Did it really bother you when the Canucks got beat by the Oilers in overtime on a dreary Sunday night in October?
Did you give a hoot when Alice Wong battled back from the dead (she was buried and the funeral was in full swing on CTV) to retain her Richmond Centre seat in the House of Parliament on Monday night?
And could you care less what the street banners draped from the city’s lamp posts are going to look like next year?
Being almost exclusively a soccer fan, I didn’t bat an eyelid when learning that Edmonton had taken the “W” from Vancouver, especially when there are 30,427 games to go of a season that never dies. (Don’t get me started on North American cricket, AKA baseball.)
I also admit, when covering the federal election the other night, I had to suppress bewildered chuckles when all and sundry at Wong’s campaign office put down their root beers and dim sum to yelp with delight and punch the air when it became apparent their, dare I say, hero was clawing back the deficit.
(Just what Wong’s brigade of followers think she’s going to achieve in Opposition that she didn’t do in power is beyond me — but who am I to judge?)
The street banners, however, I — all of a sudden — do give a toss about.
Really? “The street banners?” you may ask.
The answer, you’ll be pleased to know (or maybe you couldn’t care less?) for giving a monkey’s about all of the above is something called “emotional investment.”
Investment of your precious emotions and time leads to deep commitment and further investment that serves to progressively strengthen that attachment — or so says www.alan’samatueurpsychology.com.
Until Tuesday night, I would’ve been hard pressed to recall any of the previous year’s street banners. However, having had the privilege of spending a few hours poring over and judging next year’s publicly-submitted banners...I now care.
The same rationale applies when it comes to explaining why I’m a lifelong supporter of a small, provincial Scottish soccer team, which generally languishes in the wrong end of the league table and flirts with “disaster” every season, aside from two magical cup-winning moments in the 38 years. I’ve “invested” in Killie, with little hope of anything in return.
It’s the same reason Canucks fans “blindly” roll into Rogers Arena game after game, year after year, dreaming that this season might, just might, be THE Stanley Cup season.
And it’s undoubtedly a similar passion that fuels the fire burning under Wong’s army.
We’ve all got one thing in common, though – we give a damn. And I’ll take that ahead of apathy, win, lose or draw.
