WHAT FOOS WE SPORTS FANS BE

I’ve said it all before and I am not taking any of it back. I am, shamefully, a rootin' tootin' fan of the great mercenary lottery called professional sports. I cheer when “our” team wins. I mope when the bull pen throws it away, or when Vernon pops up with the bases loaded. But how can I, or the rest of us, possibly cope with our unlimited gullibility in Toronto’s latest paean to profits.

More than thirty three thousand of us showed up at the Rogers Centre to bid a fond farewell to Cito Gaston. He obliged us with the inevitable tear coursing down his cheek. He bestowed on all of us the laurel wreath of being “the greatest fans.” He praised the city where he no longer lives. He said all the right things. I am not faulting Cito for his sentimentality, or even for his questionable success as a manager. So many of the players praise his stoic mien in the dugout, appearing to say little and to express no great emotional displays. Some say “He lets us be ourselves.” While others, quietly ask for a more loquacious, heart-on-the-sleeve manager. Cito responds by asking how many World Series Tony LaRussa has won. It’s all very passionate,

(A sidebar: the late Tom Cheek is being boosted for some kind of big award for his career. Cheek was the Blue Jays play-by-play guy since the Jays began. He owes his career to Toronto. He died too young so he is revered. But Cheek remained an American citizen and he never did move to Toronto, but maintained his home in Florida. Cito at least did make his home here for many years.)

But what is the passion all about? The fact is that the Blue Jays management saw an opportunity to sell tickets, in fact to brazenly market Cito’s departure. The fans lined up for it. I’m no different. When I see those promotional commercials advertising “Hustle and Heart” with the close-ups of sometimes unshaven but ready to fight-to-win players, I am swept along.

Yet I hear the likes of departed fallen heroes like Alex Rios dissing Toronto – complaining that the fans don’t really care; that we are a bad baseball city. Rios is glad to be gone. But he’s just another body-for-hire. Pro sports is full of this stuff. Lebron James was not just a great basketball player, but whose heart and soul and devotion belonged to Cleveland, picked up and went to Miami along with another of Toronto’s “heroes” Chris Bosh.

I don’t blame the athletes. They play for money and the more they can get the happier they are. We kid ourselves about “home town loyalty.” There are players who spout their devotion to the team that hired them to throw strikes or hit homers.

And we buy it all.

But again, nothing so reminded me of my own gullibility as when the Jays, now led by a South Asian (no racism implied) whose cultural background simply does not include baseball. He owes the Rogers shareholders the best. Not the best team – just the biggest bottom line. If coincidentally, having a better team improves profits, so be it.

Look at all of our devoted citizens of Maple Leaf country. Most of the fans were not born the last time the team with Lord Stanley’s trophy. But we cheer. Kids who manage to get on camera throw up the “we’re number one” fingers and twitch at their Maple Leaf jerseys to express their undying loyalty.

What fools we .. or are we?