Comrades:

A new year has begun! We should be rejoicing at the opportunity for new beginnings.

Yet the winter and shortened days are still upon us. We are weary, our hearts are heavy and our fandom for our favorite teams is…well…kind of hard to take at times.

But still, we love our teams. We wear the jerseys of our favorite players, we carve out time to watch them play and yell maniacally at the television during games. It’s supposed to be fun to watch them play a game and exercise athletic feats that we can only dream of, right?

Well, yeah. To a point. We also like to see them win. Winning is fun. There’s no denying that. And when wins don’t happen for a while, minds start wandering. And when minds start wandering, they wander in different directions, and eventually those diverging directions come together again as bitter exchanges on the intrawebz. Then it strikes us that the source of all our fanatical woes lies not with our fellow fans, but with the players, the coaches, the managers, the athletic directors, the ex-players, the ex-coaches, the ex-…whatever. You get the idea. Our attention turns back to them once again, but this time with the stink eye.

So we watch and listen. We look at the apparel they wear (was that a Penn State shirt!?) and parse their words (did he say Lloyd Carr’s University of Michigan?!) looking for any clue that will expose the Great Divide – the smoking gun that will blow this whole thing wide fucking open so that we can cry out “YOU! YOU WERE THE ONE THAT CAUSED THIS TO HAPPEN TO MEEEEE!.”

Unfortunately, we’re not really smart enough to do that on our own. Luckily, in times like these heroes emerge that unmask the true culprits of our discontent, be it the Green Menace, the Ypsilanti Illuminati, the South Bend Opus Dei or the Maize and Blue Stonecutters lurking among us. It is then that our anger can be focused and appeased.

It’s sort of a natural progression, and it happens with most every fanbase. Winning keeps people happy, content and docile. Losing sets loose the angry tin-foil hat mob. And frankly, there’s been a lot of losing, along with some dandy tin-foil hats.

Let’s recap:

Mich? Let’s see. No bowling for a second straight year. A basketball team that needs to take on a strong Big Ten in order to even be considered for the Big Dance. A hockey team that will also be very lucky to make the tournament.

Enough of that. Good thing there’s pro sports. The LOLions? There’s a “LOL” in there for a reason, folks. Tigers? Not nearly as bad, but it’s also the off-season. Pistons? I don’t know much about basketball, but something tells me that 11-22 isn’t goodt. At least there’s the good ol’ dependable Wings that are once again taking their division by stor…oh. Nevermind.

Okay, it’s not great right now, and it would be remiss of us to believe that, as fans, it doesn’t feel like sometimes we’re the dumb schmuck that once lucked into a good thing, but is now taking it up the ass from Hunt Volk, while the popular girl from high school stands and laughs at us, only to walk off with the douche, leaving us doubled over after a public, embarrassing display. Well, fuck you, Hunt Volk.

That’s no reason for us to give up. Far from it. Hold your head high. It’s times like these that test our mettle as sports fans. The only advice we can offer you, our loyal reader, is this: Don’t panic. Remember some inspiring things that someone else may have told you over the course of your lives and go out as a winner!

If that doesn’t work, here’s a directional video that will guide you. Simply click the red button below any time you feel panicked as a fan. Note, this video may not be safe for work. It’s also probably not safe to view around children, the elderly, anyone that happens to hold you in high esteem, or toothless hillbillies. We warned you.

And once again – fuck you, Hunt Volk.