Green: Fair-weather fans free to be fakers

It’s Darwin’s law that if an animal wants to survive, it must adapt to its natural habitat.’ … It’s Darwin’s law that if an animal wants to survive, it must adapt to its natural habitat.’ To thrive in the Pittsburgh environment, for example, one must develop a taste for pierogies, a sizable collection of umbrellas and a distaste for Ohio ‘mdash; note: I have heard Ohioans refer to Pittsburgh as Ohio’s toilet seat. However, every few years or so, the Pittsburgh environment changes, or rather, intensifies. I am referring to, of course, the status of the city’s football team, the Pittsburgh Steelers.’ When the Steelers reach the playoffs ‘mdash; or sanity forbid, the Super Bowl ‘mdash; everything about the city changes. Half-naked-all-painted men roam the streets, absurd jingles rule the radio waves, and, perhaps most jarringly, various social taboos change. While once the norm, suddenly it is no longer socially acceptable to associate with certain cities, colors or even names (see: Mayor Luke Wouldn’t-pay-the-$108-fee-to-actually-become-Steelerstahl). Yet, as nature would have it, evolution leaves some Pittsburghers behind. For whatever reason, some poor schmucks just didn’t get the Steelers gene. Like a brown bunny tragically born to an arctic climate, these people must struggle every day to survive. Many face social banishment, family disownment or existentialist crises, asking themselves, ‘Why can’t I just be like everyone else?’ Others, desperate for the plentiful smorgasbord of food and toasty climate common at Steelers fans’ gatherings, are forced to look in from the outside, left to munch on stale, day-old pasta, cold and alone. Unable to adapt to their new black-and-gold climate, these sad souls are ultimately posed with this dilemma: become a Steelers fan some way, somehow, or face the wrath of Pittsburgh (see: Sienna Miller) and probably even death. For those with enough gall, however, there is a third option. It is risky, however. So much so, I probably shouldn’t even be talking about it. This third option involves infiltrating the Steelers fan population, donning its clothing, observing its customs and speaking its language, yet all the while, retaining one’s non-Steelers fan identity. I speak, of course, of fair-weather fans, a group that faces more discrimination and hate mongering than probably any other group in the entire world. Many ‘die-hard’ Steelers fans maliciously attack the fair-weather fans population, throwing out nasty politically incorrect slurs like ‘poserz’ and laughing at their pink secondhand Jerome Bettis jerseys (‘They don’t even know he retired,’ chide the Steelers fans). Yet if done carefully and correctly, a fair-weather fan can pull off quite the convincing subterfuge, guaranteeing himself every wish he could ever dream of. I, for example, am a master of all things clandestine, and last weekend, I was on the very top of my game. In celebration of the Steelers vs. Baltimore Ravens playoff game, my extended family arranged a little get-together, a soiree, if you will. Slowly the secretive details of this event trickled in: My sources delivered word of prospective cupcakes, daiquiris, chips, dip and finally, best of all, an entire wheel of cheese.’ Immediately I knew that I had to be there. And so my preparations began. To fool a room of Steelers fans, the fair-weather fan must look the part. This means dressing in black and gold, head to foot, including face paint ‘mdash; trust me, face paint can be one of those make-it-or-break-it kinds of things. If you have enough time, it’s recommended that the fair-weather fan go to his local grocery store and buy a Steelers T-shirt, baseball hat or other apparel, though he must be particularly careful not to be seen. I find that the trick is most successful when you send some sort of lackey, in this case my mother, in your place to obtain it. Thus, from the hidden safety of my house, I can continue to plot the details of my deception. But dressing the part is not enough ‘mdash; far from it, actually. To truly dupe a Steelers fan (they are a naturally suspicious bunch, prone to bold accusations like, ‘I bet you’re just here for the food!’), one must gather a surface-level base of knowledge about football. As depressing as this sounds, it’s almost absolutely necessary. Thus, with a quick Google search, I would accumulate the necessary details so that later, when my sister asked, ‘Who is favored to win this game?’ I could answer in a suave, confident voice, ‘Well, the Steelers have beaten the Ravens twice before. Of course, to beat a team three times in a row can be quite a challenging feat.’ Next, I would probably flip my hair, just so she was certain just how nonchalant I was about the whole thing. It’s also important to know some obscure details, as well, just in case a particularly suspicious Steelers fan is on to you. ‘Did you know that the Arizona Cardinals used to be based out of Chicago?’ I would ask casually to the black-and-gold-filled room. The Steelers fans would then murmur their approval as I smiled, cool and composed on the outside, though inside chuckling at my own genius. Of course it’s natural that every once in a while someone might ask you a question to which you just don’t know the answer. At times like this, a smart fair-weather fan will stuff his mouth with cheese, and between bites say things like, ‘Oh yeah ‘hellip; first down ‘hellip; Terry Bradshaw ‘hellip; yeah, yeah ‘hellip; I hate the Eagles.’ At this point, whether because of your impressive antics or because everyone at the party is already drunk, you should have the Steelers fans fooled. It is now appropriate to eat cheese and relish in your success. Have your own fair-weather fan tricks? Share your master plan with Molly at mog4@pitt.edu.