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You're in [insert team name here] country

  • desterwss
  • May 26
  • 5 min read
Photo credit: Alamy.com
Photo credit: Alamy.com

I was scrolling through Amazon when I came across a banner ad with the words “You’re in Jets country” written in bold letters against a green background. 


“You’re in Jets country.”


“Jets” referred to the New York Jets, a National Football League team. A quick Google search found that each of the other 31 NFL teams had their own version of this message. 


I took a long pause at the word “country”. By using this word, these banners seemed to communicate that their team’s culture and fans are distinct from the rest of the league, to the extent that their fans could almost call themselves an autonomous group. 



But how could every fan believe this? As a Jets fan myself, I knew my team was in the shadow of the New York Yankees, Giants, and Knicks. How could every fanbase point to an overused slogan, and believe it as an accurate representation of themselves? 


To start off, it would be good to understand the intent behind the use of “country"; all 32 NFL teams are within the United States of America, after all. The answer becomes clearer after evaluating the socio-political landscape of our country. 


Trust in the federal government has been diminishing for a long time: A 2022 survey conducted by the Pew Research Center found that 20% of adult Americans have trust in their federal government, a sharp decline from 54% support only two decades ago. The study also revealed that 67%-69% of Americans believe the federal government does not adequately address lower-middle class issues, like high taxes.


The general feeling of distrust in our federal government has sparked a resurgence of tribalist sentiments. In other words, when citizens begin to distrust their government, the response is often to turn to more grassroots, community-run organizations where they feel they can have an impact. 


Humans often prefer to live in smaller, more intimate groups. This tendency has, however, been difficult to maintain for the past seven hundred years. Ligaya Mishan of The New York Times proposed that this is in large part because of the diffusion of European societal development: The introduction of the printing press made it so that face-to-face communication, a critical element in maintaining tribal associations, was less necessary to remain integrated in a society. Similarly, border-based societies—which define communities based on their location, not beliefs—tend to arbitrarily divide up land. Instead of creating new communities, border societies usually divide old ones.


However, the advent of the internet has resurrected tribal instincts. Modern day citizens no longer seem to be tied down to people in their proximity: Anyone can join an internet group chat with members across the world that share their beliefs and customs. Internet algorithms feed us information and recommend users whom we already agree with, cementing our beliefs and blocking out new perspectives, creating cyber-tribes in the process. 


Teams can use social media to promote tribal culture even beyond game day. Photo Credit: Contentstaium.com
Teams can use social media to promote tribal culture even beyond game day. Photo Credit: Contentstaium.com

Humans often act aggressively online when faced with an opposite viewpoint. According to PubMed Central, strong identification with a community’s view increases the chances that a counter viewpoint will be met with an aggressive response. This is compounded by the fact that users do not see each other in person, and so are more likely to speak with less discretion.


The result of all of this? A person can completely disassociate from their physical neighbor, while simultaneously localizing themself to global communities, limited only by the strength of their fingertips. And though these global communities may not look similar to intimate tribes, they share the core quality of a group of people united under the principles, beliefs, and iconography. It’s tribalism… on steroids. 


Where does the Jets banner fit in with all of this, you ask? Competition between two sports teams is analogous to that of two tribes fighting each other. Fans will slather paint representing their team’s colors over their faces, and wear their team's patterns on their bodies. Fans demand revenge for past defeats, and recall victories to rouse supporters and terrify opponents. 


Although sports tribalism was present long before the internet, sports teams in the internet age have learned how to monetize our tribal passions. A study conducted by the Turkish Journal of Sport and Exercise found that, if a fan increased their spending on team products, both their support of their team and hatred for their opponents would increase as well.


Today, the modern fan experience is so much more than a Sunday afternoon hotdog at the stadium. Sports fans are enveloped on a weekly basis by notifications from their sports team’s social media accounts, collaborations between their team and other brands, and constant discussions about team news on forums.


Most American sports teams have little to distinguish themselves fundamentally from each other—most are conglomerates or owned by multi-billionaires, whose ability to change the team’s location means their connection with the fans is dispensable—but increasing team identification, no matter how phony, is a guarantee of long-term profits.


The owner of the NFL Rams, Stan Kroenke, moved the team back to Los Angeles in 2016 because of St. Louis' decline as a city, stranding their St. Louis fanbase. “This team was here for forty-nine years…This is the great history of the Los Angeles Rams,” Kroenke said in an interview. Photo Credit: Los Angeles Times
The owner of the NFL Rams, Stan Kroenke, moved the team back to Los Angeles in 2016 because of St. Louis' decline as a city, stranding their St. Louis fanbase. “This team was here for forty-nine years…This is the great history of the Los Angeles Rams,” Kroenke said in an interview. Photo Credit: Los Angeles Times

One phony example of team identity is—you guessed it—the Jets banner, which says a lot without saying much at all. Nothing unique about the history of the New York Jets, nothing to distinguish the franchise’s years of history. Just change the color and slap on the Jet’s logo, that’ll do. Think that's the only example? Let's take a snippet from the New York Jet’s official fight song, Let’s go Jets.


Go go go go Jets!

Let's go go Jets! Let's show them how to move that ball!

Let's go go go Jets;

The mighty green will beat them all.

You are New York's best! The pride of North, South, East and West!

You're the greatest Jets! C'mon and let's go go go Jets! 


Completely devoid of individual team character. Other teams have this issue, too. Skol Vikings, Fly Eagles Fly, and Hail to the Commanders are equally generic songs. Listen for yourself.


Not every team’s fans rely on superficial or generic trappings—non-generic manifestations of fandom are common if you head across the Atlantic Ocean. For Crystal Palace, a European football team, one-hundred and twenty years had gone by without a single major trophy, yet Selhurst Park’s twenty-five thousand seats fill up nearly every matchday. Instead of flimsy foam pointer hands or plastic cheese heads, Crystal Palace fans turn up to match days with knitted scarves. This tradition started when families began making their own scarves to protect against the cold, a tradition far removed from the commercial exploitation we see in the United States. Palace’s management has a transparent, tight-knit relationship with the fans, fostered by the Fan Advisory Board which meets at least twice a year. When Crystal Palace finally won their first trophy, the Football Association cup against Manchester City on Saturday, the fans were right behind their team the entire time


This could be America’s reality too, only that it doesn’t seem to matter to fans. Supporters will proudly bellow their fight song after a touchdown, unbothered by its unoriginality, and shell out forty dollars for a scoop of ice cream in a miniature football helmet. Teams reward their longtime fans’ support by jacking up ticket prices. This has two major adverse effects on many loyal fans: it either makes seasonal attendance unrealistic for some, or forces some fans to sacrifice basic household necessities in favor of supporting their “family”. 


You might have been expecting me to propose a clear-cut solution. The truth is that concrete change can only come from the team's executive board, or if enough fans protest. Like I already mentioned, however, American fans show little desire to change in this regard. And if we American fans are content living in our walled garden, then that’s really what we deserve.

 
 
 

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