I hate all Northern California fans, especially those of the San Francisco Giants.
I don’t hate the fans of my beloved Raiders, though. I love them. They’re family. I hate the fans of Sacramento, even though I wanted them to beat the Lakers. But most of all, I hate all fans that chant that dreaded chant.
“Beat L.A.”
It’s notorious. It’s jealously.
I’ve always hated the Giants; it’s my right of passage as a Dodger fan. It’s like the Raiders and the Broncos. If you are a Raider fan, you hate the Broncos and everybody on the team, and if you are a Bronco fan, you hate the Raiders and everybody on their team. It is the same thing with the Dodgers and Giants. Liking both teams is committing a mortal sin.
What those losers in San Francisco did on Sunday is a shame, and the little respect I had for them is gone. Those losers in San Francisco on Sunday had the nerve to chant “Beat L.A.” at the Giants game and they were playing the Colorado Rockies.
I know they hate the Dodgers in San Francisco, and I have no problem when they chant “Beat L.A.” when they play the Dodgers, but you can’t have hatred for team in a different sport just because your rivals with a team of another sport in the city. That would be like fans of the Boston Red Sox hating the New York Islanders.
All I want to do is go to a Dodgers-Giants game in San Francisco and hold up a sign that says “Can’t Beat L.A.”
I even hate L.A. fans, and I’m from L.A., born and raised. You have to be born in L.A. to hate L.A. fans.
I don’t hate all L.A. fans, though, just the ones who arrive late and leave early. What’s the point in coming to a Dodger game in the third inning and leaving in the seventh? It’s not just that. It’s the ones who talk on their cell phones standing behind home plate waving.
The ones in suits who take up the good seats and talk about why trading Mike Piazza was a good thing are usually the people who arrive late and leave early.
The ones who wear Mike Piazza jerseys: you don’t wear the jersey of a player who isn’t on the team anymore. It is the ethics of being a fan. I hate the ones who cheered when Barry Bonds hit a homerun at Dodger Stadium this year and last year and the ones who will cheer Gary Sheffield. You know who you are, and I hate you all.
I even hate Laker fans. Not the true Laker fans. The true fans are the ones who know Magic’s Lakers would mop the floor against Shaq’s Lakers.
The ones who stuck with when the Lakers lost to Houston in ’86, when they got swept by Detroit in ’89, blew a 2-0 lead against Phoenix in ’93 and when they were swept by Utah and San Antonio. Not those bandwagon jumpers.
They’re the worst of all, or the people who like them just because they moved to L.A. They’re almost as bad as the bandwagon jumpers.
You have to at least remember when Magic hit that hook shot against the Celtics in ’85. That’s a Laker fan. To be a true L.A. fan, you at least had to be here in ’84 or before. That way you went through all the heartaches a fan goes through.
There are ethics of being a fan. Now, some of you may think you’re a good fan, but if you see yourself in any of the following characters, you aren’t.
– The guy who wears the jersey of someone who isn’t on the team anymore. People, come on. Dodger Stadium is filled with people with Mike Piazza jerseys and Raul Mondesi jerseys. All I can say is: Why? Also, if you’re with someone who does this, you are just as bad.
I must confess I used to do this. I wasn’t as bad, though. I got a Hideo Nomo jersey for Christmas, and a season later he was gone. I never wore it again, my mom did, and my brother wore Piazza’s jersey. The only time one can wear a jersey of a player who isn’t on the team anymore is if that player is not playing anymore.
– The guy who keeps score at a game but is too into it. There is nothing wrong with scorekeeping. I do it.
But I’m talking about the guy who writes down little notes next to each batter and offers little facts like: “Sean Green is up. He is 3-for-4 with a seven total bases.” (Yes, this is the guy who doesn’t have a girl on either side of him.)
– The guy who thinks that every call is a bad call and turns to the guy behind him to let him know. This is also the guy who thinks he knows everything about baseball and says stuff like, “I can’t believe the Dodgers won the World Series in six games in 1989.”
– Then there’s Drunken Belligerent Guy. This guy is a ton of fun but just acts like a complete jackass.
He will insult just about everybody in the area, hoot and holler at your girlfriend, and drop some F-bombs. He does have his advantages, though. He is easy to spot, sometimes before the game starts. Time to gamble. You’re sitting with a couple of friends, each of you throws in about 10 bucks and picks what inning he will get tossed, and you get the pot. It always happens.
– The guy who brings his glove. It’s cute when you’re 10, but once you pass age 15, let it go. If you do this when you’re 15, you’re a loser; past 15, you should be legally beaten.
– The guy in the luxury box who doesn’t even know what an RBI is, and drops a foul ball, and it’s always an easy one. Added bonus when the fans start booing, and he gets that sheepish smile. He then sits back down in his leather chair.
God, I hate that guy.