I love my Denver Nuggets like Po the panda loves Kung Fu, but it is impossible for me to watch every game they play.
I am lucky to see three games a year at Ball Arena with my parents’ quarter-season passes. I work during 75% of their games, and this girl cannot pay $19.95 a month for Altitude Sports to only watch the Nuggets. I get most of my Nuggets debriefs from the NBA app and Instagram. Yes, I am a casual viewer, but you best believe I am still a die-hard fan.
Sports terminology often draws distinction between die-hards and casual fans, like the two are mutually exclusive. ThemeBoy, a sports webpage marketing site, describes casual fans as “laid back.” Casual fans’ lives cannot revolve around the sport, and the fact that casual viewers only watch games here and there makes it impossible for them to be die-hards.
As college students, we often lack the time and finances to devote our entire lives to our favorite sports teams. If I had all the time and money in the world, I would absolutely be sitting courtside, relishing in the sweat spewing off Aaron Gordon’s dreadlocks for 41 days out of the year.
Alas, such is not my reality; I have classes and two jobs that don’t even make me enough money to buy a jersey.
However, this shortcoming of dinero does not keep me from screaming at the television, chanting at bad referees or suffering immense pain when we lose to a bad team (I mean seriously, HOW did we lose to the Washington Wizards?).
According to Bleacher Report, there are a few key elements that make a die-hard fan: devotion, loyalty and attachment. For someone to be a die-hard fan, they have to be in tune with all the stats, give unwavering support for their team even on their bad seasons and be so emotionally entangled with their favorite team that they weep at every bad loss.
I am constantly consuming Nuggets content on Instagram. I follow five Nuggets-related accounts and almost every player on the team (get on IG, Nikola Jokić). If I miss a game, I watch the highlights while I brush my teeth that night.
The Nuggets have my unwavering fandom, no matter what. I was appalled when they lost their 20-point lead in game seven against the Timberwolves in the 2024 playoffs. I had my AirPods in with the game on the radio while at work and nearly threw plates on the floor to express my rage. Opa!
I tracked the team throughout the off-season, watching as our home-grown sixth-man Reggie Jackson was shipped away to the Eastern Conference and praying that general manager Calvin Booth would somehow find cap space to bring back Bruce Brown. I insisted on attending the home opener against Oklahoma City and rationalized that our loss was a good way to start the season.
I have never seen a Nuggets player get injured in a game, but I think if I witnessed Jamal Murray reinjure his knee or our young fastbreak superstar Christian Braun go down hard, I would probably cry or throw up. That would hurt worse than the time I dislocated my elbow during a dance performance.
The Nuggets hold a space in my heart that no other team does.
I was elated to see the Broncos get handed a pass into the 2024 playoffs, but disappointed and unsurprised when we got sent home in the first round. When the Bo Nix magic pays off, I will probably get back on the bandwagon. The Rockies have lost me for good, and hockey is only exciting when they start hitting each other.
I root for my Colorado teams whenever I can, but none of them leave me punching the air the way the Nuggets do.
I ooze the devotion, loyalty and attachment that any front-row-at-every-game fan does. I am a die-hard Nuggets fan, casual viewer and all. Normalize college budget casual die-hard fan culture.
Photo courtesy of The Royal Banner.