|
Sidelines Kalani Simpson |
Lakers joining that
‘love to hate’ clubIT is a strange thing, the intense hatred we feel for different sports teams. I can't stand the Cowboys, for example, or the Yankees. Pitoo.
And, oh, how I hate BYU. The Cougars have broken my heart too many times. I hate them most of all.
It is a funny thing, all this misplaced passion.
I bring this up because lately, sitting in front of the TV, I find myself hating the Lakers.
This is a new one. I was never a fan, but I've never felt like this. I always loved Magic. Loved Rambis and Kareem.
Loved Chick.
I like Shaq. His elbow-shuffle-shoulder-shuffle-dunk style may be ruining the game, true, but his sense of humor somehow overcomes all.
Love Karl Malone (anyone who quotes from the TV show "Kung Fu" has won me over forever).
Love purple, love gold.
Love "Fletch." (He truly defined grace under pressure.)
And yet, watching them win, a loathing oozes through me.
I think we can trace it to Kobe Bryant, his rape charge, the ensuing circus, and how he's conducted himself throughout. And the fact that even if he is, indeed, innocent, he is still, as one great mind of our time once put it, Not That Innocent.
But truth be told, I really didn't like him before that, either.
Sometimes we can't quite explain it (every state in America seems to hate George Steinbrenner, Sports Illustrated tells us).
Sometimes there's no good reason for it, it's just a feeling we get. Sometimes it's tradition, ingrained, established at birth. A natural rivalry.
Sometimes we know exactly why we hold a grudge.
(See BYU, above.)
My dad has told me many times of the days on the Big Island when Hilo High had 2,000 students and everyone else had 200. How Hilo always won, dominated everything, just dominated. And still, Hilo threw its weight around, got every break and all the calls.
And so the Vikings could lose every game in every sport for the next 20 years, and my dad would mind not at all. Not one bit.
It seems to be part of the agony and ecstasy of sport. A common thread through most every sports fan, a never-ending source of elation and heartbreak. Everybody needs a foil.
Tom had Jerry. Jerry had Newman.
It doesn't seem to be such a bad thing. Usually. As long as you don't start out crazy.
It's perfectly normal to have a team you love to hate.
I am reminded of high school on a Saturday night. Our Lahainaluna football team had played St. Anthony the night before, and we had gone back to Wailuku to watch Baldwin-Maui High.
It was a win-win for us, you see, in that it didn't matter which one of them won; it meant one of our most bitter rivals (most bitter rivals? There were four teams!) would be on the other end.
I couldn't tell you who won.
What I do remember is this: When it was over, and one of our mortal enemies had been crushed, Thomas Brown said something I have never forgotten.
"Let's go down to the locker room," Tommy B. said, "and see the looks on their faces."
See the Columnists section for some past articles.
Kalani Simpson can be reached at ksimpson@starbulletin.com