The Roots of Passion

Those of us who grew up in college football country -- you may put your hands down now -- might have a hard time understanding the fuss over the Yankees-Red Sox rivalry, the latest chapter of which kicks off (sorry, it's a habit) on Monday with a three-game series in the Bronx.

All I can tell you is this: I pay one-hundred-and-something dollars every season for the MLB Extra Innings package on my cable system because my wife wants to watch Sox games on NESN. Schooled in Andover, Massachusetts, she's a card-carrying member of Red Sox Nation. She even has a personalized Florida license plate that indicates her team of choice. As irrational as you may be about the Gators, Seminoles, Hurricanes, Fighting Irish, Trojans, or Delaware Blue Hens, that's what Mrs. Watson is like when she watches the Red Sox. And if they happen to be playing the Yankees, you better buckle up. My seven-year-old son's first words were "Yankees suck."

Interesting conversation at my house the other night on the topic of college fans versus pro fans in our home state of Florida. To test a theory -- and as we all know, I love theories -- I asked my dad, who is strictly and solely a college guy, to name the Florida pro franchise that has the most passionate, loyal, and demanding fan base.

Without hesitation, he said "the Dolphins," which is the correct answer.

Why?

Because they're the oldest pro franchise in the state. In fact, they are the only pro team in Florida with roots in the 1960's, having entered the old American Football League as an expansion team in '66. The next-oldest pro team -- and arguably the one with the next-most-passionate fan base -- is the Tampa Bay Bucs, who came ten years later. By comparison, the NBA didn't come to Florida until the Miami Heat were born in 1988 (with the Orlando Magic coming one year after that). The NHL's first Florida franchise was the Lightning in '92, followed by the Panthers in '93. 1993 also brought us MLB's Florida Marlins, with the Devil Rays following in '98. In between, we gained a third NFL franchise when the Jacksonville Jaguars launched in 1995. That's nine professional franchises in our state in the four "major" sports, only two of which -- the Dolphins and Bucs -- have been around longer than 20 years. Both of our hockey teams, both of our baseball teams, and one of our football teams didn't exist until the decade of the '90s.

Now consider the Big Three college football programs of Florida, Florida State, and Miami: the Gators celebrated their 100th season of football in 2006; Miami's football program started in 1926 (the same year as the Great Storm that spawned the school's athletic nickname), and the Seminoles date back to 1947. In a state like Florida, where everybody moved here two years ago and everything was built last week, that's practically prehistoric.

And that, I think, is what distinguishes Florida as a college sports market: history. Fandom is passed down from generation to generation, from parent to child. My wife sweats the Red Sox because her parents did; with a line that traces back to the 1901 "Boston Americans," the Sox claim several generations of fans. For that matter, so do the Yankees, Cubs, Cardinals, Dodgers, and dozens of other well-established pro franchises, in all sports.

In Florida, the only generational links are those attached to college programs, with the possible exception of the Dolphins. Hence, those teams are the ones that arouse the deepest passions in fans -- they've not only been a part of our lives, but our parents' lives as well. While some of the younger franchises have enjoyed great success -- an NBA title for the Heat, a Stanley Cup for the Lightning, two World Series trophies for the Marlins, not to mention trips to the Finals for the Panthers and Magic -- nobody has "grown up" with those teams yet. Simply put, not enough time has passed. They're still growing as we speak, and so are their fans. This explains why Super Bowl titles for the Dolphins and Bucs seemingly trump championships in other sports for sheer nostalgia -- fans of those teams can remember the good old days, or, in the Bucs' case, the bad old days.

This theory, by the way, is specific to Florida, a state whose urban history is far shorter than that of the Northeast. What I mean is, even though there are college programs Up North that have been on the field forever -- Rutgers, for example, has been playing baseball and football since the late 1800's -- the "city games" elsewhere have largely been of the professional variety. There's also the matter of winning, which I have described in this space before. By themselves, the St. Louis Cardinals have won more World Series titles (ten) than the total combined championships of all the pro teams in Florida (seven: Dolphins twice, Marlins twice, Bucs, Lightning, Heat). Never mind the Yankees, who have won the Series 26 times. Not only do their pro teams have longer histories than ours, they have longer histories of winning. Conversely, our major college programs aren't just old, they're good: five championships for Hurricane football, two for the Gators, two for Florida State, not to mention Florida's consecutive basketball titles and the dozens of College World Series appearances for all three schools. While Northern schools like Rutgers, Princeton, Yale, and even Syracuse have been competing intercollegiately for decades, no single state can match Florida's body of work in college athletics.

Okay, maybe Texas or California, but you get the point.

Does this mean that pro teams in Florida other than the Dolphins have no shot at developing a generational fan base? Of course not. Like I said, it's simply a matter of time. Winning helps, but longevity is the true essential. Put it this way: the Chicago Cubs have been developing new and exciting ways of either sucking or breaking their fans' hearts since 1870, and yet, Wrigley Field is full every day. The Cubs are a constant. There's nobody in Chicago old enough to remember a time when the Cubs didn't exist. Bringing it home, my two kids will grow up with nine pro teams in Florida, and they will never know anything different. That's how passion forms.

Just ask my wife.