What Does Loyalty Cost a Sports Fan, and Who Really Benefits?

Half empty stadiums, fans donning “SELL THE TEAM” paper bags on their heads and online petitions demanding in no uncertain terms, the same thing…why would a person choose to be a Pittsburgh Pirates fan?

Coaching gaffes, a never-ending quarterback carousel, rain drenched October Sundays with stockpiling losses…why would you choose to be a New York Jets fan?

The misery of being a sports fan for certain teams outweighs the normal sensibilities of human common sense.

In simpler terms, being dedicated to a losing team seems almost insane, to most.

The most disappointing thing about it is that the owners of these failing teams do not deserve the fanbase’s loyalty. Nor, at the end of the day, do they care about how the fanbase feels. Because if they did, wouldn’t things be different?

Robert Nutting, the owner of the Pittsburgh Pirates, has unequivocally shown his lack of actual concern for the Pirates fanbase. Trading players, never structuring the team to compete, controlling one of the lowest payrolls in the league and profiting off the team’s TV and ticket sale revenue has shown that at the end of the day, owning the team is just another thing that Nutting does. Just something he adds to his resume. Just something he lines his pockets with. And for that, the Pittsburgh fans suffer. Even more so, Paul Skenes, the team’s phenom pitcher, may spend the early years of his career on what may feel like a deserted island.

Will a Pirates fan see a winning team in the next five years? Ten years?

If a fan were to ask Nutting that question, what would he say?

His answer would probably be an answer of yes… and that would be delusional.

What is the cost of being a loyal fan?

When Tom Brady left the New England Patriots, seemingly, everything fell apart. The love affair with Bill Belichick came to a tumultuous end and the short-lived term of Jerod Mayo made for the New England fanbase to question if the future was as bright as the past had been. For a fanbase, that had gotten accustomed to the grand success of Super Bowls and playoff runs…this territory was desolate and unkind. A place like Boston, who had experienced enough years of misery before the Red Sox finally broke through or waited for the Celtics to finally add another banner to the rafters, for the Patriots to be bad again was not a welcomed sight. The fanbase’s disgruntlement was heard louder than ever before and any continued downward slope was not going to be tolerated. Robert Kraft, the Patriots’ owner, knew that. Even if he would never publicly admit it, he knew the anger had reached a fever pitch. Hiring Mike Vrabel was what the fanbase wanted…and they were given what they wanted.

The immediate success of Mike Vrabel has proven that Kraft made the right decision. Being a Patriots fan still yielded a positive outcome. Their days of losing came to an end quickly. For them, being a fan cost them a few years of disappointment and then there was success once again.

Could a Patriots fan sit next to a Jets fan and promise better days ahead? Tell them to trust that it will all work out in the end? Probably not. Most likely, the Jets fan would look at the Patriots fan, as if he had lost his mind completely. But then, the Patriots fan would wonder why anyone would want to be a Jets fan anyway?

Do team owners care about what the teams want, truly? Even a failing franchise like the Pittsburgh Pirates still have people that show up to their games. Still pay for an afternoon in the July sun, eating a hot dog and watching their team. And with that money, Robert Nutting, still lines his pockets. So, does he necessarily care about the fans’ anger and sadness while he continues to profit from their misfortune? Will the Pittsburgh Pirates end up with the same fate as the Oakland A’s? As ominous as it is…can anything be truly ruled out? The A’s had plenty of baseball history that almost feels like it vanished into the doors of the old Oakland stadium. The Pirates fans don’t deserve that but did the A’s fans deserve it either?

What is the cost of being a loyal fan?

Babe Ruth was traded to the Yankees from the Red Sox, leading to “The Curse of Bambino.”

Mookie Betts was traded to the Los Angelos Dodgers, leading to you know…one World Series title after another.

The New York Knicks made multiple gambles including acquiring Andrea Bargnani and Eddy Curry, while making a bunch of other choices that deemed them irrelevant for quite some time before they landed Jalen Brunson.

And then perhaps the one that shook the stratosphere, Luka Doncic was traded to the Los Angeles Lakers.

All the fanbases experienced agony, at is deepest core. While the people in charge of the teams defended their actions…most of them cut the fanbases to deep wounds. Did any of those organizations truly care about what the fanbases wanted? Ask a Knicks fan if all those years of ineptitude was pure joy. Ask a Mavericks fan if trading Luka wasn’t a gut punch to the soul.

A friend of mine happens to be a longtime Pittsburgh Pirates fan. He often speaks glowingly about Willie Stargell and the years when the Pirates were once a respectable team to root for. He sees what the team has become, and it breaks his heart. But he still watches; he still pays attention to how the team is faring. He keeps hope for one day, that they will turn it around. That describes his loyalty. A casual fan of baseball would look at it and wonder why he has that level of loyalty to this team? A casual fan of baseball may look at the Dodgers and say “That’s the team I’m gonna root for! That is a winning team! All they do is win!”

Yes, that is true. All the Dodgers do is win. But leapfrogging to a team because of the allure of their success feels hollow. If the Dodgers start to lose, that causal fan will just find another team to root for. Which in some ways, can feel joyous but that feeling is fleeting. Nothing compares to being a fan of a team that finally reaches a championship or finally has consistent years of relevance. How must it have felt for a Chicago Cubs fan to watch their team break a 108-year drought? Sitting next to another fan and watching that sorrow disappear, is unmatchable. How must it feel for the Detroit Pistons fan to see their team have the success they are having now? To watch a team with the same grit and tenacity as the Bad Boy Pistons had. How must it feel for an Indiana Hoosiers fan to watch their football team do something they had never done before by winning a national championship? That feeling for a fanbase that was often pegged as a basketball school, to be on the top of the college football world. It’s incomparable. A casual fan can’t ever have that feeling. That feeling is indescribable and it’s a pity that most people never feel it.

That is the cost of loyalty, in a shining way.

It would, of course, be misguided to say that giving a loyalty to a team does not break your heart more often than it doesn’t. It would be misguided to say that owners don’t take advantage of them sitting in the offices and making decisions for an entire fan base. Only the Green Bay Packers let their fans have a stake in the franchise and at the end of the day, a GM still makes the overall decision for where the team is headed. The cost of loyalty is double sided. A team that constantly underperforms will just rip your heart out time and time again; that is the reality.

Something about sports causes us to stay invested. Sitting at a baseball game, donning a jersey, paying for the overpriced nachos and drinks and watching your team lose has lukewarm appeal to most people. But there’s something underlying in what others would call lukewarm. Without the dedication of those fans, a team can’t survive. Even petitions and signs show how much a team needs fans. Fans are the lifeline. In a lot of cases, it is the rite of passage in a family. A baby dons a mini football jersey before he wears something gifted in a baby shower. A great grandfather keeps his first baseball card, and it is passed down generations. A mother gifts her daughter her first pair of basketball shoes. Loyalty to a team is often inherited.

In the battle between fans and organizations, it appears that the organizations are winning. Taking victory laps in one way or another. But over a lifetime ago, when Babe Ruth was traded to the Yankees, the curse of the Bambino was something the Red Sox fans never thought they could escape. And even though it took 86 years, they did overcome it. The fans held on generation after generation and never let go. Blood, sweat and tears. Year after year.

The fans still overcame. So, for the Pirates fan still holding on and still invested…don’t give up.

Curses are meant to be broken.

There is one glaring difference between owners and everyday fans, besides the astronomical financial difference.

Every day fans know the meaning of loyalty and sticking together. And an owner will spite another to get ahead. A fan doesn’t need to do that. A fan is chasing a lifetime of moments, and an owner wants one or two here and there.

One of them is lonelier than the other.