This is going to be another one of those posts where I jump around like crazy. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I promise a smile by the end though.
I’ve said this before but it’s worth repeating: I honestly don’t care what professional athletes do with their personal lives so long as they’re not engaging in activities that would lead me to believe they could be psychopathic. Don’t harm or kill people/animals, stay away from the heavy drugs, and avoid sexual situations that Chris Hansen takes interest in. That’s pretty much all I ask. Arrogance, narcissism, that type of stuff, I can live with. As sad as this may sound, I haven’t found narcissism to be all that uncommon of a characteristic. Why would I expect rich, sports figures to be above that? What does athletic talent have to do with emotional maturity?
Enough of the degradation though. For now, try to put aside all the stereotypes you might have for successful, young, male athletes, many of which I’m sure are deserved, and try to recognize that some of the people attempting to build a career out of their athletic gifts were at one time cheering for the same shield as you and I. I’m not asking you to sympathize, just adjust your mentality so that you’re thinking not of how you differ but how you’re similar to the figures that consume so much of our thoughts.
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First a little personal history:
In case I haven’t mentioned it before, I grew up in Buffalo. Those that lived elsewhere earlier in their lives and then later moved to Western New York often say that the people here are nice, warm-hearted, polite even. I don’t know about all that. I have nothing to compare this place against. I can confirm, however, that Buffalo is a great environment to learn how to binge drink and play sports. I can also confirm that there are more than a few creeps and individuals with shaky morals. No place worth mentioning is without the dregs though.
I also went to a public high school. So far, four kids who went to that school at the same time as I have been drafted in one of the big four professional sports leagues in North America. I’m not the type to drop names — that would be extremely sleazy – so I won’t but I will say that I know two of them quite well. They’re not unlike any of my other friends going to school for pharmacy, engineering, marketing, or whatever. They have big dreams. They’re motivated. They could drink an aquarium full of Jamesons. They’re also Sabres fans.
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Now for a tangible example that everyone’s familiar with: Pat Kane.
–Gasp!–
Of course he embarrassed himself publicly here last summer. It’s a permanent stain to his legacy but it’s in the past now. If that story still bothers you, too bad. I have to ask though, why are you so reluctant to forgive? Regardless of what you think of him, by the time his career is finished Kane will almost certainly be thought of as the best athlete to ever come out of Western New York. It’s not like he has turned his back on this place or ever said anything remotely critical or controversial either. Three years ago, he was still getting high off Sabres’ wins just like the rest of us. There has been barely a whisper of a mention here in Buffalo of the circumstances surrounding his first Olympic experience and that really surprises me. Why are more people not talking about him? I’ll go on record now and say that I’m cheering for him intensely.
In Kane’s professional career, the Sabres are part of the competition he gets paid to battle against. His loyalties now lie with the Chicago Blackhawks. Still, Kane’s professional obligations shouldn’t change his relationship with Sabres fans of past and present. He was just another hockey loving person in the audience a very short time ago. In that way I can’t help but feel as though I share a bit of a kinship with him.
Likewise for Tim Kennedy and Pat Kaleta. They’re fortunate as professionals to wear the colors of the team located in their home town. I don’t mean to suggest they’re more willing to run through walls than any other Sabres player just because they have memories watching games in HSBC Arena and remember cheering for Mike Peca. They’re going to lose concentration, relatively, and then struggle to regain their focus just like every other player. But how are these individuals different when you consider they bled for the Sabres when they were kids? That’s a very interesting discussion in my opinion. The Sabres had to have been part of the reason they put on skates in the first place.
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Maybe you strongly identify yourself with your ethnicity or religion. Maybe you’re parents would be upset if you didn’t marry a Jewish person or another Italian. That may seem strange if you’re like me and your parents never had expectation of that kind but I respect and understand that some do. I imagine that the sense of belonging is extremely desirable to those parents. It’s much more comfortable to be able to understand where this unknown person coming from, somewhat at least. He’s okay, I get why he thinks that way. I understand what he and his family stand for. This is a suitable match. He can marry our daughter.
Being a Sabres fan is nothing like a religious or ethnic affiliation and it’s nothing like marriage but there’s still a familiarity, right? At the very least, we can identify with other Buffalonians. They’ve certainly had to shovel snow off their driveway a few million times, probably eaten their fair share of food from Mighty Taco, maybe even been thrown out of a couple of bars on Chippewa or, if that’s not exactly your thing, march through the Allentown Art Festival every summer. Didn’t think I knew about the AAF, did you? This place has truly spliced itself into my DNA. It’s probably in yours too. Buffalo never leaves the people who have called this place home. Ahh, Buffalo.
Now that you’re feeling all warm and fuzzy inside for our beloved city, I want you stop reading and watch this video . Seriously… turn off the music, turn down the television, whatever. Just go watch it; watch it twice; watch it ten times.
When moments like that happen, does it matter who is next to you so long as he or she is cheering? What difference does it really make if the person next to you smokes cigarettes and lies to their spouse about it or if they volunteer their time at a homeless shelter or if they steal that blue washer fluid outside of every gas station? I’m not asking you whether you care about that stuff or not just whether or not it matters. During the game, they’re just Sabres fans screaming. For the same reason as you, they’re happy or sad or hopeful or pissed off. Everyone from, or had once lived, or is currently living in Buffalo gets it. There is a connection, a relationship, an understanding. Ugh, the Buffalo Sabres.
Pat Kane might as well have been standing next to you when that shot went in. As that moment carried itself out, the circumstances of Kane’s life didn’t matter. He wasn’t a promising hockey prospect or a person with a tremendous ego. He was just a fan of hockey — of the Sabres. Now as a celebrity of sorts it’s interesting to consider how little he differs from us foundationally.