I am a bastard. Not the kind you might think, my parents raised me well and I am still great friends with my father. I am a bastard child of sports teams; raised without a team to call my own. I greatly enjoyed my childhood of fishing, skiing, backpacking and mountain biking in Boise, ID. But this ain't really a sports town, no matter how hard it trys, and people from cities like Boise all over the country have the same problem as me.
My inability to live in the same town for more than 2 years also played a part in my sports bastardization. My family and I moved to Kentucky for my last few years of highschool, where I could not make myself become a UK fan, and I abruptly moved to Wyoming after highschool. Since graduating from the University of Wyoming, I have moved about 10 times, to 10 different states, all with sports teams that I have flirted with dating but never had the courage to ask out.
Sure I've got my Chicago Bears, who I claim by birth since I was actually born in Cook County, IL. But my one mainstay, the team I've always been there for and has always been there for me is the Kansas Jayhawks. It started by birth, both Mom and Dad went to KU, and I grew up following KU basketball in sleepy little Boise.
When you are raised in Idaho, spend your 20's rallying around from the next coolest city to the next even cooler city, it becomes hard to remember your allegiances.
When the Jayhawks won the NCAA Championship on April 7th, I shed a tear or two. It was the greatest game I had ever seen for the final game of the tournament. Maybe it is because after so many years of heartbreak, I felt Dad deserved this one more than anyone else. Or maybe it was because no matter where you are, where you live or went to school, you can be a fan.
There are no rules in being a fan, you don't have to play the sport, don't have to pay an Alumni Association fee, or drive around with those ridiculous flags put up in your car windows on game days. You just have to believe in victory and accept defeat. I said I shed a tear for Dad that day, but maybe it was for myself, and all KU fans like me across the nation.
When the Jayhawks won the NCAA Championship on April 7th, I shed a tear or two. It was the greatest game I had ever seen for the final game of the tournament. Maybe it is because after so many years of heartbreak, I felt Dad deserved this one more than anyone else. Or maybe it was because no matter where you are, where you live or went to school, you can be a fan.
There are no rules in being a fan, you don't have to play the sport, don't have to pay an Alumni Association fee, or drive around with those ridiculous flags put up in your car windows on game days. You just have to believe in victory and accept defeat. I said I shed a tear for Dad that day, but maybe it was for myself, and all KU fans like me across the nation.
This article, for those kind enough to read, is for all those kids in small towns or less populated states across America. Kids growing up without a father, or hometown team. It's so easy to be from New York City or Chicago. No, I don't mean people living there don't have problems like you and I, what I mean is there's no mistaking who you should root for.
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