Is it Okay to Criticise Your Own Team?

By Jasper Bruce

The following is an opinion piece and does not necessarily reflect the opinions of the USU or the Pulp editorial staff.

Well there we bloody go don’t we. They’ve done it again. I’ve been a Penrith Panthers supporter for most of my 21 years, and I’ve become quite accustomed to the unique ways they manage to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. But I have to say, conceding two tries in the final eight minutes of last Thursday’s game was one for the history books. And like Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons, “I was on the internet within minutes registering my disgust throughout the world” from the relative safety of the PointsBet Stadium grandstand.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no glory supporter. I’ve stuck with the Panthers through thick and thin. I don’t love them any less for their shortcomings. In fact, their ability to bounce back from mediocrity and defy the odds is often what endears me to them. Surely it’s only natural, though, that the equal and opposite reaction to my forcefully strong support is distaste for underperformance? Yeah, surely. Without thinking, I comment on the club’s Instagram post announcing the score.

“Mansour needs to go. Too many chances.”

A seemingly innocuous take on one player’s inability to stick to his position in defence. Some are quick to show their support. Others not so much.

“@sarcasper_bruce yea mate ur a real panthers fan good on ya” was one of the more intellectual responses. But it got me thinking - amongst sporting fan communities, is it socially acceptable to criticise your own team’s performance?

From a young age, we become acclimatised to the cushioned dogma of the sporting life. The Encouragement Award. “It’s just a game!”. “It’s nil all out there boys, we can still win”. It’s a bitter pill that sport is often a story told in black and white, and this pill is washed down with mantras that “there’s always next week” and that “it just didn’t go our way”. When repeated each Saturday for entire childhoods, it’s perhaps inevitable that it becomes difficult to shake such blind faith in adulthood.

Amongst sporting fan bases, it’s as if a fan’s legitimacy (for want of a better word, fanliness), is measured by their ability to shut out any kind of criticism for the team. To remain positive through the winless streaks and refuse to acknowledge the damning implications of the losses. In Panther Pride, a Facebook group of 10,000 odd Panthers fans (I highly recommend it), members are quick to throw support behind unflinching positivity, and even quicker to shun those who won’t get on board with this attitude.

Profound stuff. Fan communities would apparently rather passive members than discerning ones.

After all, at the end of the day sport is tribal (mate vs. mate, state vs. state etc. etc.). Nothing in our modern cultural fabric comes quite as close to archaic gladiatorial combat, or our primal obsession with male physical prowess. And like any tribe, the weakest members, those who go against the grain, are shamed for their differing views, especially when they call the tribe as a whole into question.

So maybe it’s not surprising that fans don’t often publicly criticise their own team’s performance, and when they do, it’s met with disdain from other fans. I suppose it’s nice that die hard footy fans are so willing to see the silver try-lining.