Eleven Signs That You (Or Someone You Know) Might Be a Sports Douchebag

Chances are, if you're reading this post, you're not a sports douchebag. For the most part, Giants fans tend to know better than to act that way. But just in case you need help identifying the closeted Eagles fan in your office or the undercover Redskins fan in your A.A. group, here's a quick and easy reference.

Many sports blogs offer top ten lists of various sorts. But here at Bluenatic, our lists go to eleven:

1) You’re from North Jersey but you root for the Dallas Cowboys, loudly and with much bombast. When pressed, however, you sheepishly admit that you’ve never been to Dallas in your life. Or Irving, where the Cowboys actually play. Or Texas, for that matter. Or anyplace outside of North Jersey, really, except for that one class trip you took in the 8th grade. Or that camping trip when your uncle molested you.

 2) You’ve ever painted your body or face in the colors of your favorite team. This includes the act of being a single letter in a row of likeminded, spelling douchebags of the variety Dick Vitale would describe as “special” (i.e. Dukies). Painting your face or body and going to a game is one thing. Doing the same and going to a place that is not a stadium or arena, like a bar, for example, is something else entirely and borders on Kiss Army levels of scary. (Exception: You are Jessica White; Note: Deduct extra points if you have ever attended a game dressed as Santa.

 3) A team’s logo, name, colors, or a player’s number has ever been incorporated into your haircut. Or you’ve ever sported (or contemplated sporting) a “Bosworth.”

 4) You root for more than one team in the same league, conference, division, or worse, the same city. You’re “a Yankee fan” but you also “root” for the Mets. Or you’re a Michigan grad but you “pull for” Michigan State if they’re in a bowl game as a show of “conference solidarity.” You feel no guilt about having these dual allegiances, and have been known to sport the attire of both teams, sometimes simultaneously (a sin otherwise known as a Double Team Foul). When, inevitably, your two teams clash on the field of play, you write off the game as “win-win.” Win-win douchebaggery, that is.

5) You’re that loud, drunk guy at the sports bar with no rooting interest in any of the football games being broadcast that don't impact your pathetic fucking fantasy team. You cheer (and jeer) players on both sides of the same game, often in a manner which reveals your ignorance of the teams, their fortunes, and the rules of professional football. When finally, an irritated partisan engages you, you concede that you’re trying fantasy football for the first time, playing in a free league with no cash prize, and, when push comes to shove, you “usually root” for the Dallas Cowboys (See #1).

6) You’ve ever worn Zubaz. In public. And then allowed someone to photograph you. Deduct extra points if you've complemented this look with a pair of wrap-around Oakleys, like the douchebag above.

 7) You can’t get over how funny ESPN Page 2 columnist Bill Simmons is. “It’s like that dude is reading my thoughts,” you confess after a few fruity daiquiris. “It’s like he’s writing these columns just for me!” (Note: If this one applies to you, it's possible you might be Bill Simmons.)

 8) You own or desire to own a Fathead. This is one is fairly self-explanatory. (Exceptions: You are ESPN’s Mike Greenberg. Or a darts enthusiast. Or nine years old. Or you have diminished mental capacity.)

9) You regularly wear team apparel not because it reflects your partisanship, but because it matches your Nikes or “looks fresh” underneath your new, leather Scarface jacket. This phenomenon accounts for the unusually large number of Denver Nuggets fans on the Lower East Side and 80% of all non-fan douchebags worldwide who can be seen wearing fitted Yankee caps.

 10) You attend a late season football game without the proper cold weather gear and spend the entire game complaining about how cold you are. You get up several times during the game to buy hot cocoa or coffee from the concession stand, or a $20 stocking cap (w/ pom pom) from the souvenir guy (often to wear on your feet). Then you leave early, presumably to go home and masturbate to Tivoed episodes of The Hills. Or collectible back issues of Savage She-Hulk. Or both. (Note: This also applies if you are "Stadium Blanket Guy" or “Heated Seat Cushion Guy.” Deduct extra points if you are “Oversized Golf Umbrella Guy."

11) Unless you count your five dollar weekly no-spread office pool (won most recently by Phyllis in Accounts Receivable), the only bet you lay down all year is on the length of the National Anthem before the Super Bowl. You then proceed to talk about that bet throughout the entire game except for briefly during the halftime show, which you watch with wide-eyed wonder. You also refuse to participate in the annual box pool because that would mean you'd have to stay to the end of the game and, you know, you’ve got work in the morning. At Douchebag, Inc.