Google defines a bandwagon fan as “[someone who] only show[s] interest and support … based on recent successes or popularity.” Personally, I don’t think there is a better way to describe this group. So, it pisses me off to encounter a bandwagon fan. But, not as much as it bothers me to be called one myself.
I have loved the Golden State Warriors since before the dynasty emerged in the late 2010s. And yes, I was born in 2004 — my diapers were blue and gold. When people see my Warrior’s themed sweatshirts, hats, phone case, pop socket, posters, beanies, and obviously shirts — wait let me think…yes, that’s all I have — they automatically assume that I am a bandwagoner and continue to throw the term in my face with no understanding of my deep love and respect for the players. I want to yell, “I didn’t get to the party late, Bob! I AM the party!” Because they don’t know the countless games I’ve watched on my TV, wishing I could go myself. But my annoyance doesn’t end there.
Similar to most middle-aged American men, one of my favorite hobbies is watching American football and, for many months, I anticipated the 2021 Super Bowl: “the greatest matchup of all time.” As a zealous fan, I was irritated with the random flags that indicated pass interference for a pass that couldn’t be caught in any universe. But a friend, who only watches the Super Bowl once a year to support Tom Brady, without even knowing who Tom Brady is, decided to invalidate my feelings saying “he played the game fairly now and every time.” To give some perspective, she didn’t know a touchdown is seven points and Tom Brady is number 12 and there is something called biased refs in the world of the NFL. Now you may ask, what does she like about Tom Brady? Why does she really support Tom Brady when she doesn’t know what position he plays? Well, those are all genuine questions I have, but fortunately, we’ll never have the answer, because as of February 7th 2021, I have never spoken to my “friend” again.
As someone who’s been with Marvel “till the end of the line,” I’ve watched each movie on opening weekend with an Icee in my hand and my mom telling me I’m going to get diabetes from the sugar. And after Infinity War released and mobs of clueless people rushed to watch a movie they wouldn’t completely understand, my male classmates claimed that I only wanted to see “the attractive Marvel men that every girl fangirls over.” I want to tell them: “I’m not here to drool over Tom Holland, Dylan!” And although they had only seen one movie, ironically Infinity War, the group proceeded to call themselves “fans” for the next 45 minutes. Thor’s lightning and thunder coursed through my veins, especially as they proceeded to talk about the muscles and body shapes of every single Marvel man in the movie.
My point is — I can’t stand bandwagon fans. They have no clue what they’re talking about and make assumptions about something I’ve loved my whole life.