The Glade 4.0

I'll start.

It's 1979. I'm a kid still, and my family is making its annual pilgrimage from East Tennessee to Georgian Bay. Every year, on the way, we stop in Pittsburgh where my grandmother lives. Spend the night there at the midway point of the trip, pick up my Grammy, and head to Canada the next morning. Stay in Canada a couple weeks, head back to Pittsburgh, and head home. We go to Iron City, a place near Parry Sound, Ontario, that was started ~120 years or so ago by Pittsburgh families who wanted to go fishing.

Every year, as we're heading north, I'm already thinking about bursting out the side of the mountain, coming through the Fort Pitt Tunnel and seeing downtown Pittsburgh spread out so suddenly in front of me. I know every mile of the trip. I know where the Quaker State sign is on the highway, that's going to net me Q-R-S-T-U if my brother and I are playing the alphabet game with the road signs. I know we're taking Forbes to Squirrel Hill, and that my parents will wake me up before we get to any of the good stuff, because missing any of that would be unforgivable.

And I'm thinking about Three Rivers Stadium, where my beloved Pirates and Steelers play. Willie Stargell's "We Are Family" team would win the World Series that year. The Steelers would win their fourth Super Bowl. And I'd see the Pirates play on that trip, that summer. Pittsburgh teams were MY teams.

Maybe it would have been different if I lived somewhere else, if my hometown had pro teams of its own. But I lived in Maryville, Tennessee, which back then didn't even have 30,000 people in it. And nearby Knoxville wasn't much bigger in the grand scheme of things. Nashville didn't have any pro teams back then. There were no Titans. Hockey in the South was a laughable concept. We had four channels on our television - ABC, CBS, NBC and PBS. No one had ever heard of Ted Turner, and so Atlanta teams didn't even show up on my radar.

I say all this because I'm constantly surrounded by people who have no idea why I will never support the Titans, or the Colts (I work for the University of Tennessee, which zealously maintains its religious fervor for Peyton Manning), or the Falcons - why I insist on being one of those horrible Pittsburgh fans who don't even live anywhere near Pittsburgh.

Because my Topps Pirates cards were maintained separately from any other baseball cards. Because Lynn Swann was born in Alcoa, a few miles away from my house, and I went to Alcoa Elementary and he and other Steelers visited us - and that was infinitely cooler than getting visits from stuffy old Congressmen. Because I'm forever connected to a town that, no, I've never lived in - but will remember vividly for my entire life.

Go Steelers. Beat the Jets!

/waving my Terrible Towel obnoxiously

My father likes hockey, but he is a Gordie Howe fan, and therefore has always had a slight preference for the Detroit Redwings. But I grew up in Northern Ontario, and all my dad's friends were Toronto Maple Leafs fans. I quickly learned, as a child, that Maple Leafs fans were ...well...really pathetic. (I actually heard one say "Alan Bester is the best goalie ever to play in the NHL" once.) The Leafs were terrible, terrible basement-dwellers, year after year, and yet Leafs fans kept thinking they were somehow the best team in Hockey.

Being the contrary, gleeful mischiefmaker that I am, as a 13 year old girl I picked a team to cheer for so i could participate in the hockey fandom going on every winter. But I picked the team that was going to irritate Leafs fans the most -- The Montreal Canadiens. At first this was just to cause trouble, but the year was 1986, and the Canadiens had some nobody rookie goalie named Patrick Roy.

Roy won himself the playoff MVP, rookie of the year, and a Stanley Cup championship, and made a permanent fan out of me.

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Well Ali Baba had them forty thieves, Scheherezade had a thousand tales
But master you in luck 'cause up your sleeves you got a brand of magic never fails...
...Mister Aladdin, sir, What will your pleasure be?
Let me take your order, Jot it down -You ain't never had a friend like me
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Great story... for a front-running pansy... (continue on to discover the source of the vitriol ).

I posted this story a while back that encapsulates why I am a Cleveland-everything fan:
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/eticket/ ... /Cleveland

It's long but far more eloquent and accurate than anything I could write myself. In Cleveland sports go beyond entertainment and while I know a lot of fans say that, the story recounts (tragically) why our teams have such profound meaning to and impact on us.

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I grew up watching football and baseball with my dad. We had season tickets to the Phillies for quite a few years. My mother's side of the family has always been rabid football (specifically Eagles) fans and for many years we were invited to the parties they always had for the games.

With the falling out of my family, my dad drifted away and I lost my baseball and football watching partner. My mom never really let me do much with my dad once everything with my family went to ****. Along with that, my mom pulled some **** with her own family that made them look down on my father and he decided that he wanted nothing to do with them, so we didn't get invited to the ballgames anymore.

I moved out and realized that I didn't enjoy baseball and football as much when I watched alone, specifically the Phillies and Eagles. I never learned to appreciate the sport for what it was, I was a hometown fan and couldn't be bothered watching a game that I did not have a rooting interest. I got bored with them both as I thought they were too slow-paced to watch anymore. I wanted something faster, something nonstop and exciting. I decided to give hockey a try. I never played, but something drew me to the game.

Now, I can't get enough. I am a rabid Flyers fan, and I rarely knowingly miss watching a game. Hockey has definitely changed me as I can watch the sport even if it isn't necessarily hometown. It filled a void in my life when I lost that connection I had to my father (which has never truly been restored). It brought back an interest in the PHillies and the Eagles once again. Joining a softball team and the Phillies winning the World series has brought back a great interest in baseball and having a brother-in-law who is a crazy Eagles fan gives me back a partner to watch and enjoy the games with again.

My greatest joy, though, has to be the fact that I know my son will grow up watching Flyers hockey with me. He already shows an interest when they, or any hockey highlights, are on. When he hears Jim Jackson (Flyers Announcer) get excited on a great play or when he hears the arena goal horn, his arm immediately shoots up in celebration as he has seen daddy do so many times.

That's my boy.
/happydaddy on

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This must be Thursday. I could never get the hang of Thursdays.

it was easier than being a toaster...

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Darksiege
Traveller, Calé, Whisperer
Lead me not into temptation; for I know a shortcut

One of the few happy memories of my childhood and my father I have left is the two of us listening to the Giants broadcast on a long drive somewhere. He was so gleeful explaining baseball to me and he was a Giants fan. I wish he had lived to see last years World Series.

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The U. S. Constitution doesn't guarantee happiness, only the pursuit of it. You have to catch up with it yourself. B. Franklin

"A mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone." -- Tyrion Lannister, A Game of Thrones

Cause dere ain't nuttin else to do in Wisconsin in da winter, ey? Beer, cheese, sausage, and football. Because growing up as a fan of a perpetually-losing team builds character, and makes it even sweeter when they start winning. Because the Packers are the only fan-owned NFL team. Because wearing cheese on your head is a fashion statement.

It's just not the same for baseball. I mean, I have a lot of fond memories of summertime afternoons spent listening to the Brewers game on AM radio. I spent more days at County Stadium than I can count, especially when I had a buddy who worked there and snuck me in through the groundskeeper entrance. Maybe it was just because there were more games in a season, maybe it's the pace of the game, I don't know... going to a baseball game was more about tailgating and hanging out.

Football was a way of life growing up. The entire city shuts down when it's game time (except them FIBs). On Sunday, the priest is hurrying up his sermon because it's almost game time. The streets are empty. If you're unlucky enough to work that Sunday, it's OK, because the boss pulls the old TV out of the back room, and business comes to a crawl. When there's a big play coming up, the place falls silent. Being a Packer Backer gives you instant comraderie with people who might otherwise just be random strangers, people from all age groups and walks of life. When you watch the game, you're taking a small part in something much bigger, a rich history going back almost a hundred years. It's that same feeling as when you go to the Green Bay Packers hall of fame.

In Florida, pro football doesn't seem to have the same impact on people's lives. Maybe college ball... but people aren't rabid about the Dolphins. I guess you don't have the fourth- and fifth- generation fans here. My family has been pretty accepting of me but I don't know if they get it 100% yet. My wife is really understanding. She watches the games with me, runs around like a lunatic ringing a bell when they score, and she volunteered to put green and gold in her hair for Sunday's game (I think I might get her to put on the face paint too)

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Real Cleveland Sports died with Lakefront ...

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You mean Municipal Stadium or the old-old-old-school League park?

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Cleveland Municipal ...

Although, I suspect, you did not get to see too many games in that Stadium. One of the few baseballs I've been lucky enough to catch came off Albert Belle's bat on opening day in '93.

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Wow, I understand every word you've written, even the part about FIBs ...

I grew up rejecting the Packers, and looking outside of Wisconsin for my sports fixes. The Vikings had cool helmets ... I was born in Los Angeles, so, yeah, root for the Rams (and Dodgers). I lost interest in football for a while, then we moved to Green Bay, and I saw Bart Starr in a candy store. It was in the dark days of the late 70s, but damn if that man still didn't have charisma and an aura of leadership about him. I was drawn into the Packer mystique, and can proudly say that I have sat in the snow, in Lambeau Field, for a Packers loss in November.

So, blame it on Bart Starr, I guess.

Now that I live in LA, and my wife is a good Dodgers fan, I've rediscovered my love of the Dodgers. But, really, I just like baseball, don't really have to have any rooting interest to sit down and watch a game. Not quite the same with football, though. I just don't find it as intrinsically interesting.

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This cold and dark tormented hell
Is all I`ll ever know
So when you get to heaven
May the devil be the judge

So ...

I've been thinking long and hard how to respond to this thread, but it occurs to me that no event explains it better than the final regular season game at Turner Field in 2010. It was Bobby Cox's final regular season game. He was at home. Post Season or not, he had maybe until the first week of October before someone else would rocking on that bench and in that dug out. And every living man who'd ever wore the Brave's uniform was in attendance to send him on ...

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Frackin' toaster.

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Well Ali Baba had them forty thieves, Scheherezade had a thousand tales
But master you in luck 'cause up your sleeves you got a brand of magic never fails...
...Mister Aladdin, sir, What will your pleasure be?
Let me take your order, Jot it down -You ain't never had a friend like me
█ ♣ █

To put it succinctly...my dad is the reason I love baseball and football...and of course I mean the SF Giants and SF 49ers!! What other teams are there??

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"Said I never had much use for one, never said I didn't know how to use one!"~ Matthew Quigley

"nothing like a little meow in bed at night" ~ Bruskey

"I gotta float my stick same as you" Hondo Lane

"Fill your hand you son of a *****!"

My dad had a job. He worked for a vending machine company in the 70's. Robot Vending...hehe. Anyway, Dad had the service contract for Big Boys for all of South East Michigan. Candy machines, gumballs and smokes. He filled them all. When the Silverdome, where the Lions played, opened in 75 he kinda got the contract by default. Big Boy won the bid to run the consession stands. SO, every Sunday my dad took me to work with him. I would help him fill his machines and as they almost never sold out in those days, there were always empty seats. I went to every home game from 75 til 84 or so.

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Raell Kromwell

Philadelphia Eagles are my football team, and always have been. Watching football with my dad is something I did a lot when I was little, and my favorite color was (and still is) green.

Yes, my favorite football team was decided because of my favorite color when I was like eight.

It took awhile, but it grew on me.

My father has been a Phillies fan for his entire life. My grandfather has been for a very long time too. My uncle the same way. Baseball was always on TV during the season (which is a big chunk of the year!) and whenever my grandfather or uncle was around my dad, they would talk baseball.

I still never was deserving to be called a "fan" for a long time, though. I only really got into baseball during the World Series. I was a fan of the Braves in the early 90s, no doubt because they were kicking a lot of *** and I was only around 8 or 10 years old during that stretch. It never stuck, though, and as I grew into my teens it fell by the wayside again.

Then sometime around age 20 I ended up getting back into it, this time as an adult. There wasn't any one thing, I suppose... it certainly wasn't any ass-kicking at the time, since the Phillies were a sub-.500 team then. I'm pretty sure it just became something I could share with my father. While we've always got along well, we're really really different people (unlike my mom who would fit in well here at the Glade from all the shared interests :p) and -- aside from Mythbusters! -- we don't really have anything in common. Baseball was a good fit. Again, it wasn't really a conscious decision, but I think that's how it turned out.

Even during this cold stretch of the offseason, we still talk about, well, the lack of baseball news on nearly a daily baseball. That and MLB Network... which serves up all your needs for the best 9 <fill in the blank> ever as well as all sorts of speculation that leads nowhere on possible signings of B-rate or worse players since almost all the big names have been taken care of by this time!

We used to see about 20 games there every summer. Indian's games were dirt-cheap and since it was de-facto first come first serve on seating... hehe. I also fondly remember wandering around the park before games collecting multiple freebie-handouts from the vendors. We had bats, gloves, pennants, hats, coats, about 2,000,000 O'Henry bars, batting gloves... basically you name it and they were passing it out

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When I was young, my dad, born in Massachusetts, was a solid Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics, and Bruins fan mainly because of his father. His father really just loved baseball, though, and my dad picked up the other Boston teams. Thus begins the story about my fandom.

I've always lived in Northern NJ, but I rejected all NY teams, mainly because I disliked the fans and I wanted to find my own identity. My dad probably had an effect on my loathing for NY fans as well. So I looked for teams that weren't my father's. I found the Seattle Mariners in baseball because I idolized Ken Griffey, Jr. I liked the San Francisco 49ers because I liked Joe Montana (and I was probably joining the bandwagon a bit), Chicago Bulls because of Michael Jordan (definitely was being a frontrunner here), and the LA Kings because of Wayne Gretzky (yes, this is definitely a pattern you can all make fun of now).

But I wasn't fulfilled. Rooting for teams that were ahead of the pack had it's moments, but I wanted to find teams I identified with. Slowly, my dad's influence crept in. It began with baseball. Watching Nomar Garciaparra and Mo Vaughn made me love the Boston Red Sox. They were fun to watch, classy, and thus I fell for the Boston Red Sox.

Basketball was the next thing I changed to. I stopped rooting for the Bulls because I didn't feel it. I turned to the Charlotte Hornets because Muggsy Bogues was an exciting player who was only 5'4". I was always challenged height-wise as well, although not by that much. And I loved to play basketball so I had someone I identified with. Then I liked the dynamic between him, Larry Johnson, and Alonso Mourning. But when the players all left, I didn't identify with Charlotte anymore. Thus, the Hornets were only a blip. Then I found guys like Dee Brown and began to love rooting for the Boston Celtics. And my dad was rooting for them. Thus, sticking with the Boston Celtics became inevitable.

Changing my favorite hockey team happened quickly. As soon as Wayne Gretzky became less important to me, I started to realize the Bruins were a scrappy team with guys like Cam Neely and my dad rooted for them, so why not. Now, I tend not to root for hockey, mainly because of the strike. It's my least favorite game of the four and I never played it. I played the other three.

Lastly, my football fandom switched when Joe Montana just about left the 49ers. Again, I identified with the player, not the team. I saw my dad rooting for this rag-tag team of players, with an awesome QB, Drew Bledsoe. I remember my dad watching them going 1-15. It was painful, but I felt a team connection. It wasn't too far from the time I considered myself a Patriots fan. I remember watching Bill Parcells give Drew Bledsoe the reigns of the entire offense in the second half of a Vikings game and lead them back to win after being down 20-3 in the first half. All he did was throw the entire second half virtually. It was amazing to see the comeback and I loved this team. To this day, that is why I'm such a hardcore Patriots fan.

This is why I love my teams. I feel the greatest connection to baseball and football only because they were also my two favorite sports to play. I loved basketball, but I was too short to do anything useful in that game. And I lost my connection to hockey over the years.