What does a fan truly look like?

Jose Enciso - Biggest Angels fan I know

What does a baseball fan truly look like?  What does someone look like who spends their time following a team, cheering them on, devoting their valuable time to share their thoughts with others, spending money to watch their team, or buy merchandise?  Do they look like the person in the image above?  Does that face fit what our baseball world views as a true fan?  Maybe the biggest fan of all for his team?

A fan is not something that a team can cookie-cut to create.  We are all unique, diverse, and each sharing our own reasons for what teams we follow.  For a sport that once did not allow certain people to even play based upon skin color, opting to create a Negro League for talented men to play in, our fields are now scattered with men from all different walks of life, all different locations from around the world.  On any given team you will find someone who is more than likely not American by birth, and may not even be an American now, but still enjoying America's favorite pastime.  In today's baseball world, fans come in many different shapes, sizes, colors, nationalities, ethnicity, are both male and female. 

I am a baseball fan.  Anyone who knows me is very aware of this.  I have not always been a fan of this sport.  Truthfully, I am a newer fan, and my reasons for loving the sport started when I learned I was going to have a son.  I wanted a sport we could share together.  After relinquishing my fan-dom to anything NBA-related for the most part, never having the desire to actually watch a full Football game, and due to where I live, Hockey is not a primary sport.  So, baseball it was.

I wait all year long for Spring Training, planning my life around 30 days of games hosted in Phoenix, Arizona and surrounding suburbs.  Since my teams are not local, it is my only chance to see one of my teams live, with the Angels playing at Tempe Diablo Stadium.  While some games are mostly minor league players hoping for a spot on the 40 man roster, it is still nice to see them out and about.  Spring Training for me is what baseball is all about - young men on the field, hoping for a chance to play professionally for a sport they love. While I am not the best at remembering stats, I can tell you most my summer nights are in front of a television watching the games, or having ESPN on my cell phone to check scores.  I have missed church during play-offs to make sure my support is somehow felt on the field, even though I was sitting in the comfort of my home.  I have scared my neighbors, I am sure, with my yelling at the television.  While at both Spring Training and regular season games I have had people make funny faces at me for my loud cheering.

My teams I watch, love, and follow are the Angels and the Red Sox.  While some friends do not appreciate my dual citizenship to their fan base, I cannot hide who I love to watch.  I am not the typical fan, probably, knowing at the end of any given season I could potentially watch both teams play against each other in the playoffs. But as long as it is not the Yankees making it to the Series, I feel blessed!

My love for the Angels is a family-based decision, being married into a family that has a long tradition of halos.  My ex-husband's grandmother, Grandma Dandie, had satellite television in the late 1980's and 1990's strictly to watch her boys out on the field. She attended church where the team's chaplain was pastor.  She would call to let me know what players she saw at church, knew everything about the players down to their favorite flavor of chewing gum.  She passed away one year before the Angels won the World Series in 2002.  My father-in-law was in the minor leagues for the team, cousins have worked for the organization during the Disney years, and even took it one step further to become husband and wife on the field at Angels Stadium.  While it is true, I am not from California, I fell in love with this team because of how much my family loves the team.  Besides, who made up the stupid rule that you must be from where your favorite team is located?

My love for the Red Sox actually happened by accident. I started following the team simply because of Curt Schilling.  I had always enjoyed watching him play, seeing him pitch, and after the 2001 World Series where he helped secure a title with the Diamondbacks against the Yankees, I was mesmerized.  When he went to the Sox, I followed his career.  And then, I fell in love with the tradition, with the history, with the team, the town, and the fans.  I fell in love with Fenway, the Green Monster, and the wicked ways this team plays. You have to admire those fans who are so die-hard they simply prayed to be alive to see the team win another World Series...If you play for the Red Sox, you are family to everyone within the Nation.  There is a high respect for those who are on the team.  And in return, the players (with some exceptions) regard the Nation as family, too.

This year, for the first time I was able to watch both my teams play against each other in a regular season game, live, at Angels Stadium on Easter Sunday...I have watched regular season games with both teams separately during interleague games against the Diamondbacks, but it is always different when you see the teams you love, playing against each other.  I always feel like such a mom, yelling for both teams, cheering when they both score a run, yelling at Francona and Scioscia if they decide to keep a guy on the mound longer than I feel appropriate, and confusing everyone around me.  I could care less how others may look at me...this is who I am, and I will not apologize for it.

My friends are cut into 3 categories - Angels friends, Red Sox friends, and everyone else.  From my Red Sox friends, I have learned much about dedication, believing in spite of all odds being against you, and the love of something that you share with so many others within the Nation.  From my Angels friends, I have learned about desire, faith, comradery in something we all love.  You could not ask for a better lineup of friends.

I am not the typical fan.  I do not look like the girl who would cherish a reply tweet from Torii Hunter.  I don't look like a girl who would go see Adrian Gonzalez speak at a church about his faith, his family, and his career.  I probably don't look like the girl who's closet primarily contains baseball shirts for both teams.  Looking at me, you would probably never guess I have cherished baseball items like signed hats I refuse to wear again, newspaper clippings from terrific wins, or a shelf of empty Budweiser and Bud Light beer bottles that contain the image of a giant "Å".  I may not fit in with what anyone would consider the face of baseball...but who does? 

The image above at the beginning of this blog post is of an Angels fan/friend of mine, Jose. Jose is by far the biggest Angels fan, next to Grandma Dandie, that I know of.  He not only services his team well by continuing a tradition of history with and for the team, he also is welcoming of others into his inner-circle for how he chooses to be a fan.  He is loyal to one team, the Angels.  While he has other obligations in his life, he chooses to spend his valuable time supporting the players, past and present.  To me, he is what a fan is all about.  He is the face of a fan...someone loyal to the sport, loyal to the team, loyal to other fans who share his love.  He is not a cookie cutter image of apple pie, yet he is a man who does not apologize for his baseball affections.

Like those playing on the fields of our baseball stadiums, he is diverse in thought, in feelings, in appearance.  Any team would be lucky to have him as their fan...and the Angels are the lucky team he has chosen to give his fan-dom to.  He IS the image of Angels baseball to me.