August 01, 2017
While watching the Phillies' eventual walk-off win against the Braves Sunday afternoon, something kept bugging me.
I'm a fan of young outfielder Nick Williams so far. Kid's got pop! But...
Why does he have to wear No. 5, the number of longtime Phillie (and legendary lady-killer) Pat Burrell? I get it, Burrell never made an All-Star team, and although he's a member of the team's Wall of Fame, his number likely won't be retired among the other Phillies greats who led the team to its second World Series championship. That being said, it just felt wrong. After years of watching Pat the Bat do things like make Billy Wagner his play-thing, it was weird seeing another No. 5.
I tweeted as much, prompting a response from a fellow fan who suggested I needed to "let go" of the 2008 title season. While I don't think the reply lined up with exactly what I was saying, it was a point that intrigued me and one that I think I agree with (more on that later).
When should fans "let go" of their team's past accomplishments?
First, let's define "let go." It would be pure silliness to suggest a fan can't reminisce and appreciate a past accomplishment after a certain expiration date. No, letting go is something a little less specific. Let's think about a fan base's side consumption – conversation with other fans, watching highlights, anything other than actually watching the games – as a percentage. If a past title, great player or other accomplishment takes up more than 50 percent of that consumption, you haven't let go.
In Philadelphia, the Phillies are the easiest target for having trouble moving on from the past. They're the only team to win a title in the past 30 years, and they've stunk ever since a five-year playoff run ended. The steep drop-off has produced a strange subculture of nostalgia. Case in point is the @2008Philz Twitter account, a clever social media concoction that gives game scores and team updates as if nine years ago was happening now.
It's a fun throwback to an even more fun time, but it's important to remember that too heavy a dose of nostalgia can be dangerous. Like anything else that's extremely comforting and unchallenging – drinking, junk food, reminiscing about high school days – you can develop a dependency. For the past few seasons, it's sometimes felt like the endless stream of standing ovations for past heroes was the highlight of the year.
I felt a sense of relief when Ryan Howard was finally sent out to pasture, not because of his decline in play, but it felt like we could finally move on and focus on the bad team playing right in front of our eyes. Bad baseball can be fun!
More importantly, being consumed so much with the pinnacle of success in sports can make you less appreciative of the little moments, which are often what keep you going when the going gets tough. The Ringer's Chris Ryan, a Philly guy, recently explained the importance of "small victories" while writing about the Sixers' much-maligned "Process," remembering Andre Iguodala's big 3-pointer against the Celtics in the 2012 NBA playoffs:
I was there. It felt pretty great. It was a small victory, but that’s what sports fandom is made of. Eight teams have won the NBA championship this century. So there are a lot of those small victories to go around — Iguodala hitting a 3 in the middle of a conference semifinals, John Wall leaping onto a scorer’s table against Boston in 2017 (in a series the Wizards would go on to lose), Damian Lillard crushing the Rockets in the first round in 2014, Kevin Garnett getting 32 and 21 against Chris Webber to send the Wolves into the Lakers’ slaughterhouse, a.k.a. the 2004 Western Conference finals.
Jumping on the scorer’s table in the conference semis is the best. Is it as good as a parade and confetti and crying over the Larry O’Brien Trophy? No. But for a long time, if given the choice between trophies or nothing, I was happy with the scorer’s table, and I think a lot of people — fans of the 22 teams that haven’t won a title since 2000 — would agree with me. Or at least they would have.
If you're clinging to the past, it makes it harder to enjoy those small victories, like every Odubel Herrera bat flip or Freddy Galvis defensive gem.
And if that nostalgia goes too far, you just become unbearably annoying, like Cowboys fans. The team has won two playoff games in the last 20 years, but they have five rings, something Dallas faithful like to remind you and everyone else about. Did they mention the team has five rings? That's right, five of them, in case you didn't hear the first time.
Memories are fun, and they're yours to keep. But for the sake of your own enjoyment, you have to know when to let go. There's no specific timetable, but you'll feel it when it's time – like when you’re watching old clips of a playoff run when the team is currently playing a game, or when you’re upset that a promising young player is wearing the number of a really-good-but-not-great icon of years past.
Besides, you don't want to be the one insufferably recalling how good your team once was. Just ask Dem Boys.
