Lucky him? Most fans would say yes.
I love sports and take sides, often rabidly. Watching Roger Federer get beaten in the 2009 US Open made me feel sick. So did the Yankee loss on Monday night.
Or, my bleacher of choice can be a chair or a bed in front of the TV.
Of course the cameras control what I can see. They decide how often I will watch Chase Utley, the current Philadelphia Home Run King, lean back in his dugout, hair slicked back, face thickly handsome, as happy as a lion who has just made a kill. Better to submit to a camera’s gaze than to a huge scoreboard pounding at me and exhorting me to scream and cheer when my team does well, and to follow the bouncing ads.
Whatever the exact site of a bleacher of my own, let me shout at my own pace, despair at my own pace, pound the glove of my soul at my own pace, pray at my own pace.
The real test of the fan is not how we behave in the crowd but how we behave when we have no witnesses to our fierce loyalties.
Go, Yankees. And Roger Federer, return in all your glory.