Blindly Following The Crowd Means Only One Thing - You're Blind

I watched a brawl break out at a football game a few months ago.

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Not on the field – in the stands.

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And rather than stop the conflict, a majority of the surrounding fans simply pulled out their cell phones and began to film.? Within hours it was posted on social media – where it garnered millions of views.

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A couple of nitwits – fueled by beer – gained instant “celebrity”.

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If you invest a few minutes on your laptop you can find similar incidents across every avenue of the sports world.

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It’s not limited to the professionals.

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Little League baseball seems to be a hotbed for outrageous behavior – where the only common denominator isn’t beer – it’s parents so consumed by their kid’s team that they are reduced to role modeling generational stupidity. ?

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I guess that explains why the word “fan” is derived from “fanatic,” which means a person who is extremely enthusiastic about and devoted to some interest or activity.

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Enthusiastic. Well, that’s one way of describing it.

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For some reason I found myself reflecting on this notion of ?the “fan mentality” as I watched the news the last few weeks.

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I’ve begun to believe that a fan mentality can be dangerous if we’re not careful. When it comes to our country it’s too easy to be reduced to spectators – drunks stuck in the stands and watching a national game we don’t fully understand.

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But very, very enthusiastic about it….

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It’s simple, really.

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You got a red team and you got a blue team. ?Ask almost any adult you know which team they’re on and they’ll gladly model their jersey of choice.

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Red or blue…blue or red.

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And within those teams you have far right and far left mentalities.

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These fans get either extreme red jerseys or extreme blue jerseys.

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Ideally they are seated in the far reaches of the stands.? They’re more prone to inciting violence.?

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Except in this era of social media there are no far reaches.

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And a lot of “the deeps” are drunk…really, really drunk.

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Drunk on their “objective” facts – which probably could never be in error.

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Or drunk on their opinions – which could certainly never be in error.

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There is one point of commonality in these fringe fans though.? They are united in faith – faith that the other side are all idiots.

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It’s become a favorite topic of conversation in the national discourse – pointing at the opposition and condemning their stupidity – their dangerous influence on our future.

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I support the home team. The other guys are the away team.?

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I hate them.

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And fueling the flames even more are the vendors that prowl the stands – serving alcohol and hawking their wares – stirring emotions – “poking the bear”.

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The vendors have a name – we call them journalists – or reporters – or commentators.

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The drivel many of them sell comes disguised as bottled water – clean and unfiltered.?

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But most of it is hard alcohol – and there is no distinction in whether it’s sold to adults or minors.

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Get enough of it into the “deep” jersey people and you create chaos – and great video as people clash in the streets or cities burn.

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Or someone dies.

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But the real tragedy came be found elsewhere – in what I call The Fan Paradox.

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The reasonably normal people in the stands – dressed in their team colors – that watch and shake their heads – or pull out their cell phones and begin to film.

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And then go back home and perpetuate the myth that the other team started it.

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I’ve decided The Fan Paradox is a dangerous phenomenon.

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Put enough people in colored jerseys – make them believe the other side is the enemy – watch us devolve as a nation.

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It’s allowing the far corners of either side of the political spectrum to dictate to the majority.

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It’s allowing the shameless hucksters that hawk the intoxicant known as misinformation or carefully vetted opinion to substitute their concoction for the pure essence of what is truth.

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Clean, unfiltered truth.

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The Fan Paradox is becoming more real everyday.

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We’ve all been reduced to enthusiastic observers – disgusted, offended, enraged – but so blindly committed to our team that we can’t wrestle away long enough to realize that if we destroy the game all the colored jerseys will mean nothing.

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The stadium will burn.

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I’ve begun to hope a new color will emerge – one that actually focuses on the game and not just the score.

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One that is historically associated with nobility – piety – and even spirituality.

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A deep, radiant purple – so magnificent that those of us engrossed in the antics of the fringe all decide that it’s time for a wardrobe change.

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It won’t be easy.

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I like being a fan.

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I like cheering and chanting for my team – and derisively yelling at the enemy.

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Until I realize the real enemy lingers elsewhere – far outside the stadium – watching us tear down the game.

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Smiling as we begin to stumble.

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Fools – calling other fools – fools.

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Maybe it’s time we recognize that we all pull for one home team.

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And take back the field.?