Football season arrives each fall and along with it comes celebration beers, stadium-shaking cheers full of waving “We’re #1” foam fingers and millions of fans at home on the edge of their sofas ready to jump for joy or throw the remote control through the TV. Fenway Park, where the Red Sox play, turns into a back-alley brawl when the hated rival Yankees are in town, and European soccer matches become bloody riots fomented by the infamous soccer hooligans.
But where does this fan fervor come from? Why do we support a team we’re not on, in a sport we don’t play and root for guys or girls we don’t know? Why is it sports fans share in the victory and say, “We won,” but when then distance themselves after a loss by saying “They lost”?
Believe me, I’m not some journalism nerd who hates sports because I was picked on by jocks and turned to writing about them for revenge. I actually spend a good part of my day on ESPN.com when I should be washing the dishes, walking the dog or doing any other chore I promised my girlfriend I’d finish the day before. I just want to know if I’m a voluntary citizen of Fandom or a prisoner there, unable to escape.
One psychologist noted that the term fan is derived from the word fanatic, and a fan can be defined as “an individual possessed frequently by an excessive enthusiasm for sport.” Are we sports fans really “possessed”? Should there be a priest walking around the Ducks tailgating area sprinkling football demons with holy water, or is that drunk frat guy throwing blessed beer on his buddies really a sane mental attitude?
If the Ducks win though what does it change for me? I don’t get a better education. When my favorite football team the Raiders win, which rarely happens, I don’t get a pay raise, and if my favorite baseball team the Angels chalk-up a hash mark in the win column, my life won’t suddenly become perfect.
Only I can create these changes in my life, so I’m completely baffled why we sports fans put such an emotional investment into something with no reciprocity. I’m sure sociology and psychology majors are foaming at the mouth to explain it all to me. They’ll probably say I root for the underdog because my life is a struggle, and if that small-unknown team can knock down the Goliath of the division then I’ll feel that I too can win one against my oppressors: my boss, parents, or George W., for a change? They’ll say the freshmen in the dorms paint their faces green and yellow and storm the stadium in a pigskin tribal ritual because they want to belong to their new college culture, and showing team devotion is a rite of passage. Personally I think what else do they have to do on a Saturday morning but blow bong hits out of the window and watch cartoons in their pajamas.
Maybe it’s not a psychological phenomenon, but a physiological addiction to increased hormone levels that controls the lives of us sports fans. A psychologist at Georgia State University, James Dabbs, showed that testosterone levels in male fans rise and fall with a team’s performance. He took saliva samples from 21 Italian and Brazilian men before and after the 1994 Soccer World Cup in which Brazil defeated Italy for the championship. The Brazilian’s soccer team fans’ testosterone rose an average of 28 percent after the victory while the Italian’s fans’ levels dropped 27 percent.
Testosterone is after all a sex hormone, and positive feelings tend to increase testosterone levels. One study at the University of Florida found the level of physiological arousal among passionate fans shown pictures of Florida football stars making winning plays was comparable to the level of arousal registered when the same fans were shown erotic pictures or pictures of animal attacks.
I’d have to admit that looking at Playboy pictures as a teenager never got me as excited as when Dixon ran against Houston and Michigan for touchdowns; I jumped like a clapping monkey on a caffeine binge those two Saturdays.
Numerous other studies have helped to solidify the theory that a sports fan’s endocrine system rides a hormonal roller coaster of changes depending on his or her team’s performance. One case documented that fans who hold low opinions of themselves registered the highest surges in testosterone after their team won a game, while another test showed die-hard fans are much more likely to be confident in their sex appeal after a victory, which makes it a good thing there’s not any hidden cameras in the dorms if the Ducks actually win a bowl game this year.
At my first Ducks football game the other week I heard a shirtless middle-aged guy scream he bleeds green and yellow and high-five another mid-thirties inebriate, a scene that would have never happened away from a sporting event. I’m sure he doesn’t rip his shirt off at the local Jiffy Lube he probably works at and high-five his petroleum pals after a successful oil change, but when Dennis Dixon breaks for a 40-yard touchdown run the beast comes out in him, myself, and the 50,000 other fans at Autzen Stadium.
One researcher however believes sports affect not only its fans, but can also be a marker of how violent a society is. “If you look at the stats of violence in society right now, [sports] parallels what’s going on in society,” said Allyce Najimy, senior associate director at the Center for the Study of Sport in Society at Northeastern University in Boston, in the National Geographic News. “The more violent society gets, the more violent sports get. It’s tragic, it’s horrible, but it’s not surprising.”
Violent behavior can be profitable in a violent society however. Gladiator games, in which men battled each other and/or ferocious, hungry animals to the death, helped unite the Roman society and bring riches to the nation. The sports industry in the U.S. is one of the fastest growing industries and our padded gladiators and the sports they play generate enormous wealth too. The Sports Business Journal estimated the industry at $213 billion last year, more than twice the size of the U.S. auto industry and seven times the size of the movie industry the journal reported. The main areas we fans spend money is in licensed goods, which grossed $10.5 billion, spectator spending, $26.17 billion, travel by spectators to sporting events, $12.4 billion, and gambling, $18.9 billion.
At the last Ducks home game I spent at least $200 on tickets, clothing apparel, those awesomely annoying Duck Lips that sound like a duck call from a bird in heat, beer, food and these cute little face stickers for my girlfriend. The hole in my wallet was well worth it as I felt part of the Autzen community for the first time and a member of the University tribe.
Maybe I am a fanatic who is possessed by the community identity I feel when I’m one of 50,000 fans all cheering for the same cause, or addicted to a testosterone boost that is comparable to seeing nude pictures when my team wins a big game, but will it ever change? I hope not. And for all of those out there who feel the same way, I’ll be waiting for you in the tailgating area to cheer in victory, mask the pain of a loss by blaming the referees and their horrible eyesight, or just watch the frenzied sports village in all it’s inebriated, hormonally fluctuating glory.
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