See? I’ve just taken out a lifetime of sexual frustration on you by belittling you for your performance. And I have to say, I do feel quite better. Thanks!
It probably won’t bother you anyway. If you played for a school like Duke or Notre Dame, you’re already well accustomed to fans hating your guts. Most pro athletes excel at blocking out distractions and focusing on the task at hand. Your job is made easier by the fact that most antagonistic fans have about as much creativity with words as Avril Lavigne. “Go fuck yourself” tends to lessen in impact the 9,000,000th time you’ve heard it.
Still, there are times when fan heckling can get to even the best of us. I’m going to play out a few hostile situations for you and show you the proper way to respond. These scenarios can happen on the road, or even at home games, where the fans can be real dicks.
SCENARIO #1: A close relative of yours, let’s say your dad, has recently died, and a nearby fan has decided to hit too close to home. He shouts, “Hey, asshole, how’s your dead father? Oh, yeah, he’s dead! How’s it feel to be fatherless, daddy’s boy? DEAD DAD!”
Your Response: Take out a pen during a stoppage in play and transcribe the taunt word for word. Then, in the postgame press conference, read it aloud to the media. Hometown columnists hate the fans and love to portray them as drunken sociopaths. Your dead father just bought you two solid weeks of sympathy coverage. Tell him when you visit his grave!
SCENARIO #2: A drunken fan throws something at you.
Your Response: Fans usually throw things because of a poor officiating call. So grab the nearest official and use him as a human shield. It’s a win-win for everyone. If you get struck by a flying object, your response can vary depending upon the object thrown. If you get mad because someone threw a marshmallow at you, you’re a pussy and deserve it. If the object in question was a battery (fans in the know use nine-volts, which are effective for breaking skin and scratching corneas), be sure to note what the fan looks like and the exact seat he’s sitting in. What’s that? You don’t have time to note all of that? Don’t worry. That fan is a season-ticket holder and the nephew of a team sponsor, so you’ll be seeing him again next week regardless of his behavior.
SCENARIO #3: Fans en masse taunt you about a lascivious Internet rumor (see chapter 8). You know, like that thing about you peeing on girls.
Your Response: Stop peeing on girls. That’s nasty.
SCENARIO #4: Fans en masse taunt you about a recent arrest or drug problem.
Your Response: Develop a strong Christ complex. Explain your actions through a wide range of subtle excuses and defensive postures. You’ll love having an excuse to become even more arrogant after you’ve made a terrible lifestyle choice.
SCENARIO #5: A fan taunts you by calling you by your ridiculous given name and not by your sporty, cool nickname. If you’re Chipper Jones, that means hearing chants of “Lar-ry! Lar-ry!” But you don’t just hear it once. No, that one fan has to shout it during the whole fucking game, every game. He chants it so incessantly, it becomes a kind of aural waterboarding. Two hours in, you find your heart beating in lockstep with the horrible chanting. Soon, you want to give up on life entirely and succumb to the traumatizing emotional numbness. You are forever changed by man’s limitless appetite for cruelty. Life will never taste as sweet as it once did.
Your Response: Find your parents and slap the shit out of them. No one deserves to be named Larry. That’s a silly name.
SCENARIO #6: A drunken fan has decided to storm the field and attack you!
Your Response: Take just a second to savor this moment, my friend. It’s such a rare occasion when you can beat the living shit out of a fan with cameras present and be completely justified in doing so. Pin that white trash down and go to town. Don’t let up until you can feel his sinuses caving in. That lets you know the damage is permanent!
Remember: you can only attack a fan if they come onto the field and attack you. If you go into the stands, you’ll be suspended and branded as an out-of-control lunatic. It’s not worth it. Unless you get in at least one solid uppercut. The high you get from destroying another man’s jaw can’t be topped. I’ve tried.
I know what you’re thinking. “What about racist fans, like all the ones in Boston?” I’m glad you asked.
Racism, hate mail, and death threats: they work for you!