Fakers

Ain't nobody should get to all of a sudden call themselves a Lions fan now.

Not when the team is basking in the glow of a long-awaited playoff win, earned with such grit and toughness on Sunday night. Nobody oughta be able to jump on that bandwagon when everything is bright and rosy and hopeful . . . not when real fans have stuck with their team for years, rooting them on through season after dismal season.

Real fans have been there through thick and thin. Through the curse of Bobby Layne and the departure of Barry Sanders and, Lord help us, 2008. You think you get to eat some chicken wings and whoop it up and call yourself a Lions fan without living through all that? Huh-uh. You’re nothing but a faker, and you know it.

…Which explains why, on Sunday night, I felt a little bad as I sat on the edge of my seat, hollering and whooping for the team I had adopted mere days earlier.

Yep, I’m One Of Those…a bandwagon-jumping, fair-weather fan who only declared allegiance for her state’s team when they were about to make themselves look really ding-dang good. 

I’m kinda embarrassed about that.

I can claim a shirttail Lions connection, I guess. My dad was a Lions fan. I remember him watching games from his recliner with a Manhattan and his pipe when I was a kid. I was born in Detroit, too, also when I was a kid. That doesn’t earn me fan status, though, not by a long shot.

I like football, but I’ve never latched onto a team, even though I envied other people’s sports passion and the camaraderie that came with it. It always seemed unethical, somehow, to start cheering for a team just because I wanted to have someone to cheer for. I figured people would tell me my enthusiasm was fake, and I was afraid they would be right.

But then, in the days before last Sunday’s game, I saw the warmth and the gusto with which Lions fans talked of their hopes, their trepidation, and their excitement for the game. You should be a fan of this team, they told me.

So I figured, what the heck. Maybe I can be a Lions fan.

After all, if you want to add something of value to your life, you kinda have to start out as a faker.

Fakerdom isn’t limited to sports, of course. I’m a faker as I contend, this cold week, with frozen pipes for the first time and pretend I know how to fix them. I’m a faker coffee drinker, having decided to add the beverage to my life but still unable to sip it without wincing unless it’s swimming with creamer.

I’m a faker as I tell people I’m writing a book, knowing good and well that, hard as I’ve worked to learn what it takes to get published, I still don’t actually know what I’m doing.

I recently started work as the editor of a magazine. I know I’m equipped for the job and will do good work, yet I feel like a faker wearing a hat I haven’t earned. 

The husband on Sunday gave me a hard time for my sudden Lions fandom. (Then again, he’s a Cowboys fan, so he wasn’t in the best of moods that day.)

Starting something new means running the risk someone will call you out on it. A new project, a new exercise routine, a new direction in life could earn you raised eyebrows and a voice ― maybe even the voice inside your own head ― telling you to get out, quit pretending, give it up. Fakers not wanted.

But if we don’t try ― if we don’t put down rookie fear and shove back self-accusation and just START ― we’ll never discover how those new roads could enrich our lives and make us more the people we want to be.

I want to root for the Lions. Not because they’re doing well, but because they were my dad’s team, and they’re my state’s team, and they have engendered the love of those of you who have stood by them faithfully in their darkest seasons. I know I haven’t earned a spot by your side, but I hope you’ll make a little room for me.

I don’t know how to write a book, but I’m writing a book. I’m not a home repair guru or a veteran editor, but I’m determined to perform well for my employer and take good care of my century-old house. 

I’m totally faking it, folks. But sometimes you’ve gotta just jump in, whether you feel like you belong there or not. Take the risk. Do what needs to be done. Pick someone to cheer for and whoop it up. 

Go, Lions.

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If you know someone who might appreciate this blog, I'd be honored if you would share it with them. It's so much more fun writing when you know someone might read and enjoy what you have to say.

For you Lions fans out there, thanks for sharing your team with me. Also, I kinda feel like their win on Sunday might have had something to do with me cheering them on, so, you know, you're welcome.