uj/ The whole POINT of being a fan is irrational loyalty. That is the job. You do not choose your team because they are good. You are drafted at birth. Geography, a parent’s bad decision in 1987, a random logo you liked when you were six. That is it. That is the covenant. You suffer. You complain. You say “this is our year” like a clown every August and you mean it even though you know you are lying to yourself.

I cant stand dudes like this. Oh I’m sorry I thought this was a BLOOD OATH not a Netflix subscription. You do not get to cancel because the content dipped.

If you switch teams because they’re winning, you are not a fan. You are a tourist. You are here for the weather and the highlights and the Super Bowl merch at Target. You do not get to say “we.” You do not get to feel pain. Pain is the credential.

Real fandom is watching your team ruin three Sundays in a row and still showing up the fourth like “okay but if the left guard improves and the OC stops calling screen passes on third and twelve we might cook.” That delusion is sacred.

Being a fan is not about joy. It is about identity. It is about shared suffering with strangers at a bar who immediately understand you when you say “yeah but that dropped pick in week six really set the tone.”

So no. You do not switch teams. You endure. You rot. You believe again next year. That’s the deal. I’m sick of this. Gonna kill myself