Don’t Be “That” Guy

Being a sports fan, I am a passionate person.  Most true blue fans might describe themselves the same way.  I appreciate passion, enthusiasm, emotion, and just plain good fans.  But I’m also annoyed with people.  There are lots of them in the realm of sports fandom who are really starting to grind my gears. 

Someone needs to tell these chuckleheads that their behavior is not appreciated and will no longer be tolerated.  Let’s face it; these are mostly men who have lost touch with reality.  So, in my ongoing efforts to make the sports universe a happier place, I’m urging you, pleading with you, and warning you: Don’t be these guys. 


We’ve all seen this guy.  He’s all too common and he needs to be stopped.  I’m not anti-jersey.  I own jerseys.  If you wear the jersey to a game, I have no issue with you.  If you’re a grown man wearing a jersey to Chili’s in front of your family, then you need a mirror and relatives with the guts to tell you how ashamed they are.  I’m no fashion guru, but even I know that sporting a faded Favre jersey and tucking it into your high-waisted jeans is sure fire female repellent.  And don’t tell me your wife doesn’t care.  She does.  A t-shirt, a hoodie, a cap, these are all viable options to show support for your team.  The jersey is not.  Spare yourself the shame and leave the jersey in the closet. 

Wife? Girlfriend? Seems unlikely. (courtesy


 This guy is even worse than “jersey” guy.  This is the Raiders’ fan who wears black face paint and a spike collar.  It’s the Browns’ fan who wears a dog mask and chomps on a bone while barking from his seat behind the end zone.  It’s any liquored-up loser who thought it would be a good idea to spray paint his hair, and don a cape over the cheap, knock-off jersey he bought at Wal-Mart.  Clearly some synapses are not firing here.  Everyone in this guy’s section is embarrassed for him, and embarrassed that he’s on their side. 

This guy is probably thinking, “No one is as big a fan as I am.”  

Wrong, imbecile.  We’re all huge fans; we’re just fans with dignity. 



It was mildly humorous once.  Now it’s just a pitiful cry for attention.  Congrats, your voice was on TV for 2.6 seconds.  What a badge of honor for you and your grandchildren.  This guy does get around because he seems to be at nearly every tee box and every green at every PGA event in the country.  Nothing can ruin the tranquility and serenity of a Sunday at The Masters like this guy.  The wind is rustling, the birds are chirping, and Jim Nantz’s voice is putting me to sleep.  Suddenly, I’m rattled back to consciousness with “Get in the hoooole!”  Dude, it’s the first shot on a par 5.  That ball is going nowhere near the hole.  Shut up.  I want this guy banished from the course.  I’m calling on all golf patrons to identify this guy and turn him into security.  Let’s make the phrase illegal, and let’s rid the links of this pest. 


I play fantasy football and I enjoy fantasy football, but this guy almost ruins it for me.  Come into work on Monday morning and there he is just waiting to give you the breakdown on each of his four teams.  

“In my keeper league, I’m down by 47, but I got Brady and Santonio Holmes in my flex position.  Think I got a shot?”  

I don’t care buddy. 

“Can you believe this?  Michael Turner had 30 points but I benched him for Jamal Charles and Charles only got me nine.  I was so ticked!” 

What do you want from me, sympathy? 

This should be the rule:  If I bring it up or ask you a direct question about your team, you can talk about it.  If I don’t bring it up, you can safely assume I’m not the least bit interested in your team, your record, or your players.  If you are this guy, please do us all a favor and choke on it. 


No matter what the story or what the achievement, this guy can top it.  He shot a better round, caught a bigger fish, and bowled a higher score than you.  And the most annoying part is he can’t wait to tell you all about it. 

“Hey Tom, you go huntin’ this weekend?” 

“Yeah, bagged a 12-point buck.” 

“Really?  I shot me a 20-pointer, it was awesome!  I waited in that stand for six hours, didn’t even pee or nothin’.  I had the perfect shot lined up but my rifle jammed so I had to take ‘im down with my bow.  Big ‘ol sucker, I got pictures right here.” 

If you played a college sport, this guy played at a bigger school.  If you made a birdie, this guy will tell you about his eagle.  If you watched the game on TV, this guy saw it live.  The worst part about this guy is you know he’s lying.  Everyone who knows this guy knows he’s full of donkey manure.  You want nothing more than to call him a liar, but you have no proof.  Instead you have to suffer through story after story.  People who need constant validation are annoying, and “one upper” guy needs validation like the rest of us need air. 


Let's hope this ball went to someone under the age of 18. (courtesy

 There are few things more desperate than a grown man asking another grown man for his autograph.  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ve been that guy before.  Trust me, I’ve seen the light.  

Autographs should be for kids.  To a kid, an autograph means a close encounter with one of his heroes.  To an adult, an autograph means dollar signs.  The motive is way too transparent.  

I’ve seen this guy at colleges on fan appreciation day.  This guy waits in line in the searing heat for hours to get a signature from a player less than half his age.  Schools and teams should make these sessions for kids only.  Don’t encourage this desperate behavior.  Does this guy really think pro athletes are stoked to see him hanging out near the team bus after a game?  Help your kid realize his sports dream, your time has passed my friend. 


This guy is the lowest life form on sports radio, and that’s saying something because there are a lot of loudmouths out there with their own show. 

Every sports handicapping show is virtually the same.  Two guys named Bruno and The Brick try to convince you that they possess the secrets to beating the spread.  You can easily do all the research yourself and make an informed, intelligent decision, but they want you to pay $59.99 so you can access the Fort Knox Locks of the Week.  

These guys are usually from Jersey, and sound like they work for Tony Soprano. 

“Give us a cawl, just dial the numbuh now.  We got the latest new and injury repohts.  You wanna be a winnuh or a losuh? 

I don’t know what’s worse, these guys or the guys that keep these guys in business. 


This guy is on a mission.  He will do whatever it takes to win the basketball league at your local YMCA.  This guy has the wrist bands, the head band, and when he takes the floor, he takes the fun right out of the game.  

This guy will demand the rock and demand to know why you’re not setting more screens for him.  He will attempt to draw up his “improved” version of the triangle offense during a water break, and he is an expert at throwing elbows in the lane.  

What this guy doesn’t realize is, he’s too fat, too slow, and way too far past his prime to accomplish anything worthwhile in the realm of sports.  This rec league is his brass ring.  While you’re happy to be getting some exercise, this guy is livid that a foul wasn’t called on the 3-pointer he just air-balled.  

Basketball, flag football, or mixed doubles, it’s all about a shot at glory for this guy.  No matter how small or insignificant the prize, this guy will not be told to “settle down” or “take it easy.”  This guy will tell anyone who will listen about his past triumphs while wondering why his wife and kids don’t attend more games.  This guy is an unstoppable force of testosterone, rage, and sweat.  Sadly, this guy is in every league in every town in America.  He’ll only be silenced when he blows out his knee and thankfully, that’s only a matter of time. 

Again, I’m asking don’t be these guys. Everyone has a responsibility to make sane, logical sports decisions.  Let’s slowly expose these guys, so the rest of the guys (the normal guys) can enjoy their sports the way they were meant to be enjoyed.  Thank you all for your assistance.