HBO Real Sports produced a report on fan violence and I thought that they summed it up best.............people have a basic fundamental need to identify themselves with something or a pack of people to bond with..... Unfortunately, many folks in today's society, for various reasons, do not have that basic need of belonging to a group fulfilled, .........., thus they attach themselves deeply to a team to identify themselves to a group or "pack" of people or cause... unfortunately, these fans looking to belong to a group take it way too deep....
more articles below on contributing factors.....
URL =- [
www.goodtherapy.org]
Sports generally are viewed as harmless pursuits, a source of social interaction and bonding, exercise, and stress relief. But in recent years, highly publicized incidents of fan violence have raised concerns about the culture surrounding sports. The vicious 2011 beating attack on Bryan Stow at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles is just one such example. Alcohol-fueled fights and skirmishes are increasingly common at all levels of competition, from playgrounds to professional leagues. Most people who have attended a sporting event have witnessed at least one example of an out-of-control fan.
What’s behind this surge in violence? The problem may not be the nature of sports themselves, but rather the way society treats sports in conjunction with personal factors. A closer look at some factors that may contribute to fan violence:
Overidentification
For many sports fans, their teams of choice become a proxy for their own identities. Overidentifying personally with a favorite team may be a contributing factor to sports violence. A person who watches a favorite team lose, or witnesses an unfavorable referee call, may behave as if he or she has personally suffered. The advent of Facebook and other social media, as well as message boards and other gathering places for fans, may make it difficult to disengage from favorite teams or let go of bad memories. These platforms also provide more access to inflammatory views from rival teams’ fans, fueling deep feelings of loyalty, protectiveness, and anger that boil to the surface amid the emotional current of a live game.
Alcohol
Alcohol plays a significant role in many fan altercations. At National Football League games in 2011, more than 7,000 fans were ejected for inappropriate or violent behavior. Some fans spend all morning and afternoon tailgating and drinking with friends before watching the event and then celebrating—or grieving—afterward. People often are intoxicated before even entering a venue. The feelings of deep loyalty and anger that many fans feel can be exacerbated by alcohol consumption.
Hypermasculine Culture
Despite years of progress toward gender equality, many men feel pressured to meet expectations of traditionally masculine behavior. Sports can be a significant platform for masculine identity, and people who identify with hypermasculine culture may be more likely to attend sports events. Combined with adrenaline, overidentification, and ready access to fans with opposing allegiances, some men may be inclined to be violent when exposed to triggers. Likewise, women in hypermasculine environments that promote disrespectful or violent behavior may also be more inclined to engage in it.
Sociological Factors
Certain people are at a greater risk of engaging in violent behavior. People who have experienced a recent stress such as job loss, the death of a loved one, or a perceived humiliation are already on edge and more likely to react emotionally. Many people attend sporting events to alleviate stress. However, when a favored team loses, a person is heckled, or a person loses a significant bet associated with a game’s outcome, stress may explode into rage.
Group Dynamics
Millions of people attend sporting events every year, and the vast majority never commit a violent act. When 100,000 people pack a stadium, though, the odds are high that a number of them are under the influence of alcohol. Combine this with an emotional, hypermasculine environment and exposure to opposing sentiment, and you’ve created a recipe for fan violence. Proactive measures such as reporting inappropriate behavior immediately, limiting alcohol intake, and actively encouraging sportsmanship among peer groups, can help address an increasingly challenging threat to our enjoyment of sporting events
another article
On Monday, a 35-year-old Vikings fan suffered a brutal assault at the hands (and feet) of 49ers fanatics. The bystander effect took hold. Before fans intervened, fans captured the crime on camera with running commentary, reflecting the gift and curse of the digital age: We can document the crimes that once hid in the shadows; we can mistake revelation with action.
This should be the Janay Rice elevator video, the pictures of Adrian Peterson's child. The canary in the coal mine that undeniably illustrates what we already know: That the NFL has a culture problem. Yet despite the rightful and widespread condemnation of the trend — not blip — of violent mentality and crime connected to NFL players, it puts the league and media in a more precarious position to turn that microscope on NFL consumers.
It's an icky truth, but true all the same: ticket receipts and page views line pockets. And conversely, fan culture critique is a penny stock. An exercise in biting the hand that feeds you. But the actions of Felix Chavira, Juan Arias and Eric Martinez do not deserve the inevitable, common defenses: Bad apples, isolated incidents, victims of that killer cocktail of alcohol and heightened emotions.
No, this pack mentality goes beyond the parking lot. It goes beyond the Bay Area. The fan culture of violence, tribalism and false machismo is league-wide. And it threatens to undermine the sport; when a paraphrased debate asks "Do sports reflect fans or do fans reflect sports?", the danger incurred by stepping foot into a stadium — on either side of the field divide — raises a disturbing question: Can a carnal live football culture eat itself from within?
No statistics will do the problem justice. The Atlantic was touching on the problem in 2011 when a fight in — you guessed it — San Francisco inspired a brief national conversation. But predictably, outcry and column inches followed by inaction and convenient silence solved little. Prepared statements were read. Promises of due diligence were made. And fans kept fighting.
A look at Huffington Post's 'NFL Fan Violence' tag, though incomplete, provides a snapshot of fan-fighting since 2011. Cardinals and 49ers fans tussled in Glendale. A trio of Chargers faithful teamed up on a lone Broncos fan. A fight between Jets and Patriots enthusiasts culminated in a man punching a woman in the face. A teenager sustained injuries in yet another San Fran fight. A Jets fan suffered a beating laced with 9/11 taunts. The list, like the NFL news cycle, goes ever on. An endless echo of YouTube videos, followed by statements like the one the 49ers issued after Monday's incident:
“We are steadfast in our commitment to fostering a safe and enjoyable environment at Levi’s Stadium for all visitors and remind fans that behavior like this will not be tolerated.”
That beautiful lip service just grazes the tip of the iceberg. Only the most egregious acts — or the ones caught on camera — steal a few seconds of attention in the NFL media machine and require team-sponsored contrition. And even though baseball has seen its own horrific incidents, the fighting culture at football stadiums suffers no American rivals. According to a 2013 investigation by KIRO-TV in Seattle, law enforcement helped NFL teams keep multitudes of in-stadium crimes on the down low. A particularly damning passage:
So far, investigative reporter Chris Halsne has reviewed about 10,000 incidents over two-and-a half seasons.
Hundreds of felony-level crime arrests appear in the reports; including, rape, kidnapping, lynching, theft, drug dealing, child sexual abuse and aggravated assault of police officers. Thousands more cases of misdemeanor and citable offenses like public intoxication, simple assault, exposure and scalping also show up in the reports reviewed.
Police records show Seahawks fans have logged at least 25 assault cases at CenturyLink since the 2010 season. However, that number is likely higher because a comprehensive study of the reports also shows crimes inside most NFL stadiums are being grossly underreported.
In a single season, KIRO-TV reported, the 49ers documented 3,415 incidents — this tally included 201 fights and 23 felony arrests. That's more than 25 fights per home game.
Anecdotally, speaking with fans, you learn that boorish fan behavior comes with the ticket. Rarely can fans travel from parking lot to turnstile to seat without witnessing overgrown children threatening fisticuffs. It's not an exception; it's the rule. A rule that deters family-focused fans.
A rule even players recognize. "When I came into the league in 2003, I was warned by veteran teammates to tell all of my family and friends to wear neutral colors to road games in order to deflect unnecessary attention that might cause them to be harassed," Akbar Gbajabiamila wrote for NFL.com in 2012.
A reality that underscores what then-CBS Sports columnist Gregg Doyel wrote regarding fan violence this time last season: "The true danger is us. We are the thugs, and we are everywhere."
That might be hyperbole. On the heels of yesterday's Frontline PBS report, the dangers on the football field should not be diminished. But beyond the field, a dangerous culture festers and largely festers untouched. And it'd be naive to say the NFL has no culpability. The main instigators of violence — binge drinking, tribalistic team loyalty, glorified 'tough guy' machismo — are all implied and encouraged as part and parcel of the NFL game, wrapped nicely into the imagery of NFL Films, Hard Knocks and beer commercials.
And as you listen to league and team issued neatly-packaged, PR-friendly statements to the contrary, know this: For now, football profits from the us vs. them mentality. Bitter rivalries brew drama, intrigue and storylines. In a league increasingly conducting itself as if it has WWE scriptwriters, conflating on-field conflict with off-field fandom remains the surest way (beyond fantasy football) to keep fans engaged. As fans, we want to believe we matter, that we're part of the team. There's a reason that, at one point, the Seahawks' 12s jerseys climbed as high as the top 10 in overall NFL jersey sales.
But the live NFL experience is devolving. Attendance levels last year reached their lowest level since 1998 as at-home viewing becomes so streamlined and at-stadium viewing becomes so expensive and family unfriendly. And if the NFL does nothing now to quell the violence, or worse, continues its tradition of putting superficial Band-Aids on football's festering wounds, where does that trend lead?
Likely at the nexus of the NFL business model: Entertainment, at a cost.
Financially, football can survive without gaudy gate receipts. But what, then, does football become? A television and second-screen experience, through which we view these venues of violence and stories from afar? A scene straight from Seneca's description of the Coliseum's Gladiator Games?
In the morning, men are thrown to lions and bears. At mid-day they are thrown to the spectators themselves. No sooner has a man killed, than they shout for him to kill another, or to be killed. The final victor is kept for some other slaughter. In the end, every fighter dies. And all this goes on while the arena is half empty.
That, too, is hyperbole — but also a tale as old as time. Violent atmospheres beget violence. And as long as the NFL sells itself as a man's man league, as a battleground, as a setting wherein scores are settled through faceless physicality, Monday Night Football will probably beget Monday night fighting. And per usual, many great facets of America's greatest game will become clouded in moral qualms.
And we'll keep watching. That's the gift and the curse of millennial-age morality: We can document the NFL's problems once hidden in the shadows; we can publicly voice our outrage; then it's Sunday, and if not at the stadium, we possess several screens with which we can keep feeding the beast we love, enraptured in the Stockholm Syndrome that occurs when the game's romanticism grabs you before reality bites.
All within the comfort of home. Pain free. The bystander effect now a second-screen experience.
