ah, kids are so cute

Over at the well-respected Dodger blog, MSTI, one of his recent posts caught my eye due to the link to the story of how he became a Dodger fan. I love reading stories like that, probably cause it reflects how kids can be swayed by the smallest thing. And probably cause it reflects just how easily I became an Angels fan.

I can't even recall when exactly I chose the Angels. But I can tell you it was partially because I wanted to be different, partially because the Dodgers were too good to be my favorite team. (Ironically, this criteria didn't apply when chosing between the Lakers-Clippers, but then the Lakers were bad enough for me to root for them) It's interesting for me to try to decipher why I chose the Angels - I had no role model in my fandom, no one that influenced my decision. Heck, I didn't even have a real reason why the Angels appealed to me. But like MSTI, just the thought that chance may have directed my fandom in a different direction is something unfathomable, something horrific.

Imagine if I was worldly/smart enough to know that the California Angels played in Orange County, not Los Angeles County, and despite their name, didn't really represent the whole state (how could it, when there were four other teams?). There would be no wide-eyed watching of Chuck Finley and Mark Langston. No wondering how Jim Abbott could switch his glove so fast, no bewilderment about what was so exciting about signing Mo Vaughn. I wouldn't have learned to love saying DiSarcina and Fabregas. I wouldn't have had a running joke with my dad about the flatness of Eckstein's cap bill (that always annoyed me to no end), nor would I have experienced the exasperation with Hud always making some bad Kingfish joke or line.

There were many years I was just a casual fan. Then there were years I was practically not a fan, while I was preoccupied with sports and school. But interestingly enough, my life would've been decidedly different if I had been just a little bit better at geography (or the Angels happen to be better than the Dodgers). I'd like to think I would've still had those afternoons watching the game on TV with my parents, where my mom would pronounce a runner "dead" whenever an out occurred. But there would have been no elation and glory of 2002, no feeling of David vs. Goliath when they beat the Yankees, no disappointment of 1995 (the lasting memory of GA waving at a pitch from Randy Johnson), no inspiration from a little team that was once an underdog that become an AL West powerhouse (yet is seemingly the perpetual underdog).

Heck, I could be a Dodger fan now, lamenting the ineptitude of Frank and Jamie.

:::shudders::

Thank God I was stupid.