Yesterday's edition of the Michigan Daily - the University of Michigan's excuse for a daily rag - contained what I can only guess was supposed to be the heartwarming story of a life-long, San Fancisco-based, Tigers fan who was joyous to find his favorite team in the World Series during his tenure as a Michigan undergrad. I can understand his emotions. It's been 22 years and a new stadium since we've seen our boys of summer in the fall classic. Detroit has fallen on economic woes that we thought were only characteristic of our extended relatives up in Flint and it's good to have at least one community-binding positive to cheer for. The Steelers arguably achieved their cult-like status in Pittsburgh under similar circumstances.
But what bothered me about this article was the perspective from which it was written. A fan from San Francisco? I mean, I'm sure they exist, but the Tigers aren't exactly the Yankees. Or the Cowboys. Or the Lakers. Or Notre Dame. Or any other team that has made a profession out of marketing themselves as "America's Team." And Detroiters like it that way. The infotainment, entertainment and pseudo-legitimate news sources of our nation have used Detroit as the easy joke for years now and, under such a barrage, Detroiters have stopped hating each other long enough to circle the wagons. We hate bandwagon fans. We love that you dismiss our city's gems when casually disparaging it as a dump. And we want you to root for the other team, no matter who they are, so we can stand even more defiantly proud when the Tigers take it all.
Oh, and to my non-existant readers, sorry for the disappearance. I'm back, with a whole new bag of rants.
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