Cheering for the Home Team

In high school I always felt uncomfortable and awkward at pep rallies. It was hard for me to understand the point of all the screaming and pageantry. I rarely attended sporting events and I don’t recall ever caring very much who won.

I was part of a band program that took music very seriously and we competed from time to time. I practiced hard and I wanted us to sound good, but I still wasn’t exactly loosing sleep about how the band scored. When I went to Wright State it was even worse. Almost nothing that happened in Dayton seemed all that important to me.

I have lived in the Southern Ohio for about 15 years, but I couldn’t tell you right now how many games the Bengals have won this season and I know even less about how the Reds are doing. I have never had a whole lot of “team spirit.”

I’m not saying I hated everyone around me (at least, not until exam week came around). I was genuinely invested in the good fortunes of all of the people I had direct connections to. But when it came to awards and competitions and bragging rights, I guess I never really felt like a part of “the team.”

If this were a therapy session, I guess I would have to talk about what I’m really feeling and how my aloof attitude is really a way to make up for my own insecurities. There would probably be tears and breakthroughs and Stuart Smalley affirmations about how “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.” But while there's no shame in getting help from mental health professionals, this is not a therapy session.

I only say all of this so that you understand my surprise when I found myself watching Clash of the Choirs this week on NBC. I may have taken a bathroom break while Michael Bolton’s choir performed, but I didn’t want to miss a second of Nick Lachey’s team from Cincinnati. They were my team.

Something was different – something I can’t explain. I actually cared who won. For once, I was cheering for the home team. I was also cheering for Children’s Hospital, which would get the prize money if they won. (I spent a few days there a while back when I had back surgery and I have a lot of respect for the people there.)

For me, it was surreal being so invested in what, in a lot of ways, was really a pretty arbitrary competition. I was biting my nails (figuratively) when they announced who would be eliminated. I felt proud when they won even though I had almost nothing to do with their success.

I am not, nor have I ever been, a big fan of 98° or Nick Lachey. (I’ve met Justin Jeffre, though. I like him a lot.) I didn’t know anyone who performed. But a lot of things have changed over the past year, and somehow I think it’s made me feel like a part of this city. Who knew?

I could get used to this.

Go Team Cincinnati! We’re… uh…. number one! That's how it goes, right?

~Geoffrey Dobbins
Vice President, UCABJ