When someone discovers you follow a poor sports team, the questions are inevitable.
“Why put yourself through that every week?”
“Why not switch to a good team?”
“Where is the fun?”
As a supporter of League Two Cambridge United as well as the Cincinnati Bengals, I have asked myself the same things many times over the years. Decades, in fact.
Being a die-hard fan of not one but two perennial underachievers is a constant cycle of hope and disappointment. Every positive moment is inevitably followed by a soul-crushing blowout or display of record-breaking ineptitude that leaves you questioning your very sanity.
And if you have watched the Bengals this season, I think you know what I mean.
Why even bother?
So why do I subject myself to this emotional rollercoaster, season after season, with so little in the way of tangible reward?
For those who do not ‘get’ sport, it may seem incomprehensible. After all, they say that the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.
But sport somehow defies that logic. The joy is there, waiting to be unearthed by those willing to stay the course and look beyond the losses.
The unbreakable bond of loyalty
At the heart of this fandom lies one of the purest forms of loyalty. Most of us pick a team – sometimes influenced by family or location – and stick with it. I chose the Bengals because I loved tigers as a kid.
When your team is successful, allegiance is easy. But if not, that loyalty is tested, and takes on a deeper meaning. It becomes less about the results and more about standing by something, no matter how difficult. It feels like blind faith at times, but it is faith nonetheless.
Loyalty is not contingent on success. It is about the time, effort and emotion you have invested – let alone the money – even when that investment is not reciprocated.
In a way, this mirrors other aspects of life. Just as we stick with loved ones through thick and thin, supporting an underperforming team teaches us perseverance and builds resilience.
A family of fellow sufferers
Luckily, sport is about more than results. The joy comes from an amazing play or an exciting player, and also those you share the experience with.
Sometimes the absurdity of those “How did we lose to them?” moments is laughable. That is when you need people who understand your pain around you.
Gallows humour keeps you sane, and the camaraderie among fans of struggling teams is often the strongest. You have weathered storm after storm and even though the skies rarely clear, you take comfort from being ‘all in this together’.
There is a subculture of inside jokes, shared frustrations and mutual commiseration. From a chant in a sports bar to a passionate online debate or a knowing nod to a stranger in your colours, you feel part of something bigger than wins and losses.
Celebrating the small victories
While fans of dominant teams may take winning for granted, the moments of glory that the rest of us get to savour are rare and often short-lived.
A midseason upset against a rival feels like a championship. A spectacular play might be remembered for years, retold at every fan meet-up. When you are used to losing, every small victory carries more weight.
You also learn patience. You see promise in the young player breaking through or progressing from one season to the next. Where others see failure, you look for growth and potential.
The hope that never dies
And then there is the hope – the eternal flame that sometimes flickers and falters but never quite goes out.
No matter how bad things get, the essence of sport is that anything can happen. Teams have their off-days. Miracles happen.
The annals of sports history are full of teams seemingly destined to lose forever, only to rise again. Take the Chicago Cubs, who ended a 108-year World Series drought in 2016, and Leicester City, who won the Premier League the same year as 5,000-1 outsiders.
In the NFL, the Detroit Lions had won just one playoff game in the previous 66 years until their run to the NFC Championship game in 2023. Even the Bengals reached the Super Bowl in 2021 after finishing 4-11-1 the year before.
These stories remind us that no team is doomed indefinitely. And when that moment arrives, it is sweeter than anything fans of perennial winners could ever imagine. Years of loyalty and belief are finally rewarded. In that instant, all the pain and heartbreak melts away.
More than winning
Of course, I would love to see my teams succeed on the field more often. But maybe the friends I have made, and the path we have walked together, are just as important – if not more so.
To return to the original question: why bother? Because the lows make the highs higher. Because sport is about passion, connection and shared experiences. And because it is unpredictable.
That is why, deep down, there is a part of every fan that hopes… believes… that no matter how many times they have been disappointed before, the next play, the next game or the next season could be the one that changes everything.
So whatever your allegiance, and however bad things appear at any given moment, keep the faith, good people. Keep the faith.
