Sports hate, the power of friendship, and Super Bowl LVIII

I like to love everyone. That seems like a dumb thing to say, we should all *try* to love everyone, but you'll get my point here in a second. I'm an eternal optimist, while also being one of the most pragmatic people I know. I want nothing more than for everyone to go out and have a good time, as long as the Browns/Guardians/Cavaliers/Crew/Brighton and Hove ((I've adopted Brighton and Hove Albion as my EPL team if I never mentioned that on these pages. Sorry for the confusion.)) teams are not playing. I rarely wish ill upon people en masse or players of other teams my team is playing against, yet I have found myself rooting against Brock "The Warlock" Purdy. I "sports hate" him, the way many others may sports hate Patrick Mahomes for his Kermit voice and bountiful commercials or Travis Kelce for having a hot girlfriend and being vaccinated or Tom Brady for winning all the damn time. Sports hate is one of the purest forms of fandom, where you actively root against the player or team for reasons that might make no sense to you or might make all the sense in the world. But for the 2023 season, Purdy was my nemesis.I have no doubt that Purdy is an upstanding man. He sure looks it! The still-got-baby-fat face, the Kirk Cousins drip, his general demeanor that exudes "every man" lunchpail qualities. By all accounts, he should be my favorite guy, but if he cares about my opinion of him, ((And why shouldn't he, am I right?)) I think he's overrated. The Mr. Irrelevant story is great, and as a Cleveland fan, we stan an underdog short king. But last year, in the 2022 playoffs and Super Bowl week, the love got to be too much. I listen to The Ringer Fantasy Football Podcast, and they mentioned how 49ers fans would rather have Purdy taking snaps for them in a "winner-take-all" game over Tom Brady. It was nonsense to me, some called it "Purdy-pilled" and I stated to my friends that I watch football with every Sunday that I've jumped the shark on Purdy. That he's simply a product of his environment: a coach that breeds great quarterback play, surrounded by the best running back in the league and skill receivers like Deebo Samuel, Brandon Aiyuk, and George Kittle that rank at or near the top of rankings boards. Hence the nickname I've given him and sadly cannot crowd-source on his pro-football-reference.com page of "The Warlock": in D&D, warlocks get their power from a patron, a diety if you will, that wants them to carry out their will in exchange for something. Basically, they sell their soul for magic, like Purdy would have done to land in such a cushy spot and perform as well as he has being the last pick in the draft.So we made a bet at last year's Super Bowl, as you do with friends. Details of the bet: if Brock Purdy wins an MVP, ((The lack of designation of which MVP is important later.)) I would have to come on these pages and profess to the internet that "I am a big dumb dumb and my friends are all big smarts smarts." And so began my sports hate crusade against one Brock Purdy. ((Normally you don't type out people's full names after they've been mentioned once, but Brock Purdy just feels like a name you have to say all together.)) And, thusly, so began his rampage through the season. Purdy finished 6th in passing yards, and third in passing touchdowns, and had multiple instances where he seemingly pulled the rabbit out of the hat in such a way that made it really hard to dislike the man. Throughout the season, the group chat was on fire. Any time MVP odds dropped and Purdy was at or near the top, share and send to Joe. The Warlock scrambles for a first down after nearly being driven into the dirt? Share and send to Joe. In the NFC title game, as Aiyuk catches a bomb off the facemask of a Detroit Lions defender, all fingers get pointed at me. It wasn't teasing, or if it was, it was lighthearted enough that it didn't hurt.And then Sunday's Super Bowl. We never specified league MVP. Super Bowl MVP was on the board, as QBs are rightfully disproportionally more likely to win MVP since they are more important. As the game went on, any good play from Purdy was met with "get them fingees going, Gerbs!" We started calculating what needed to happen for Purdy to do it since the math wasn't mathing on his numbers. For better or worse, Jauan Jennings started to look like he was the odds-on favorite if San Francisco was about to pull off the dub, since he had both thrown and received a tudder. As the Niners raced down the field in overtime, my stomach started to sink. Purdy looked good, and Christian McCaffrey wasn't doing enough to get it. I too loudly proclaimed "if he scores a second touchdown, it's gonna be CMC." Jeers from the peanut gallery. A measly field goal to take the lead wasn't enough with Mahomes on the other sideline and we watched as he drove them down the field and someone threw a touchdown without the vaunted Niners defense set. The game was over and Mahomes won the ship and the trophy. As Purdy looked forlorn on the sideline, one of my friends pointed and yelled "this is who you were rooting against!" Alas, I did not care. My foe was vanquished. And I got to embrace sports hate at its best.