The pick is in!

Image courtesy of @rocinante_11

*Update: Whilst most of the declarations of this piece hold true, the author has since decided to restore his allegiance to the New England Patriots. We apologise sincerely for any emotional inconvenience or otherwise this piece may have caused.

By now, you know the story. I have a rare and sometimes annoying terminal condition that causes me to switch sports allegiances when I’m experiencing intellectual stasis, hyper-productivity, fresh infatuation, romantic loss, spiritual and/or existential doubt, or attempting some form of creative or otherwise professional pilgrimage — some of which I am trying to document in a novel.

I have tried and failed to resist years of following the New York Yankees, by having an on-and-off affair with the Chicago Cubs — since these clubs generally keep out of each other’s business, in part by collapsing just before or early in the playoff hunt, this is the one form of polyamory (sporting or otherwise) I’m able to sustain. I am certain in my adoration of the New York Knicks and fairly well-versed in what it means to be a Tottenham Hotspur supporter; though I am known to swear the occasional blood-oath, peering towards my silver years, like the one I have with my late father’s passion for Newcastle United.

I had one such blood-oath with the New Orleans Saints, believing that city (still) to be a capital of African-American culture. But my feelings towards the franchise have soured over the years: Bountygate wasn’t fun, and it made me question what character of men (former) head coach Sean Peyton and quarterback Drew Brees really are. A middling attitude towards a middling division, which the Saints are never by any means a lock to escape, has also proven less than inspiring.

My homeboy Tai could probably produce in a court of evidence at least a dozen or more changes of NFL allegiance, last season and this offseason alone — which I can attribute to qualms with different owners and their political donations; with my own quest to determine which sports town I will die in; and that simple, nondescript magic of lighting up inside when a team’s colours dart across the screen. I think I’m ready to settle this, finally, with a love-and-affection draft (it sort of works the other way around) that will eliminate 31 teams with (mostly) a tweet-length assessment before I finally grow the fuck up.

***

32: The New York Jets.

I would like to say something cute like, I can’t have two Tottenham Hotspurs in my life, or two New York Knicks — but the Knicks are good now, and no owner in sports rankles me quite the way the Trump administration’s ambassador to Britain Woody Johnson does. I have also failed conclusively to reconcile with the Jets’ odd, biological shade of green.

31: The Cleveland Browns.

I have never even remotely considered rooting for the Browns, because I have never remotely considered living in Cleveland. (No offence, Ohio.)

30: The Pittsburgh Steelers.

You know that innate, natural passion I just said I’m looking for, that special feeling the moment my team’s on the TV? It is dark and powerful against the Steelers, and their colours, and their towels.

29: The Jacksonville Jaguars.

I liked a girl who went to college in Jacksonville once. You don’t always need to shoot your shot.

28: The Baltimore Ravens.

The dispassion I feel for the Steelers is proportional to that I feel for the Ravens. It’s nothing personal. I just hated watching their ground-and-pound brand of football in my Brady years, how much they talked it up, and I consider purple home attire (in any sport) ridiculous.

27: The Kansas City Chiefs.

Even though I’m a stadium groupie of note, the Arrowhead does not offer nearly enough motivation for me to overlook the bandwagon or how nauseatingly red their branding is.

26: The Los Angeles Rams.

A PowerPoint franchise with a PowerPoint coach and a PowerPoint fanbase. Sorry: you all just seem like a super-productive brainstorm to me.

25: The Tennessee Titans.

Even though the Titans have a neat uniform, and almost always draft or sign fun players, the city of Nashville is constantly rescinding invitations to visit some day.

24: The Minnesota Vikings.

The number one reason is I think those helmets with the horns on them are dumb. Number two is I really hate the Skol Song.

23: The Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

Florida, outside of Miami, makes no material sense to me. Even Miami makes little material sense to me.

22: The Buffalo Bills.

Even though there are things to admire about quarterback Josh Allen and the wider chaos of Bills Mafia, Buffalo seems like it would be ummmmmmm maybe too much of a trip? (Also, please update the logo.)

21: The New York Giants.

Fun to watch every four years. Very, very hard to watch in those meantime years, and also one’s Patriots genetics run a little deep.

20: The Arizona Cardinals.

Another franchise that does fun things, and for the foreseeable future will be led by the always-amusing Kyler Murray at centre; but … no.

19: The Indianapolis Colts.

This team and how it carries itself, as a sort of heartland champion of the small-market sports fan, is a branding masterclass. But I struggle to envision a life or even a day outside the Lucas Oil Stadium.

18: The Detroit Lions.

I feel like this franchise, just for spiritual marks, should be lower down the list. That bubble-gum blue jersey does nothing for me, and that logo belongs on a box of takeaway chicken.

17: The Philadelphia Eagles.

Drafting 17th is a mark of respect. I will never ever root for a Philadelphia franchise in my life, unless — UNLESS — I am offered the keys to the city or marry a very loyal Phillies fan.

16: The Carolina Panthers.

Charlotte was good to me in the three months I spent over there, and I actually don’t resent the idea of going back, starting up a nice little dynasty, leasing a pickup truck, etc.

15: The Cincinnati Bengals.

Again — I’m sorry, Ohio. But I’m really big on history and Wonder-of-the-World arenas.

14: The Seattle Seahawks.

I will not, unfortunately, dedicate my life to a sports team just because Sleepless in Seattle was a fun time. (That Mariners’ park does light up the telly, though …)

13: The Washington Commanders.

There’s an alternate universe where this makes complete sense: that burgundy-and-gold merch, all those dreamy trips to the bookshops around DuPont Circle, etc etc.

12: The New Orleans Saints.

We’ll always have those Chris Berman highlights, I guess.

11: The Miami Dolphins.

Jeopardy moment: what is Miami?

10: The Atlanta Falcons.

Many teams on this list don’t make heuristic sense on a stack that would also include the Yanks and the Knicks; in part because they have loud baseball and basketball teams of their own.

09: The Dallas Cowboys.

This is, in my opinion, the most effortlessly cool team in the league. But rooting for them seems to come with extra baggage, an actual donation of limb and logic I’m not prepared to execute.

08: The San Francisco 49ers.

Too big to actually fail. Also too damn red.

07: The Denver Broncos.

There’s yet another alternate universe where this also makes complete sense. Gorgeous stadium, gorgeous merch, and a timeless brand ID — but I haven’t felt anything for them since they traded Jay Cutler, and Jay Cutler’s doubled down on being an asshole now.

06: The Houston Texans.

I know what folks mean when they talk about the South as a place that builds the best players, and how much football means across that collection of States. (The author Bryan Washington has also done great work to illuminate Houston as a cultural hotbed.) But this team is trending way too loudly right now, so I can only wish them the best.

05: The Green Bay Packers.

One of my earliest and fondest memories of American football is watching Brett Favre play one of the last games of his final season in the snow, making the wildest plays like a kid in the playground. But the stack doesn’t add up, and Favre (also) is kind of an asshole now.

04: The New England Patriots.

My favourite thing about Quarterback-of-the-Future Drake Maye is he’ll go up and get it — first down by any means necessary, even if the means don’t involve throwing the football. I have attempted multiple reunions with the Pats, however, and it just hasn’t felt the same.

03: The Chicago Bears.

The ‘stack’ decrees that rooting for one Chicago team requires me to root for at least one other — and the Cubs, for now, are just a really nice person I take vacations with.

02: The Los Angeles Chargers.

Even though quarterback Justin Herbert is my favourite player in the league, I’m unable to picture a life with the Los Angeles Chargers if he isn’t on the field. One of the primary factors in loving a team, for you young ones listening, should be the badge.

01: The Las Vegas Raiders.

Love the badge, with or without its callback to the glory years of West Coast rap. Love the clean-ass unis. Love the swagger players have once they’re wearing them. Love that these Greg Papa calls, “Touchdownnnnnnnnnnnn, Rrrrraiders!” will live forever in franchise lore. Love the poetry.

Image courtesy of @danielalvasd