Thursday, April 22, 2010

I Bleed Orange, After All


The majority of people in my life know that I graduated from Syracuse University's Newhouse School, yet many of them are unaware that, when my ''college search'' began, Syracuse was not in my purview of top university choices. The reason behind this was because my middle brother graduated from its School of Architecture in 2004 and, having gone to tour the campus when he was applying, I had already witnessed first-hand its not-so-pleasant surroundings and gloomy weather (and knew full well of its intense winters). However, after my top two choices - Ithaca College & Fordham U. - didn't pan out, I interviewed with the friendly Admissions people from Syracuse and consequently took the plunge, deeming it the best fit for me.

I honestly cannot say anything bad about my college experience. Most of my strongest friendships were cemented in Syracuse, and they've truly become an intrinsic part of my life. We all came to share common inclinations because of how well we bonded while studying the same (or similar) concentrations. In doing so, we consistently went out and did most activities together - from enjoying 'indie' concerts on campus to frequenting bars downtown - and it enforced our union even more. We were all, in effect, a big cluster of a family forged by our mutual interests. However...when it came to college sports (i.e. Syracuse basketball and football games), I was always MIA. This wasn't because I disliked the teams themselves, but in fact due to my own particular personality...

Throughout my entire life, I've never had a passion or interest for sports. Nothing. Zilch. While growing up in Puerto Rico, my mom placed me in different after-school sports in hopes of finding which one could be my 'calling,' but none of them ever stuck. Although I did end up in a swim team for over eight years, any other sport was - to me - a waste of time. Flash-forward to present time, and I'm still very much the same way. At Syracuse, every time I saw throngs of college students, 'townies,' and families decorated in orange regalia and heading to a game, I was usually walking in the opposite direction.

As shocking as it may be to some, let me put my aversion to sports in simpler terms: In my four years of college, I NEVER WENT TO A SINGLE BASKETBALL GAME.

At Syracuse, though, I could more or less evade the crowds and commotion from the games and focus on things that truly interested me. Now, living in New York City, I've found that it's a bit harder to brush off talking about Syracuse sports, primarily because of its endemic nature here on the East Coast. Whether they're Syracuse alumnus or not, lots of people living in New York state follow the Orange faithfully, be it during football season or the NCAA basketball games - and it's this latter sports season which recently exposed me to this world that I ably evaded during my college years - that of the obsessively die-hard 'Cuse fan.

About a month ago - in the midst of the NCAA season - my friend Jamie invited me to see a Syracuse game at a bar in midtown Manhattan. When I arrived at the place, there were many people decked out in orange t-shirts and baseball caps - while I stood out with a gray hoodie and blue polo shirt. I greeted Jamie and we talked for a while until her friend Megan joined us to watch the game. Like Jamie, Megan is also a Syracuse alum, but this was my first time meeting her. Right off the bat, she tells me that she is indeed one of those 'Cuse fans - and she proves it by showing me the blue & orange socks she was wearing, plus informing me she has 'Cuse basketball memorabilia adorning her cubicle at work. I was already liking this girl - more so because of how friendly and funny she was - but I knew that I hadn't yet seen her "hardcore phase"...

The rest of Jamie's friends soon arrived and we congregated in a corner to watch the game with pitchers of beer in hand. What followed was a tumultuous clash between Syracuse and Indiana's Butler University. Throughout the entire game, I felt as if I was conducting an ethnographic study on sports aficionados in their natural habitats: witnessing a varied display of pure emotions being poured out in unabashed glory. While Jamie's male friends mostly kept things on an even keel - with only sporadic crude yells and the occasional expletive - others, particularly grown men who should've long gone abandoned this behavior, tended to immerse themselves in violent screaming and tantrum fits. As all of this went down, I would occasionally glance at Megan and see her with a grim face - our college team's failures visibly represented in her demeanor. One minute, she and I could've been laughing about something, but then in the next, her facial expression would change dramatically - as if she had just learned that her entire world was coming to an end. What struck me about Megan was not so much the fact that she was sad at Syracuse's effort in the game, but rather the manner in which she reflected this to the people around her. Whereas others in our group would lash out at the plasma TV in random bouts of anger, Megan would simply shake her head solemnly, like a mother disappointed over a child's behavior.

The ending to the game, as we all know now, was unfortunate. Butler pulled off a very surprising win over the Syracuse Orange, and that shocking feeling was truly felt inside the bar once the game concluded. Most people hustled out of the place almost immediately, while others remained in their seats and silently drank the rest of their beers. As for Megan, she swiftly turned to me, uttered a sad "Nice to meet you" and walked out the door without saying goodbye to anybody. Afterwards, as I left the bar with Jamie, I kept trying to understand the passionate display of sports allegiance I had just witnessed. How can a person invest so much of oneself - time, affection, scrutiny - into something that is so trivial and, yes, unpredictable? Even more mind-boggling to me - how is a fixation on the ups & downs of a given sport lead you to feel more connected with - and valuable to - the institution that the sport embodies?

Players do what they're trained to do, and do so because they are fulfilled by the dynamism of the sport and of the games themselves. Sports fans, realistically speaking, have no input that directly affects this process, yet they always act as if they do have a say over matters.

After having read a book about Alabama's Crimson Tide football team and their obsessively-loyal followers (a great, insightful read, by the way), I've come to better understand the reason why certain people latch themselves so strongly to a team that can, at any moment, crush their spirits only by losing a mere game. This 'Cuse fanaticism I had just experienced was a clear representation of this, yet, despite grasping better the feelings behind this behavior, I still couldn't see myself devoted to such a concept or idea - especially in this case so endemic to my alma mater. It's one thing that my younger self in Puerto Rico didn't take part in sports because of their lack of zest - but why not now? When people as agnostic to sports as I am still wear their orange shirts to watch 'Cuse games, mostly out of an innate sense of pride and loyalty?

Now, several weeks after the NCAA games finalized, I finally understand that passion. Because now, as we speak, Syracuse students that are about to graduate in May are facing a challenging fight of their own: to "take back Commencement" (as their chants defiantly affirm) and remove JP Morgan Chase CEO Jamie Dimon as their graduation speaker. Not only have my friends and acquaintances voiced their concerns strongly about this tone-deaf selection, but they've gone much further and undertaken a ''grass roots'' protest of sorts: enacting an online petition to oust Dimon, loudly championing their cause in the middle of the QUAD and even placing this fight in the national spotlight - with many blog sites (like this one) reporting on it.

For the first time in a long while, I'm jealous that I'm not at Syracuse anymore. In this current dilemma - with a new roster of graduating students facing down one of the men who's had a hand in fracturing their future and millions others - I think I could surely feel comfortable letting out an angry rant on campus. This is a fight I'm more than happy to rally behind. Even if students don't get their desired result in the end, they've already gone above and beyond as a communal group - they've shown an institution that they have a powerful voice, and one that won't be shut out for the sake of corporate interests.

This makes me feel proud to be a Syracuse alum. It makes me want to yell energetically, lash out, and yes - maybe throw a tantrum or two.

It seems like I bleed Orange, after all...