Yes, I love the New York Knicks, San Francisco 49ers, Notre Dame Fighting Irish, Chicago Cubs and Toronto Maple Leafs, but nothing approaches the level of devotion I have for my hometown Tabbies.
Just looking in my closet I have, and this might shock many, six jerseys (Kevin Glenn, Arland Bruce, Jamall Johnson, Stevie Baggs, Dave Stala and Otis Floyd), five t-shirts, four hats, two toques, two hoodies, a pair of winter gloves and a winter jacket. I also own a travel mug and am a season-ticket holder. (I also operate a blog about the Tiger-Cats, which I started almost one year ago.)
Some might say, and in fact many of my non-Tiger-Cat-fan friends have said, that my devotion to the Tiger-Cats is irrational, or to use a phrase from the video we watched in class, that my loyalty is beyond reason.
I disagree. I have a reason, a very well-founded reason: I'm from Hamilton. Being from Hamilton means two things: you only ever drink Tim Horton's coffee and you cheer for the Tiger-Cats. It's in one's blood when they come from Steeltown. We in Hamilton where the Tiger-Cat logo like a badge of honour. You probably see me every week sporting some form of Tiger-Cat merchandise. That's not an accident. It is my way of showing that I am part of the tribe. When you see someone wearing the Black & Gold, you shout "OSKEE WEE WEE!" at them or give them a high five.
Come to think of it, maybe our devotion is somewhat irrational; maybe our loyalty is beyond reason. While we do not cheer for the Cats because of an advertisement, our devotion is just as deeply held (maybe even more so) than those who consider themselves "Mac people" or "Xbox people" or what Leah Burke wrote about, "sneakerheads." Perhaps it does not take an ad to get us to become loyal beyond reason. Perhaps all it takes sometimes is a birth certificate.
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