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Tag: Western New York (Page 2 of 2)

A Fellow Western New Yorker Weighs In (A Sorta, Kinda, In A Way Guest Post)

I am always surprised at the reaction my now-year-old post, Obviously, Massachusetts Schools Neglect to Teach Geography of Areas outside of New England (or No, Western New Yorkers are not Yankees Fans.), still gets.  The most viewed and most commented post ever on this blog, the discussion it’s encouraged is great!

Jon emailed me earlier this week with a comment too lengthy to be posted as a comment, and I thought it was cool enough to be my first sorta, kinda in a way guest post ever.  I’ll also link to this in the comments section of the original post as well.

Thanks, Jon for such a well thought out response to the article, and for another view into being a Western New York sports fan. The comment, which includes one of the best descriptions of why Western New Yorkers tend to flock to Boston, after the jump. Continue reading

Break Glass if Sick of Election Talk: Your Sports Link-o-Rama

I come to you this evening to write the only piece of blog-o-sphere not to mention tomorrow’s US Presidential Election.  Because, frankly, to be all Negative Nellie about it, it won’t matter who the heck is elected President tomorrow – America is screwed either way because there is not a single politician who exists who is stand-up and honest.

But enough about my political thoughts.  I come to you today with links to articles that also have nothing to do with politics, because there will be a point sometime on Tuesday where you are going to want to bang your head against the wall if you hear one more iota about the election:

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They Hate Me: Western NY’s Toxic Back and Forth Relationship with Basketball

Pravin commented earlier this week on my treatise on New York State sports fandom with a great question on basketball in Western New York:

And where does basketball fit into all of this? Is there a particular team that people in Western New York prefer to root for? I’d imagine that the Knicks–not even factoring in their past seven seasons of futility–represent everything that upstaters hate about downstate. There is the connection between the old Buffalo Braves and L.A. Clippers, but not even the most ardent fan of the A.B.A. would retain that kind of loyalty.

Now, I have been in quite a few relationships in my day, including some of those of the on-and-off, back and forth, toxic variety.  (Who hasn’t in their day?  The degrees of severity vary, but everyone’s had at least one.)  But none come close to the toxic back and forth relationship that professional basketball has had with my home region of Western New York.  Professional basketball took Western New York and toyed with its emotions – “You want an NBA Championship? Here you go. Oh, wait – you aren’t “big enough” to support professional sports!  Sorry, let’s move the team away.” – until a whole generation and their children decided enough was enough, and ceased following the NBA all together.

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I Liked, Therefore I Was (A Short Discussion on Sports Fan Philosophy)

Preteen me started out as a biased, novice, ignorant sports fan. When I became a fan of a team, an event, or an athlete, I became a supposed fan of that sport. In other words, I liked, therefore I was. I was a fan of the in-school pep rallies we got to have every late January because the Bills went to the Super Bowl, thus I was a fan of football. I became a fan of Steve Young’s striking good looks, thus I was even more a fan of football. I was a fan of my dad dragging me to Rochester Amerks games when he was able to score free tickets, thus I was a fan of hockey. I wanted to be Kristi Yamaguchi, therefore I liked figure skating. I liked the hoards of hot guys in indoor track, thus I joined the track team.

Here’s the converse of becoming a fan in that fashion–you absolutely despise other events, teams and athletes, but you can not tangibly explain why. I hated the Dallas Cowboys, because they were the arch enemy of both Steve Young and the Bills. Never mind that the early-mid 90s Cowboys were amazing on both sides of the ball, were crazy dominant, and probably were not the dirty cheaters my father pinned them to be. I hated them with every ounce of hate a twelve year old could muster. They caused the Monday after the Super Bowl to be the saddest day at school–every time you spotted a stray streamer in the #52 School gym from Friday’s “Go Bills” pep rally, you got choked up. I liked the Amerks, but I couldn’t tell you why I was booing the Hershey Bears–I couldn’t tell you if they were actually any good, what college teams the players came from, if they had a good defense. As for indoor track – I liked the hot guys, but my running form was awful and I couldn‘t tell you what half the events were–plus, when my coach tried to get me to practice hurdles, I often tripped over them not for lack of vertical leap (hey, I had been a gymnast, thus I had vertical leap to spare,) but because I was staring at the guys on my team. It’s not just me–think of a Boston University or Boston College student whose first introduction to hockey is in college. They hate the other school’s team, although most of them, at first or ever, can tell anyone else exactly why they should hate them. Continue reading

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