Vancouver thugs (not fans)would have rioted even if they had won.It’s just an excuse to get drunk.cause mayhem and loot stores.90 days at hard labour-cracking rocks plus full restitution.It’s ALL on film and most of the little cretins will be arrested.
The Sports Riot: First We Lose (Or Win), Then We Set This Sucker On Fire
June 16, 2011
by LINDA HOLMES
A person walks in front of a burning vehicle after riots break out following the Vancouver Canucks’ loss in the NHL finals.
The Vancouver Canucks lost in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup finals on Wednesday night — or rather, the Boston Bruins won the Stanley Cup on Wednesday night. But what’s in the news this morning is the depressingly familiar spectacle of fires, overturned cars, and broken windows. That was in Vancouver, where the team lost. (And where similar problems happened in 1994 when the Canucks lost to the New York Rangers.)
Of course, you can get exactly the same reaction from the fans of a team that wins — take the riots in Los Angeles that happened in June 2010 after the Lakers beat the Boston Celtics in the NBA finals.
If you want more evidence that extreme jubilation can lead to the same tragedies as extreme frustration, consider the fact that there was a death in Boston in rioting that followed Boston Red Sox’ victory over the New York Yankees in the American League Championship Series in 2004 — perhaps the most exuberant moment in recent sports history.
A piece that ran in USA Today in 2004 after the Red Sox riots (and a similar nightmare following the Patriots’ Super Bowl win) looked at prevailing theories about sports riots, centering on youth, alcohol, and the pitched emotions that surround sporting events.
It also mentions the fact that the University Of Maryland had, among other things, attempted to improve fan behavior by prohibiting the band from playing Gary Glitter’s “Rock & Roll Part II,” which you may know as “duuuuuh-nuh (HEY!), duh-nuuuh-nuh-nuh!nuh!”), which is a good sign that nobody really knows what to do about any of this.
The problem is that none of the theories that inevitably emerge are entirely satisfying.
Youth. If this were a matter of “young people will burn cars with little or no provocation if you give them a chance,” wouldn’t they burn cars on New Year’s Eve? The same would apply if you assume it’s young people who are drunk. There are campus parties that involve just as much alcohol as sports celebrations, and they don’t all turn into campus-burning riots.
Drinking. Yes, obviously, alcohol plays a role in many incidents that involve loss of judgment on a grand scale. And drunk sports fans don’t actually need a game of any particularly pitched significance at all in order to start acting like idiots, as you will see if you read up on Ten Cent Beer Night, probably the worst promotion anyone in baseball ever dreamed up. (The ESPN remembrance of the evening does a fine job of noting how goofy behavior transforms into violent behavior: “The jovial, frolicking nudists had disappeared,” it notes as simple chaos turns into a dangerous explosion of fighting.) But there are lots of bars where there are a bunch of drunks every night of the year, and they don’t wind up overturning police cars.
Sports. One of the explanations that makes some inherent sense is that sports already play on some of our more warlike instincts — sporting events get people really, really wound up, so there’s a spillover of excess brutish energy that turns into violence, whether the outcome is positive or negative.
What’s unsatisfying about that explanation, though, is that we manage to have political rallies that are very, very angry, but remain peaceful. If people don’t typically turn over police cars after an election that doesn’t go their way or after being literally rallied, why does the energy from a sporting event have to boil over and wind up with somebody stabbing somebody else?