Hello, my name is Kyle, and I’m a Lakers fan. Please don’t let that affect your judgment of me in a negative way. You see, I never had a choice – my Dad was a Lakers fan as a kid, and he passed that tradition on to me. Growing up outside Salt Lake city, I was the only kid on 
the block to have a Magic Johnson poster on my wall, instead of Karl Malone or John Stockton. To blend in, I accepted the Jazz and became a fan, but I always had it in me to love the purple and gold. In recent years, as I’ve spent more and more time in Los Angeles, I’ve traded in my Jazz card and have sided with the Lakers on a more permanent basis.
All of this information is just background, leading up to my point: I’m in pain. Being a fan hurts. If you’re a true fan, a real fan of a team and you’ve been one for any period of time, you certainly know how I feel. Just by pure percentage chances, the team you love and follow is NOT going to win the title. Not this year, anyway, unless you’re a Celtics fan.
And that means, clearly, that my team did not win. In fact, it’s been kind of a long time since any of my teams won, the Lakers themselves being the last. It’s been almost 15 years since the Dallas Cowboys won it all. Longer for the Baltimore Orioles (I know, it’s a strange combination of teams to follow).
But this is what it is to be a fan. To live and die by your teams is bound to give you a lot of heartache, but it makes the joy of victory, when it comes, all the sweeter.
And so, I repeat the mantra of the team that almost did it. As much is it kills me to say this:
There’s always next year.
K
Oh Ky! I’m sorry about your team!