I went to the Chargers game with jbox and Johnny Dub on Sunday. We were celebrating Johnny Dub's upcoming marriage. Sorry, ladies! Too late! Tooooooo late!
It really struck me how much of a football town San Diego is. Even with the non-sellout, there was Charger gear errywhurr. Granted, you had some fans that didn't know to STFU when the Chargers were on offense, but that can be forgiven.
What would it take to get that atmosphere at Petco Park? I'll tell you. Get rid of the old people. Old people don't like the loud. They like the quiet. But old people also like to hear the music and the PA announcements just in case something important happens. So the combination of those two things means speakers that are too loud and shushing anytime somebody tries to start a cheer.
While at the game I tried out a new heckle. I've heard from a little bird that next year's marketing is going to focus on San Diego and such. That said, I wanted to submit my own slogans and heckles to go along with them.
My favorite one: Don't be such a f_cking tourist. Go San Diego.
There were a couple of completely reasonable Jaguars fans in front of us at the game and after one of the turnovers, when the crowd just kinda quieted down in stunned silence, they got up and turned around and yelled something like, "what! What!" So then, I yelled, "GO BACK TO YOUR HOTEL ROOM, TOURISTS."
I kinda like the sound of it. If they are tourists, then how badly can they feel about being called a tourist? Except that nobody really likes to be seen as a tourist.
If they aren't tourists then what can they say back?
"I live here". Well then you're rooting for the wrong team, tourist.
"My parents rooted for the Cubs so I do to." Oh, and you still live with your folks? OK, that's fine then widdew baby toowist. Go woot woot po' da cubby bayows.
In any case, it's not exactly hostile. If Tourist wants to spend Tourist Money here, then that's cool. If "San Diegan" wants to pretend to be a tourist and root for the wrong team at Padres games, then that's fine too. Just know that everybody thinks you're a tourist so you may as well pop the collar on your polo shirt, ask me to take a photo of you holding up the peace sign and wear your yellow swim trunks 5 miles from the beach while trying to confusedly figure out if F Street comes between 4th and 5th Ave.
You know. Play the part.