My grandfather is a gentle, quiet man who appreciates spending time with his family. For his Christmas present, his sons (my father and uncle) got tickets for a Bruins-Rangers hockey game at Madison Square Garden for the three of them as well as their three daughters (my cousins and I). We traveled to the city and drove into the city together, enjoying the bustle of the city and laughing at the generation gaps.
As we went through the metal detectors, the guards continuously asked my grandfather to take his phone out of his pocket, not believing he didn’t own one.
After getting the overpriced burgers and drinks, we settled into our seats that could be described as nosebleed seats but the view was actually pretty fantastic because we could see all of the ice. My father and I were ecstatic when we realized there were a few other Bruins fans in the vicinity. We were all excited for a good game, unaware that the most interesting spectacle to watch would be the young man sitting in the row in front of us.
He was a Rangers fan and appeared to be in his late 20s or early 30s. He was sitting with a girl, who was clearly a girlfriend, and he had a beer in his hand. Halfway through the first period, he either got bored or just wanted to show his utter devotion to his team. He stood up and screamed so hard his voice cracked, “Let's go rangers!”
At first, we all thought it was funny. We assumed he was maybe drunk or was just trying to show off. We exchanged looks and laughed it off. However, as the second period started, we realized he was double fisting—he had a beer in one hand and some type of mixed drink in the other.
The only reason we realized this was because he would stand up and scream that same slogan with both drinks in his hand. We all watched with apprehension, expecting him to fling alcohol on someone or drop one of his cups.
By the third period, we were all tired of him screaming his mantra trying to whip the crowd into a frenzy and chant with him. He turned around at one point and yelled up into the mass of people, “You call yourselves Rangers fans? Why don’t you show it? Let's go rangers!”
He did get some calls back, but the majority of the people didn’t respond, causing him to become angrier and louder, which didn’t seem possible, but he certainly tried.
Security guards appeared at both the sides of our section in the crowd, keeping a wary eye on this man who seemed determined to start a riot of yelling support for the Rangers. His girlfriend sensed the danger at this point, and she grabbed his arm, forcing him to sit again, and told him he was being obnoxious and it was going to get them kicked out of there.
He quieted down until the end when the Rangers—I’ll admit—made a pretty spectacular comeback and scored the winning goal in the last minute of the third period. This man jumped up and cheered as loudly as possible, but only after spilling half his beer on his neighbor, who looked up at him in annoyed disbelief.
I appreciate celebrating love for a sports team very much. For me, watching sports is only fun if you care deeply for your team and you hope it will work out for them because you love them like family. Watching and cheering with passion is a way of showing you really care, but there is a line. No one likes a guy like the one I described above.
He terrorized the children in the row in front of him, blocked the view of the people in the two rows behind him, spilled beer on a neighbor and was all around incredibly obnoxious. For the fans around you and for your own dignity, please don’t be that guy.
Be respectful, supportive and passionate, but if you don’t recognize your own voice from yelling so loudly, it’s time to shut up.
