Class is not an easily definable term. Most dictionaries list over 25 possibly meanings of the word, yet none seem to fit the bill in regards to the attitude envisioned by most fans. Many (if not all) fanbases claim to have it and are quick to point out when others don't. Now, more than ever, is the time to show who we really are. If we want to be known as one of the classiest groups of fans in the college football world, now’s the time to put our money where our mouth is. The whole world is watching, who do we want to be?
Success on the field, as in life, brings out the best and worst in people. It’s a duality we all live with. When we’re face down in a ditch, we don’t want our enemies to point it out. But when we’re on the verge of being anointed as God’s gift to football, most of us can’t let results speak for themselves. We compulsively feel the need to rub our opponent’s faces in our success. Why?
My intention isn’t to single anyone out. Over the past 5 years on this site, I’ve said many things I regret. With age comes perspective. There’s never been a better time to be an Alabama fan. We seem to be entering into another “golden age” for our program. We have arguably the best coach in the country, followed closely by some of the best defenders to ever grace our campus and we may even have a Heisman winner walking amongst us after this weekend. A few days ago we dominated Florida for our 22nd SEC championship and Vegas has us as the odds on favorite to win an unprecedented 13th National Championship. Why aren’t we content to let those results speak for themselves?
I know it’s been hard these last 10+ years. It’s been unbearable at times. And I know it’s tempting to want to humiliate those who’ve tried to bring us down. But that’s not what class is, and it’s not who I want to be anymore.
I spent most of my life in Mississippi not fully understanding the rivalry with Auburn. I lived 2 miles from the state line separating God’s Country from Tennessee, and I grew up hating the color orange. For those of you wondering, my Dad and his family are from Tuscaloosa, so I never had a choice as to who I was going to root for, not that I'm complaining I feel lucky that I was born into greatness. Now that I’ve moved to The Shoals, I understand the rivalry. What I don’t understand is why so many Alabama fans worry themselves over what other teams do.
Alabama doesn’t win or lose games based on who I am or what I do. I take pride in rooting for the Tide, but Rolando McClain doesn’t know my name. The Golden Rule is as old as time itself. It’s never changed, but it’s apparently easily forgotten. I’m not going to rag an opposing fan because his team lost a game because I know how it feels to be on the other side of that fence. Auburn could go 0-12, or 11-1, either way I don’t care, and it’s not going to affect me one way or the other. The only team I care about is Alabama. I don’t hate Auburn, I just don’t care about them. To me, irrelevancy is far more painful than hatred. I’m not suggesting we can’t occasionally tease our friends or family who root for other teams, but I don’t understand the joy some people get with degrading an opponent.
I’ve seen some things I’m not proud of over the last few weeks. I don’t want to come off as holier than thou because there have been times in the past when I haven’t been above name calling or gloating. But again, with age comes perspective. For as great of a person as Tebow is, I felt pleasure in watching Alabama ruin his chances at another Heisman and a shot at going 14-0. The difference between my reaction and that of others, is my gratification in seeing Tebow on the sideline came from the fact that we won, not in the fact that they lost. You can be happy you’re team won, but I find no joy in someone else’s misery.
In many respects, I feel vindicated with how our team has performed the last 2 years. The experts have been proven wrong, and in many cases some of our own fans have been proven wrong as we’ve watched our program resurrected from the dead. We’ve had a year full of “I told you so’s.” The time for that has passed.
It’s time we became the fanbase we expect other fanbases to be. It’s time to move past wanting revenge against the world. It’s time we stopped wanting to be the bully. It’s time to dominate our opponent, and shake their hand afterwards. It's time to practice what we preach. It’s time for class.
Success on the field, as in life, brings out the best and worst in people. It’s a duality we all live with. When we’re face down in a ditch, we don’t want our enemies to point it out. But when we’re on the verge of being anointed as God’s gift to football, most of us can’t let results speak for themselves. We compulsively feel the need to rub our opponent’s faces in our success. Why?
My intention isn’t to single anyone out. Over the past 5 years on this site, I’ve said many things I regret. With age comes perspective. There’s never been a better time to be an Alabama fan. We seem to be entering into another “golden age” for our program. We have arguably the best coach in the country, followed closely by some of the best defenders to ever grace our campus and we may even have a Heisman winner walking amongst us after this weekend. A few days ago we dominated Florida for our 22nd SEC championship and Vegas has us as the odds on favorite to win an unprecedented 13th National Championship. Why aren’t we content to let those results speak for themselves?
I know it’s been hard these last 10+ years. It’s been unbearable at times. And I know it’s tempting to want to humiliate those who’ve tried to bring us down. But that’s not what class is, and it’s not who I want to be anymore.
I spent most of my life in Mississippi not fully understanding the rivalry with Auburn. I lived 2 miles from the state line separating God’s Country from Tennessee, and I grew up hating the color orange. For those of you wondering, my Dad and his family are from Tuscaloosa, so I never had a choice as to who I was going to root for, not that I'm complaining I feel lucky that I was born into greatness. Now that I’ve moved to The Shoals, I understand the rivalry. What I don’t understand is why so many Alabama fans worry themselves over what other teams do.
Alabama doesn’t win or lose games based on who I am or what I do. I take pride in rooting for the Tide, but Rolando McClain doesn’t know my name. The Golden Rule is as old as time itself. It’s never changed, but it’s apparently easily forgotten. I’m not going to rag an opposing fan because his team lost a game because I know how it feels to be on the other side of that fence. Auburn could go 0-12, or 11-1, either way I don’t care, and it’s not going to affect me one way or the other. The only team I care about is Alabama. I don’t hate Auburn, I just don’t care about them. To me, irrelevancy is far more painful than hatred. I’m not suggesting we can’t occasionally tease our friends or family who root for other teams, but I don’t understand the joy some people get with degrading an opponent.
I’ve seen some things I’m not proud of over the last few weeks. I don’t want to come off as holier than thou because there have been times in the past when I haven’t been above name calling or gloating. But again, with age comes perspective. For as great of a person as Tebow is, I felt pleasure in watching Alabama ruin his chances at another Heisman and a shot at going 14-0. The difference between my reaction and that of others, is my gratification in seeing Tebow on the sideline came from the fact that we won, not in the fact that they lost. You can be happy you’re team won, but I find no joy in someone else’s misery.
In many respects, I feel vindicated with how our team has performed the last 2 years. The experts have been proven wrong, and in many cases some of our own fans have been proven wrong as we’ve watched our program resurrected from the dead. We’ve had a year full of “I told you so’s.” The time for that has passed.
It’s time we became the fanbase we expect other fanbases to be. It’s time to move past wanting revenge against the world. It’s time we stopped wanting to be the bully. It’s time to dominate our opponent, and shake their hand afterwards. It's time to practice what we preach. It’s time for class.