A PIG’S head was delivered to the offices of Italian Serie A club Sampdoria this past Saturday with a note that the next head to be delivered will be the club’s current officers. About a month ago, a bullet was sent with a similar warning.
Other Italian clubs that were also sent similar warnings include Reggina in 1999 and Palermo in 2006.
I can understand being upset over a team’s fortunes especially with Sampdoria facing relegation, but going as far as threatening the lives of people is beyond me.
This fanaticism is dangerous. And we’ve seen lots of this through the years—Monica Seles being stabbed by a Steffi Graf fan, Joe DiMaggio being warned against marrying again by a suspected Marilyn Monroe fan, Hank Aaron being threatened with murder if he gets close to breaking Babe Ruth’s record….sports history has seen so much.
Yes, the clubs are woven into the very fabric of their communities and I get that. I really do.
One can argue that the teams I root for aren’t community based; hence, I feel differently.
Excuse me. I did live in New York City where I saw the New York Yankees—a team I have rooting for since 1976—lose in the World Series and later saw the Boston Red Sox “reverse the curse.” I joined the crowd gathered outside East 49th and 5th Avenue cheering and chanting for Alex Rodriguez to join the club—while engaging Bosox fans in a jeering competition at the same time.
I know what it is like to walk from the Stadium back to Manhattan (well, we only got halfway before we decided to take the subway because it was simply too far). I know what it is like to pick fights with fans from Seattle after losing in a series. During my school days at the Ateneo, I got into a few arguments and fights with supporters from other schools after wins and losses.
When I think about that today, I shake my head in regret and dismay. Maybe because I am older now and am more even keeled. But also it is because of my being cognizant of what I say and do.
One time, after watching an Ateneo game that was so frustrating (that ended in a loss), I remember cussing one of the opposing team’s players.
That evening, a friend of mine who was with me at that game was having dinner with his family when his young son blurted out the same profanity I said hours earlier. The boy’s mom asked where he picked it up and he said it was “Tito Rick.” I was so embarrassed. I apologized profusely and since then have not uttered profane language during any game. And I have held firm in the last 17 years.
So I know what it is like to go overboard with emotion. But to threaten lives is taking it to a whole new level.
This current season, the other team that I have rooted for—Liverpool Football Club (LFC) which I have followed since 1979—is mired in mediocrity. After seven years of great football and silverware, the club is down in the Top 10 on the Premier League table. They have been terrible to watch.
How does one go from nearly winning four trophies the previous year to sucking so bad? Granted they have injuries and dealt Sadio Mane away, but the core remains. And they still have a terrific squad.
I have shied away from watching not only because of my dismay, but also because I refuse to look at the comments of the fans. While I am upset about LFC’s showing, I remain a fan.
I also cannot say, “it’s just a game” because these games can be more than that. If it isn’t “a way of life” or a “religion” towns and cities live, breathe, and die with their sports teams.
All I can do is try to be more objective, chaste, and sober in my thoughts and opinions. I know what it is like to be in that dark side of being a fan. But I am certainly relieved that I have kept it within the grounds of being stupid as opposed to being criminal.
Hopefully, others too can learn.