It’s no secret that being a New York sports fan comes with many disappointments. Most of the teams I root for have gone over 35 years without a championship, so it can be hard to keep my hopes up. But, throughout my lifelong emotional rollercoaster, I’ve always had someone sitting beside me: my father.
I was never athletic growing up, and not enjoying sports in the same way as my classmates made me feel like an outsider. As I got older, the more I realized that I didn’t have to play sports to love them. I could still appreciate them by watching athletes compete and learning about the art of the game — a hobby I owe all to my father. Whether it’s excitedly watching Michigan win the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, Ca. or nervously watching the Knicks lose in game seven against the Pacers after weeks of false hope, I can count on my dad to get me through any game in times of both happiness and defeat.
The first team my dad introduced me to was the New York Mets when he took me to my first game at Shea Stadium in 2007. Although I don’t remember anything because I was only two years old, I have been a passionate Mets fan ever since. “Let’s Go Mets” was one of my first sentences and “Meet the Mets” was one of the first songs my dad ever taught me.
Although the Mets may not have the best record nowadays, my love for the team will never fade because of its dedicated fanbase and my countless positive memories of watching their games with my dad. Even though the team doesn’t always have the best of luck, when the Mets win, the whole city wins.
When I was in fifth grade, my dad decided to get New York Islanders season tickets, which is the reason I’m an avid hockey fan today. Fascinated by the action-packed aspects of the sport along with the enthusiasm and passion of the fans, I realized that sports games were more than just fun events: They were symbols of a shared love and excitement from people of many different backgrounds. Not only were these games a fun way to watch my favorite hockey team, but they bridged the gap between my and my father’s upbringings — watching these games together connected my present to his past.
My love for the Islanders has only grown stronger despite the team’s ups and downs. In 2021, when the Islanders faced defeat in game seven of the Eastern Conference Finals against the Tampa Bay Lightning, I felt an immense sadness that ran deeper than my team losing. In an attempt to cheer me up, my dad told me that my anger meant I was a real sports fan. My dad’s words opened my eyes and made me see the importance of my emotions and how much passion I had for the teams we both loved.
In 2020, during the first round of the NHL Playoffs when the Islanders defeated the Washington Capitals, my dad decided to make light of the rivalry by naming the two lobsters he was cooking “Ovechkin” and “Oshie” after Capitals players Alexander Ovechkin and T.J. Oshie. Needless to say, he demolished those lobsters like the Islanders crushed the Capitals in a 4-1 series. The way he went about the rivalry between the two teams represents both his classic New Yorker attitude and his love for his teams.
Until this year, I wasn’t super interested in the NBA — mainly because of the Knicks’ infrequent success — but I always rooted for them. However, when they made the playoffs this season, I started to focus on the team in a way I never had before. The Knicks’ final game against the Philadelphia 76ers fell two days after I got home from college, so I sat and watched the Knicks clinch the second round of playoffs with my dad. The energy in our apartment was felt by the entire city that night; I truly understood what it meant to be a Knicks fan after so many years of shortcomings. Throughout the following few weeks, my dad and I watched every playoff game together, and I got a hefty education on the 1994 Knicks and why the Pacers are their “sworn enemies.” While the Knicks’ playoff run came to a sooner ending than I would’ve liked, there’s nobody I would rather have watched the games with than my dad. Screaming “Go New York, go New York, go” at the top of my lungs was the best start to the summer imaginable.
Most New Yorkers who root for the Mets, Islanders and Knicks also root for the Jets, but that’s where my dad and I differ from the rest — we’re New York Giants fans. While the Giants uniforms deviate from the orange and blue colors of our other teams, their fans have New York charm and charisma, which is more emblematic of the city than any color combination could ever be. By watching Giants games every Sunday, my dad taught me how to follow football; a skill that came in handy when I got to the University of Michigan. When flying from Newark to Detroit for college move-in, my dad and I passed an airport shop selling Giants merchandise. While I usually don’t think much of those stores, I decided to look inside, and my dad and I agreed that I should get a Giants shirt to remind myself of home while away at school. Throughout the Giants’ less-than-ideal season, I proudly wore my Giants shirt and remembered all the times I watched the games with my dad, knowing that those memories would get me through upsetting loss after upsetting loss.
When I got to the University — my dad’s alma mater — I knew I wanted to write for The Michigan Daily. Yet, I wasn’t entirely sure which section I’d want to write for. The moment I met the people on The Daily’s Sports section, I knew I had found where I wanted to be — they shared my love for sports and offered a community similar to the one my dad had introduced me to all those years ago. Throughout all my writing this past year, my biggest supporter has been my dad from over 600 miles away. He has shared every article I’ve written with friends and family to express his pride no matter how much or how little he followed the sport I covered.
My dad has taught me how to root for and appreciate sports with class, while still being able to make fun of unfortunate situations and rivalries. His passion for his sports teams, which he has successfully passed down to me, represents what loyalty means to me: No matter how bad the records may be or how few championships a team has, we will always root for the teams we love. Whether I am in New York, Michigan or anywhere else, I will stand by my teams with my dad because our sports teams go beyond the cities they represent — they’re an integral link in our familial bond.
Dad, thank you for making me a sports fan and for all your faith in me, I’m the luckiest daughter in the world. Happy Father’s Day!
Statement Contributor Ella Gurfein can be reached at egurfein@umich.edu.
The post Thanks for making me a sports fan appeared first on The Michigan Daily.
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