When my Chinese classmates ask me what it’s like to live America, I usually default to a variation of canned responses that include topics with vocabulary I have learned and that allow them to build up a general picture of how their lives would be different if they attended school in the United States. Among the jabber about college atmosphere and individualist American culture, I always make sure to talk about our sports. Maybe it’s the duty I feel as a columnist and as a sports fan that makes me proudly discuss how important sports are in the lives of young adults here.
Just last week, my Chinese class went through a lesson about the different kinds of soccer fans in China, and some of the vocabulary struck me as odd. They seemed to understand the word “fan” in English on a more literal level: someone who is a fanatic supporter of a sport. In the United States, we use this term loosely to describe any person that has an interest in watching or playing a sport. I didn’t think there would be much of a difference in how it’s used in Chinese, or at least in how my little section of Shanghai uses it.
I thought about who we call fans back in the States and I, regrettably, had to admit to myself that we Americans will call anyone who claims to like a team, regardless of their level of dedication, a fan of that team. Over here, the use of that term is a little different. To be called a fan, you have to earn it.
My Chinese classmates show a dedication toward sports that I believe is lacking these days among Americans of a similar age. I’m not saying the United States doesn’t have any die-hard sports fans, because we all know there are plenty. Instead, I want to paint a picture of the dedication that I have yet to see anywhere in the United States.
China isn’t the only place this sort of dedication is displayed. When it comes to a sport like soccer or cricket in other nations, you either represent the city or club you were born nearest to, or you’re ridiculed mercilessly by your peers for the rest of your tenure as a supposed “fan.” Rivalries between these teams run as deep as the wounds recieved during brawls between supporters. In America, you can jump on a bandwagon. In other countries, you’re rooted to your team.
About six full-sized outdoor basketball courts are squeezed into the limited space outside my dormitory. With nets torn and concrete baring large, uneven cracks, these courts are hardly what any basketball player would call ideal. But, regardless of their condition and regardless of the hour of the day, these courts are being used. There are no lights on these courts. When the sun drops below the horizon of skyscrapers and darkness falls, all that provides light to the courts is the reflection of the city’s lights off of the clouds in the sky. You can barely see a thing. If you think that not being able to see the hoop at the end of the court would deter these Chinese basketball fans, you’re wrong.
It takes a special kind of passion for the game to stay out in the dark and play a sport that is particularly difficult even on a fully-lit indoor court. When I go into Yates on the weekends near its closing hours, I could easily grab a ball from the front desk and pick up a spot on one of the few courts inside and shoot around at my leisure. Finding a spot on the courts outside my dorm in China, even in the dark of night, is never a sure bet. We can’t fill the courts in Yates on a weekend night, but these courts on my campus in Shanghai are being used from sunrise on past sunset easily every day, school night or weekend night.
This is that dedication that I am saying is absent in our American sports culture. This devotion to the game is why their understanding of the word “fan” is much more extreme than ours. In this section of the Chinese sports culture, to be in love with a sport entails much more than knowing the score of the last game. It means making that sport an immovable part of your life, where not even darkness can dispel your passion to get out there and compete.
