Jared Max: Hating On 'Hate' — Even In Sports
By Jared Max
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When you were a little kid, did you ever say "I hate you" to one of your parents? If so, did you hate yourself soon? And have you reconciled your use of this dangerous word? Or do you still use it incorrectly, regularly?
I hate the word "hate." It is a misleading crutch. It confuses. It divides.
On the heels of another anniversary marking the robbing of John Lennon's life, I have been thinking about what the Beatles legend would say about our modern society's comfort in using the word "hate." After all, if all we need is love, why have we allowed ourselves to become sidetracked by its counterpart?
The word has been on my mind since Monday, when I read a story about which NFL teams are most hated in each state. While this survey seems innocent while also being salacious, it reeks of negativity. I am intrigued by the results but soured by its lack of depth. Why do more people in Texas claim to hate the Cowboys more than the Eagles, while the majority of Pennsylvanians surveyed hate their in-state native Pittsburgh Steelers more than the Eagles ? Why are the Jets the NFL's most hated team by citizens in our northeastern and southeastern peninsulas?
Without offering explanations backed by scientific evidence to these obvious questions, this survey succeeds in attracting a high number of page views, spreading hate. While seemingly innocuous, it sends a message that hating is OK. Sadly, millions are tricked into believing their hatred is real for NFL teams that are, essentially, characters in a show, parts of our leisure.
When I was a teen, I used the word "hate" toward sports figures all the time. Even toward members of my favorite teams. At one time or another, I hated Vikings head coach Les Steckel. I even wished sordid, graphic details of the death of the team's offensive coordinator. "Don't say that, Jared!" my father yelled. "No, Dad. I hope he dies." While I was hating on the fact that my favorite football team did not appear to be utilizing its offensive weaponry, my words were gross hyperbole. I am grateful that my father put me in line, forcing me to question my language.
When we callously use certain words, we become more likely to believe the propaganda we spew. Rhetoric becomes reality. Reality gets skewed. Reactions become visceral. Our limited time and energy is wasted on an unnecessary, fruitless process.
Every once in a while we need a reality check. We need to be reminded of what is most important. As my favorite John Candy movie character, Del Griffith, shared with a seemingly cold marketing executive he met on an airplane, "Like your work. Love your wife."
When I hold a mirror to this statement, I come up with this: "Hate situations. Don't hate people."
When we hate people, we create anger. We marry ourselves to emotions that are unproductive. If we recognize those situations, we create possibilities. Then, we can identify problems so that we may find solutions. Lennon sang something like this, too.
While watching the wheels go round and round for over 40 years, I have identified there is a difference between hating people and hating situations.
Countless times, I have been accused of hating Carmelo Anthony. I hate this because it makes me feel like I am misunderstood. I hate the fact that many friends who are Knicks fans have been fooled by their team buying into Melo ball. Further, I hate feeling like I will continue to have to bang my head against the wall if I want to try to convince Knicks fans why their team will never win a championship with a certain somebody as its centerpiece.
Strangely, while I have called out Alex Rodriguez significantly more than Anthony, I have never been called an "A-Rod hater." Have the masses come to absorb the same light I claimed to see over a decade ago?
I don't hate the Yankees for not offering David Robertson more money. I hate the fact that I may enjoy fewer Yankees victories next year because D-Rob signed with the White Sox. I hate the fact that a team-first player who seamlessly transitioned the closer duties from Mariano Rivera won't be in the Yankees clubhouse next year. I don't hate the White Sox for offering an irresistible contract. I won't hate on Robertson when he closes a Chicago victory at Yankee Stadium.
I hate the fact that the Giants have played in New Jersey since 1976 and the Jets since 1984, yet neither team has been comfortable enough with its true identity to change its name from New York to New Jersey. I don't hate the teams. I hate the fact that they have been playing in my home state, within minutes from my home, and we still are told to call these teams by the name of the same state that fancies itself so much that it charges $14 per vehicle to enter.
I hate that I have five boxes on my kitchen table that need to be prepared to get returned to Amazon. I don't hate the vendors for selling me items that failed to meet my expectations or match my body size. I hate the fact that I was unsuccessful in some online purchases and now need to spend time trying to locate my orders that correspond to unlabeled boxes so I may print postage labels before grabbing my scissors and packing tape before I make a trip to the post office.
I hate the fact that the decisions of two grand juries have not only divided races but also good friends. I hate the fact my Facebook experience has turned lately from a communal leisure to a hate-filled forum. I don't hate Facebook. I don't hate the users. I hate the situation. I don't hate the people involved in Ferguson or Staten Island. I don't hate the cops. I don't hate the protesters. I hate the fact that there seems to be great imbalance in our legal and justice system. I hate that there are so many people who feel that they are treated unfairly. I hate the fact that some of my friends (and high-ranking politicians) say it is OK for protesters to force motorists into a standstill, making innocent fellow civilians fear for the safety of themselves and their property, but vociferously condemn the actions of "BridgeGate."
Hating players or sports teams may seem relatively benign. It is not. If our emotions can be stirred to a degree that we turn to a word like hate to describe our feelings about a leisure like sports, we have shown significant evidence to that we have lost touch. It's a TV show, folks. You wouldn't lose sleep hating a soap-opera character. So, why do you hate LeBron James? Tony Romo? Derek Jeter? Bill Belichick?
When you figure it out, don't hate yourself for being a hater. Hate the situation. Then, you can correct it.
Jared Max is a multi-award winning sportscaster. He hosted a No. 1 rated New York City sports talk show, "Maxed Out" — in addition to previously serving as longtime Sports Director at WCBS 880, where he currently anchors weekend sports. Follow and communicate with Jared on Twitter @jared_max.
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