"Oh... you like the Sharks? Can you even name five players?"
Every time I open an online space, I see people complaining about San Jose Sharks fans. Whether it's an issue about gender, sexuality, or age, people find something to grab onto in an attempt to ostracise these fans even further. Never mind the fact that simply existing as a young, queer female is challenging enough as is; they find a way to exclude you from a sport that brings you joy and connection.
When I first got into the world of hockey, the vast majority of my timeline were other teenagers who had latched onto the Sharks. I could see myself in both the fans and the players — a team with such a young core was bound to attract people of similar ages. In the tumult of the real world, I found a place of escapism, somewhere I could chat to others and just be a teenager. It didn't matter that I was on a different continent; I could bond with others about players and feel the dread of trades as well. It became a space where I could discuss hockey with a silly tone and have a bit of fun.
The simple act of being a new fan brings hockey purists to your mentions, asking when, how, why, and where your interest began — God help you if you mention Heated Rivalry. Of course, I wasn't going to be a Vegas Golden Knights fan. I could count on one hand the number of fan accounts I've seen for certain teams. If there is no coverage, no place where I can feel connected to the fans, it is not viable for me to choose such a team. I cannot go to meet-ups or events, but I can live through the online world and gain a semblance of the experience that other fans get.
I feel as if I have to know everyone who has ever played to be taken seriously. The concept of being a casual fan has been thrown to the dogs, it seems. I feel the same joy everyone else does when our team wins, the same sorrow after a tough loss. Some supporters found out about the existence of ice hockey two months ago, while others have been raised on legendary stories and have had the privilege of watching players like the Sedins, Crosby, and Ovechkin in their prime. Do you not think that I long to have had that historical connection to the team I've grown to love? I won't get to experience the growth of the game the same way as old fans, but I'm here for the future. When I look back in a couple of years, I'd have viewed the prime players of today — Celebrini, Bedard, and soon to be McKenna — and I'll be able to discuss them in the same way I see people talking about players I'd never heard of before then. You will not catch me making fun of, and dismissing new fans for not knowing how free agency or trade deadlines work, because I've lived through it. I was not raised in a country with hockey at its very soul, I've never been to a game, and likely won't ever see my team play in person. This does not inhibit me from enjoying the sport.
