Most American cities can be successfully stereotyped by their sports fans. LA fans show up to be seen rather than to actually watch the game. New Yorkers support their evil empire in a filthy blend of excess and typical NYC up-yours class. Clevelanders evoke images of a once adorable pet-store puppy who was horribly disfigured in a freak window washing accident. Everyone in New Jersey smells like sewage. Bostonians are quite possibly the most obnoxious fans on the face of the earth (you haven't won a championship in nearly a year- are you ready to start whining yet?), surpassed in absurdity only by Philadelphia fans, who find solace in cheering as athletes writhe and wriggle on their home turf (and when you boo Santa Claus, you don't deserve winning seasons). The list goes on. But what is a Phoenix Fan? Does it exist?
It's only recently that people are starting to consider themselves "from" Phoenix. Most citizens in the past 15 years have been transplants from the East Coast or Midwest, hoping to escape the turgid 9 months of winter in post-industrial wastelands like Detroit and Buffalo. And with them they bring their team loyalties. Now, as possibly the first full generation of Phoenicians experience life in the Valley, the sports landscape is changing. It's probably best to break down the country's 5th largest city's sporting future team by team.
1. The Suns. Of any team in the Valley, the Suns have built the most consistent and loyal following. In part, this is due to the lengthy stay that the Suns have had in Phoenix, and the generally classy moves of the Colangelo family have also assisted Phoenicians develop strong ties to this team. It also helps that they've at least flirted with championships. The city's love affair (or mild amusement, really) with the Sun's only grew stronger in the D'Antoni era, where 2-time MVP Steve Nash and his crew showed complete and total disdain for defense and focused on scoring 120 points a game. This worked well, mostly, with the exception of nearly any game where they shot less than 40% from the floor. Or generally in the playoffs. After Robert Horry
performed a colonoscopy on Steve Nash, nothing has been the same. The trading of Sean Marion (still, one of the league's most under appreciated) and acquisition of Shaq (I have to give props on his
frequent Twats- well done) effectively ended the chances of Phoenix competing anytime soon. Now there's a burdensome contract in Stoudemire, an aging all-star point guard with a bad back, Grant Hill's sarcophagus, and
ShaKubrick all in limbo. It doesn't help that the Sarvers are alienating their fan base with a series of horrendous trades that make you wonder if they even enjoy the sport of basketball. The Suns need to make one of two decisions in the next several years. They could hemorrhage Nash and Shaq while they still can and free cap so they can rebuild, or they could cling to the style of basketball they've been playing and pray for 10 more wins- or for David Stern to do something about playoff seeding so that embarrassment of the Piston's playing the Cav's while apparently snorting Ambien between quarters won't be repeated.
2. The Cardinals. If you attended a Cardinal's home playoff game against the Cowboy's in the 90's or even earlier this decade, you'd only know you were in Phoenix because of the giant Cardinal's logo plastered on the field. With the large number of Dallas transplants living in Phoenix and the general ambivalence toward the home team, the Cardinals players enjoyed no advantage in playing at home. It would be nearly impossible for me to spend less than 5,000 words detailing the woes of the Cardinals since their move to Phoenix since 1988. Let me put it another way:
Rod Tidwell was our only hope. Then came Whisenhunt. We all know where this goes from here, but suffice it to say that there were at least 8 Cards fans who had waited their whole lives to see them take the field against
Eric Foreman and crew. What the Cardinals had last season was something you wouldn't find in other perennial losing cities. A lack of fear. Look at Buffalo, stricken by four straight failures and plagued by a
kick-heard-round-the-world. And then there's Cleveland, ridden with the ghosts of The Drive, The Shot, and of course The Lake Catching on Fire. (Quick aside: Will everyone leave
Craig Ehlo alone? He defended the shot to the best of his ability. It was, at least mechanically, good defense. What must he be thinking as he watches Turkoglu get immortalized in the same vein? Does he call Turkoglu and offer him advice on how to handle the next 25 years of taunting and derisive commentary? Is Ehlo sitting in a film room wearing his Jersey from that game and playing the tape over and over again? It's even on his
Wikipedia page! Please, a moratorium on Craig Ehlo bashing. Let's do something more constructive, like talk about how Sasha Vujicic is the most universally hated creature on the planet). Anyway, the Cardinals had no fear as they approached the Super Bowl. Remember their game winning drive against the Eagles? It was a solid, well-orchestrated drive down the field late in the 4th quarter after giving up what could have been the season-ending touchdown. Arizona fans weren't thinking about the failed possibilities- they had never even imagined a winning season, let alone being near the Super Bowl. The collective psyche of Arizona wasn't heavy and soiled with heartbreak and destruction. That's why the Cardinals have a future. Well, that and Larry Fitzgerald.
On to the Diamondbacks and Coyotes in Part II.
