A Different Kind of Fan

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been passionately rooting for sports teams, political causes, and those few special politicians I consider heroes.?Even at six, having watched my father speak on street corners, I cared deeply for Henry Wallace and bemoaned Harry Truman’s presidential victory.?I reveled each time the Brooklyn Dodgers won the Pennant and mourned with equal depth when they lost to the Yankees in the World Series.?I felt personally defeated when the Celtics of Russell, Cousy, and Heinsohn, year after year, demolished the Knicks.?Years later, as a Bostonian of a few decades, I exulted when the Patriots and the Celtics soared to championships.

My political causes, or teams, have been those that urge us to bend toward justice. This goal has been at the center of my moral universe ever since I sat, each evening, at our family’s kitchen table for dinner and politics.?(It was hard to say which was more nourishing.)?Progress towards a just society has not followed a steady or even, at times, a sturdy course.?But I’ve been able to endure the down times — McCarthyism, Reaganism, even Trumpism — because I’ve always had faith.?And faith, not reason, is the right word here — that those on the side of justice would outfight and outlive those who care so much less for “the people.”?

As for sports, from my college days on I knew that it wasn’t cool for a “serious” person like me to let my moods rise and fall with the fates of my teams.?But they did.?In my younger days I’d admit to Franny that, if I knew half as much about my professional fields as I did about football and basketball, I’d have made something of myself.?We’d laugh, but that statement was true to who I was—a fan, a partisan, an expert.?

As I grew into adulthood during the late 1950’s and early 1960’s, it also wasn’t cool to be passionate about politics.?It was un-American, more in keeping with the radical mobs in Latin America who were overthrowing this or that government.?Dwight Eisenhower, the post New Deal president, was beloved for his calm, measured demeanor.?Eventually even Joe McCarthy was spurned, partly because he had let his passions get the best of him.?It wasn’t cool to be so engaged in political, but I was.?Truth be told, I have never been cool.

As I step back to gain perspective, it seems that my passion must have something to do with the comfort of being part of a team, a mythical community.?Joining with millions of others and roaring our pleasure and pain, our loyalty and companionship — much as I roared on the Civil Rights and anti-war marches in Washington.?I remember very well the feeling a deep comradeship with my fellow marchers, something akin to love.?I have sought that feeling through my life.

On the other hand, I never particularly cared for the sports communities I joined.?Nor did I identify with them.?I often thought them loud, boorish, and ignorant.?But that didn’t stop me from joining in the cheers for a great pass, a beautiful shot, a championship victory.?During the frenzied moments of big games, that mob felt like a community to me.?We were united in pursuit of a goal.?

But being part of a team or community was only part of the equation.?When I was young, we were poor and identified with the working class but hoped for more.?My temperament directed me to the future, a better future, to what might be … if only.?Not to the present.?I now see that that future-orientation, that quality of mind, has turned my attention away from many of the glorious things that are part of my daily life.

This realization comes not a day too soon, because my teams are losing, and I see no end in sight to their slides.?The glorious championship runs for the Patriots and Celtics are done.?My jump shot and my unsurpassed sprint to the end zone are in the past.?

More importantly, my political teams are losing, consistently.?The fight for democracy, justice, and climate control seems weak, while the forces of zealotry, selfishness and bigotry seem likely to triumph, at least during the coming decade.?I find it hard to imagine that we will find the will to clean up our planet before it is too late. The opposing political teams grow stronger as they spew hate, lies, and carbon dioxide with abandon.?

So, I feel a bit lost.?Rooting and hoping for victory has been an immersive part of my life.?It has been what I think and read and talk about.?I need to find the discipline to move rooting out from the center of my mind and my heart.?But I wonder what will replace it.?

Figuring that out seems to me the central project for the years I have left.?Rooting is an inherently future-oriented activity.?You hope that your team will win, each game, each season.?If it does, you savor the victory, then plan for how to keep it going strong.?If it doesn’t, you consider how to make things better for the next game, the next season. But I need something that feels whole, complete, in the nearer term.?And something less attached to victory.?Something with a community, however small or large, that I like for its own sake.?

Any friend would tell me I don’t have to search far.?If I can change my focus—just the focus, itself—I don’t think I’ll have to search far.?There are many people and experiences that I value immensely.?It’s a matter of shifting my figure/ground perspective.?I can’t imagine purging myself of the rooting habit, but I can hope to increase the wattage of what I’ve got.?In other words, I want to let what is be more important than what might be.?

For example, to my children and grandchildren—each one of them.?Right now,

Figuring that out seems to me the central project for the years I have left.?Rooting is an inherently future-oriented activity.?You hope that your team will win, each game, each season.?If it does, you savor the victory, then plan for how to keep it going strong.?If it doesn’t, you consider how to make things better for the next game, the next season. But I need something that feels whole, complete, in the nearer term.?And something less attached to victory.?Something with a community, however small or large, that I like for its own sake.

Oddly, if I can change my focus, I don’t think I’ll have to search far.?There are many people and experiences that I value.?It’s a matter of shifting my figure/ground perspective.?I can’t imagine purging myself of the rooting habit, but I can hope to focus on other matters, to increase the wattage of what I’ve got.?In other words, I want to let what is be more important than what might be.?

For example, who my children and grandchildren are – each one of them.?Right now at this minute, they are whole, vibrant, fascinating people.?I don’t have to imagine what they might achieve some day.?So, too, my dear friends.?And even the large circle of acquaintances who often delight me.?

Then there are the little things I do socially and politically that feel right, that mean well, even if they don’t lead to, or even intend to create, dramatic victories or transformations.?Like coaching those young organizational leaders who work with immigrants in our cities, with families trying to send their children to college, and doctors trying to cope with hospital conditions during Covid.?Like coaching political operatives, just behind those in the spotlight, helping them to be and feel effective, despite the odds against them, and to let them know that they are doing well enough.?When I can acknowledge that these bits of support are often helpful, or at least I’m told that they are, I feel that I’m doing enough.

Like listening to podcasts about aging, poverty, scientific invention, while taking my daily walk, and getting a kick out of learning, just learning.?Like the beauty of sitting with Franny, each morning, reading the newspaper and glancing through the giant window doors that look out on a forest, and especially when we are privileged to share our world with a pack of 4 or 5 white-tailed deer, prancing by like ballet dancers.?At that moment, they are mine, and I am entranced.?These are unearned gifts and special for just that.

There are so many, many experiences, every day, that call on me.?Focus here, Barry.?You’re getting better at it.?