That pretty much says it all, no?
I was so confused as a child whenever a professional athlete jumped from team to team. The devotion I felt toward the Boston Red Sox was unwavering, and I could never imagine that loyalty changing with the mere cashing of a check — albeit, a very large check.
I was also skeptical of people who were fans of teams, but had no actual connection to the area the team was from (I’m sure some of this had to do with the fact that most of these people I found to be Yankee fans).
Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics, UMass — anything having to do with New England sports ruled my house growing up. But, this morning when I turned my TV on and discovered the Steelers game was being broadcast, I let out an audible ‘Yay!’, and realized that my own diehard allegiance had indeed changed.
I’d followed the Steelers for a few years due to a Pittsburgh-born boyfriend, but I was never one to let a man break the holy, almost matrimonial, bond I have with my sports teams. Even after I moved to the Steel City and enjoyed occasionally taking part in the Steelers mania, it still felt unnatural and wrong to be an actual Steelers fan. Rooting for them is one thing, but turning your back on Tom Brady? What would Gisele say?
Nonetheless, the breaking point came not in Pittsburgh or Boston, but in San Francisco. It’s not a secret that I sometimes feel far from home in California and displaced from all that I love about the east coast, but here I am surrounded by a community of diehard Steelers fans, and somewhere in the last year my half-assed enjoyment has turned into real fandom. I’m not entirely sure what tipped the scale, but sometimes being far from everyone and everything you love, you find comfort where you least expect it.
So, there it is — despite my hatred of Ben Roethlisberger and the fact that I look terrible in yellow — I think I am now a Steelers fan.* And it’s definitely not due to winning — cause they totally sucked today.
*Sorry, Dad.
