Last night's victory over the California Bears, though not the prettiest exhibition of a tournament game, was a sweet experience for me. Sure, I get mad at our guys when they pull a bone-headed move, but I always try to remember that they are playing for my team and thus offer encouragement rather than condemnation. I haven't lived in Syracuse for over 40 years, but, in many ways, I've never left the city with two seasons: winter and the Fourth of July. It will always be my town and my team; my blood leans toward Syracuse and its people and to the university for which I've rooted since I was a boy and from which I graduated. I've recruited fans from Mexico to Dubai and many places in between. My caveat is that once SU is eliminated (if they don't win it all), I lose all interest in the tournament. I don't stay up all night (like I do here, when the games are on the internet in the middle of the night) to watch teams I don't care about, nor can bear to see. It is the Cuse that has my heart. Always has. And always will.