1. a person or thing that supports;
2. an adherent, follower, backer, or advocate.
There are certain mysteries in life – some big, many small – that I have resigned myself to never truly understanding. The fatalistic psyche of many New Zealand sports fans must sit remarkably high on the list. In a country where we are used to being the underdog, there is a very vocal section of league fans who are willing to give up at almost the first sign of trouble. Sweeping statements seem to follow almost every loss, even when the season is only halfway through.
“Hopeless.” “They were pathetic.” “The season is over.” “We won’t win another game.” “Sack the coach.”
All aboard the fatalistic locomotion! Next stop: Capitulation Station!
Admittedly, many of these generalised displays of verbal defeat are merely the words of extremely passionate fans who are sorely disappointed by the performance of their team. As supporters, we place high expectations – sometimes unreasonably so – on the players and feel short changed when they don’t deliver.
I get knocked down
Warriors fans also make their opinions heard loud and clear by using their feet on a hauntingly regular basis, either by simply not going to home matches, or by leaving several minutes early. The home ground may have changed its name back to Mt Smart Stadium, but the “Ericsson Shuffle” is still alive and well. I have, on more than one occasion, witnessed fans leave early with a Warriors loss looking lightly, only for the home side to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat in the dying moments.
Is it really worth sacrificing the mass jubilation of a last minute victory in order to beat the traffic?
Or is it more a reflection of the general apathy that surrounds the Warriors in particular, especially among Aucklanders? In a city of more than one million people, the Penrose based club has one of the lowest crowd averages in the entire National Rugby League, despite a promising on field resurgence in recent weeks. It’s not that there aren’t many fans, but that the majority prefer to stay home in the warmth and comfort of their living rooms, supporting from afar. The general perception seems to be that it is cheaper, and it avoids the embarrassment of witnessing another ignominious defeat firsthand – a sorry mixture of convenience and apathy. There is also much less traffic.
But not all fans take this approach. A hardcore minority come each and every week, and not all of them are locals. Many fans come from out of town, regularly making long road trips to home matches, travelling hundreds of kilometres in order to get to Mt Smart Stadium. The return journey must seem twice as long after a loss.
I get knocked down
It is these fans – the ones who bear the scars of a weary and sometimes painful thirteen season campaign since the 1995 inception of the Warriors – who are the flesh and blood of the club. They have experienced firsthand both the depressing lows and the dizzying heights of a rollercoaster ride supporting their team, often all within an eighty minute period.
These fans do not view themselves as mere spectators at these matches, but as participants. They go, not to simply watch the players, but to help them along, too. This is also evident in Australia, with the Warriors chant regularly being heard on the television broadcast of away games.
But even if some Warriors fans appear to give up on the team before full time, the club has no intentions of giving up on their supporters. With the standoffish era of past management well and truly gone, the club is rewarding fans with away match functions as the team continues to entertain on the field.
I get knocked down
Perhaps it would be worth some fans staying around for a full match in future. Their added support could make the difference between a match deciding play being an inspirational success or an embarrassing failure. After all, as the Warriors’ advertising campaign used to say, it’s just a matter of faith.
Source:
Song lyrics from ‘Tubthumping’ by Chumbawamba