In a Crowd

I don't go to sporting events all that often. It's not that I don't like them, it's just that the identity I chose to adopt when I was going through puberty was strictly non-athletic. Which is kind of a pity because, according to my mother I have the perfect build for swimming, baseball, pole-vault, shotput, and probably tennis, basket-ball volleyball and soccer. Oh, and football. And wrestling. Such wasted potential. The few times I've gone to a Jays game here in Toronto, or happened upon a random basketball game involving my little sister, I've kind of liked it. I didn't feel a nostalgic sense of regret, a longing to be involved, but it provided a good show.
It's infectious how quickly the shouts, cheers and taunts come. I would watch these games with no real emotional investment at all, and yet I would be cheering and shouting like a pro. Like my dreams were coming true and I were relishing every moment of it. I'll admit, part of me was doing it ironically. I'm making a joke with myself, and as always, I think I'm a laugh riot, even if everyone else thinks I'm just a devoted fan- which, secretly, and pathetically, makes it even funnier.
I especially liked to shout conversational encouragement, or use cliche English essay language.
"Despite the failure of your earlier attempts," I'd call, hands cupped around my mouth, "I feel impressed to conjecture that your subsequent pitches will be met with success." I'd continue, still shouting, "Nevertheless, If I'm wrong and a strike out eludes you, It is important to stress that I will still believe in you." I'd repeat that last bit. In fact, "I believe in you" is my absolute cheer.
But, you know what, I don't think my cheering made any difference to the outcome of the game. I don't think the players heard a word of my encouragement, they missed its eloquence. And I probably annoyed the actual fans beside me. I realized this was equally true whether I was among thousands at a baseball game, or among twenty a community league bout. Cheering isn't heard by anyone. Shouting in a crowd of shouters is futile.
But it feels nice to think maybe you'll get attention. It feels important. And just making noise is communal. It connects you with other shouters, even though you somehow remain anonymous and alone. Which is why I'm posting this. I'm shouting my name at a concert, thinking maybe someone will hear me.
Plus, all the cool kids have blogs. And i don't want to be unemployable.