I was barely a baseball fan and one that could have cared less about the Mets when I was invited to the 6th game of the 1986 World Series. By the seventh inning I remember clasping my hands and praying that the Mets would win (I don't pray), and when Bill Buckner let an easy out roll through his legs, letting the Mets take the lead in the final innings I - along with 50,000 other possessed fans in Shea Stadium - responded as if Christ had descended onto right field (I don't believe in Christ either). I believe I haven't watched a Mets game since.
What happened in Queens that night, of course, happens in college basketball games and professional football games (of the US and World varieties) every day. Our ability to turn into writhing and screaming fanatics no doubt has much to do with the chemistry of the crowd. But at possibly a deeper level - and what the crowd taps into - is our remarkable urge to be on a team.
Any team will do. We're not limited to sports; political parties, schools, musical preferences, hair styles - and of course nations and religions - all give us plenty of opportunity to identify with a group and, because every game needs an opponent, take down the other guys.
Yesterday a thin, somewhat amusing New York Post article about New Yorkers turning their kitchens into closets turned into a battle ground for suburbanites and urbanistas to go to war against each other.
A suburban fired the first shot: "I feel sorry for these people, they're living like animals in a cage."
It was early in the game, so only a half-hearted volley came in response: "People living NYC are barely home. These apartments are just like hotel rooms where you hold your stuff and sleep every now and then."
But things were just heating up: "My bathroom is bigger than her apartment. I feel sorry for them They don't know how to live."
And then team NYC fully jumped into the fray: "For us Manhattan-ites, a tiny apartment in Manhattan is our heaven. A spacious Mc-Mansion in the suburbs would be our hell!"
Gloves were off: "Sooo, you never make coffee, never have a bottle of white wine you need to chill, never want cold water in summer, never even make toast? You obviously never entertain, or know the joys of a beautifully prepared romantic dinner. Never will enjoy the privacy of an intimate dinner for two; you would have share those moments with an entire restaurant."
And it just got uglier: "I can't imagine living in a city full of people willing to live in that city."
Ending with what almost sounds like a wishful thinking for city-cide? "I just wonder what will happen when some disaster closes the restaurants? Will you riot? Or just sit down and starve? NYC is only 4 hours from starvation. My house is 6 months."
Of course, we need to take a deep breath, remember that this is all just in response to a fluff article about a few people that store their shoes in their refrigerators and that the commenters are all, presumably, well off enough to afford homes with heating, electricity and running water - and are even fairly literate. I, who like to imagine myself a level-headed reasonable person, was even in the process of registering with then NYPost so I could come to the defense of my urban compadres -when I stopped myself (and wrote this post instead).
What is happening here? If we can so easily exercised over apartment sizes and residential choices, what else cannot get us up in arms? Not much. The power of identity - and of belonging to a team that shares that identity - will creep up wherever it can.
In a class I took last fall, the professor split us into two groups to play a 5 minute game. I won't go into the details of the game - but it wasn't very intense; none of us had to get out of our seats, most of us didn't even have to speak, and those that did speak only had to make a negotiation offer or accept/reject that offer. The game wasn't so interesting, but what was surprising was the immediate feelings that arose about the "other" side - that included disdain, distrust and even anger.
In that case the only thing to identify ourselves as part of the team was the professor saying "everyone on this side of the room is on team "A."
