I was once a very clumsy, athletically-averse child.
I am now a very clumsy, athletically-averse adult.
I never played organized sports outside of two deeply unenthusiastic weeks of tennis lessons (sorry mom) the summer before 7th grade. In high school gym class, I pretended that my annual 16 minute mile was because I couldn’t be bothered to run, not because I physically couldn’t.
For the first two decades of my life, I just didn’t get the obsession with team sports. I didn’t get the fun in being out of breath when I could be reading, I didn’t get that innate and overwhelming sense of needing to win, and I definitely didn’t get grown men red-faced and screaming over other grown men running around on TV. Conversations about sports made me feel clueless, so I found it easier to lean on a “sports are stupid” persona than admit that I myself was feeling kind of stupid and left out.
I’ve since realized that my lack of interest wasn’t random. The more I opened myself up to the big wide world of sports, the more I understood that my life was coincidentally devoid of the main factors that usually result in team dedication. I think most True Sports Fans can point back to some combination of:
Growing up in a city, state, or household with deep local team pride.
I moved around a lot as a kid, so I didn’t really have a sense of belonging to any particular place. I was surrounded by die-hard KU fans in Kansas and was a bystander for Jets vs Patriots rivalries in Connecticut, but none of those teams felt like mine in any way. I think I was an adult when I realized that most families watch football (??) on Thanksgiving.
Someone you love loves sports.
My grandpa was a fan of the Yankees in the sense that it was the team most likely to be on the TV when he would fall asleep in his recliner.
You’re in it for the love of the game.
Clearly, this one did not apply to me.
In my mid 20’s, I met my (now) husband. He’s been a lifelong fan of the Knicks and the Panthers, but his team is the Mets. After years of eye-rolling at any mention of “the game,” I suddenly found myself in The Makings of a Sports Fan category #2: I was in love with someone who loves sports.
Aside from an all-consuming desire to enmesh myself in this amazing new man’s life and interests, I had to admit that something about the Mets were alluring. They’re a New York team, a place I actually do feel a sense of belonging to. And not only that, but they’re an underdog New York team, more hopeful and gritty than the celebrity-endorsed, clouty winning-ness of the Yankees. Mets fans are from Queens and Brooklyn, maybe Long Island, as few transplants choose to hitch their horse to a mostly losing (sorry guys) team.
And, maybe even more importantly, I love Mets merch.
The colors are so good, and the vintage is cute and plentiful. Even the non-vintage stuff is kind of great - I mean, they have Hello Kitty games! For the past few summers, there’s one game per season where they give away bobbleheads of Hello Kitty in a Mets uniform, and you can get your crispy fountain Coke in a themed souvenir cup.
Walking around the city in a Mets hat is one of the only times where random men I don’t know shout at me in a way that feels warm and brotherly. There’s typically a brief moment of alarm and/or annoyance when I realize a strange man is trying to talk to me on the street, but wearing the Mets logo offers me rare moments that I find a huge smile and realize I’m being acknowledged with genuine, kind enthusiasm. Lets go Mets!
It turns out, being a sports fan is one of the biggest communal activities you can participate in. You’re instantly connected to a dozen people on the street, 200 in a bar, 30,000 in a stadium, millions online. The invisible string is always there - sports merch just makes it glow.
My slow transformation into a sports liker over the past decade was officially solidified this year, during the sportiest summer NYC has had in recent memory. The NBA Finals were fucking exhilarating, the streets awash in basketball euphoria. It’s been two months since the frenetic celebration of winning night, and people are still proudly rocking Knicks merch everywhere I go.
Shortly after, the World Cup temporarily transformed the fashion landscape of the city. Every game meant hordes of fans in their respective jerseys, national pride worn eagerly by everyone from tourists to cab drivers to finance bros. I was out to dinner during the Mexico vs Ecuador game at the end of June and almost the entire (Italian) restaurant staff wore bright green Mexico jerseys for service. The instant connection between strangers was palpable in sidewalk high-fives and random cheering, a special kind of camaraderie that few other types of clothing really manage to produce.
Consider me sport-ified!
Earlier this summer, I asked my subscriber’s chat what teams you root for! I rounded up your answers and scoured the internet for the coolest vintage sports merch, from defunct Canadian basketball teams to midwestern favorites.
