Tribe fans: there's always next year

Throughout my college career, the annoying mantra 'Go Tribe' has pervaded northeast Ohio. For zealous Indian fans, their ballclub represents more than civic pride; rather, the Tribe appears to be the very embodiment of many Clevelanders' souls.

Children wear Chief Wahoo diapers, middle-aged women roam the streets sporting their Omar Vizquel and Jim Thome jerseys, and every resident is required by an unwritten law to don an Indian pro hat.

What's happening here? Has fanaticism become synonymous with public egoism? The answer, as it turns out, is a bit more complex than this initial speculation.

For residents of the greater Cleveland area, baseball seems to be a metaphor for the tumultuous roller coaster that is life. Winning the American League Central division generates the joy usually reserved for the birth of a newborn. Enduring another painful defeat in the World Series championships is more excruciating than passing a kidney stone. Perhaps I am overstating my case, but the facts are undeniable. Try to find one issue of the Plain Dealer during the past four years that did not feature the latest adventures of the Indians on the front page of the news section. Or visit the Tower City mall and count the number of shoppers who are not clad in Tribe paraphenalia. You can count 'em on one hand.

It is also evident that Tribe fans have suffered irreparable psychological damage during the 50 years since their last World Series title. During the regular season, their arrogance is palpable. During the postseason, they are left clenching their fists, reluctantly muttering the phrase so familiar to fans of every other losing team: "Wait until next year."

Despite its drawbacks, such fanaticism is not necessarily evil. The current postseason series between the Tribe and the Boston Red Sox has steered conversation away from President Clinton's libido and back to something more innocent and pure - the national pastime.

Loyalty to a fault may run rampant in Cuyhoga County, where Chief Wahoo has become nothing less than a cultural icon. Sadly, such rabid dedication may leave fans vulnerable to yet another depressing letdown and further psychological scarring. Go Bosox. And to all the Tribe fans out there, remember one thing: There's always next year.