The Realist: This fan sees things exactly the way they are. He knows the playoffs are a dream, going .500 is a reach, and that four to six wins is almost guaranteed. He roots for the team in a very clinical fashion, not getting too high or too low. Tunes in to the game most weeks, but rarely labors through for the entire three and a half hours. Understands that the NFL is a quarterback-driven league, and that this fact is harmful to the Lions’ cause. Goes to one game every few years when he is offered free tickets. And even then, it’s more for the free walking buffet that takes place prior to kickoff, replete with Yukon golds and that one silver tray with the blue candle underneath, and nothing but boiling water inside. A staple of any respectable buffet.
The Homer: This is a close relative of the “Delusional Lions Fan,” which we will get to later. The Homer knows deep down how the story is going to end, but by golly, he’s going to give it all he’s got from 1-4 p.m. every Sunday. This fan begins each week by sizing up the opponent, say the Green Bay Packers. While he knows the 11-2 Packers are heavy favorites over his 4-9 Lions, by the weekend rolls around, he’s got himself convinced that Aaron Rodgers is overrated and that Lambeau Field is an easy place to win (have not won there since 1991). The Homer goes to 80% of home games and even makes one road trip per season. Can be seen wearing one of two jerseys: a Spielman #54, or Sanders #20. On a rare occasion, you’ll see a Batch #10, but that just means he got it for $3 off the clearance rack at TJ’s and doesn’t want to shell out $100+ for a new one. Won’t miss a wedding or birth of a child for a game, but will skip a medium-level family event like a graduation party without hesitation.
The “Ford Family” Guy: Maybe the most bitter of all fans. The “Ford Family” Guy refuses to root for the Lions until the Ford family gives up ownership. He believes the auto magnate has no real interest in dramatically improving the team and remains satisfied simply filling up his stadium each week and raking in an endless stream of dollars from the NFL television contract. Will not attend a game at Ford Field, and hasn’t worn any Lions gear since the mid '70s. Mainly watches the third and fourth quarters; shrugs off this perceived interest with the salty refrain, “I just want to see how they blow it this week.”
The Tailgater: Lives for those eight home game Sundays a year. Has season tickets and attends every game, but his real passion takes place at nine in the morning up until kickoff. The tailgate feast is where this fan leaves his mark. He brings his own portable mini-grill, several bags of chips, and enough adult beverages to make W.C. Fields blush. Does not own Lions clothing, but shows his allegiance with a silver-and-blue painted chest regardless of the month or season. The Tailgater generally makes way too much food and offers one of his overdone dogs or kielbasas to the first stranger that walks by. Favorite Lions player is “Suh.” (He gave up trying to pronounce the first name two years ago.)
The Root-Against Guy: A native Detroiter and serious Lions fan throughout his youth, this guy was finally worn down by the endless parade of crushing defeats and draft-day mishaps. Now he enjoys his Sundays rooting with spirit for whoever opposes his once-beloved Leos. Takes great pleasure in watching the home team lose, and does not try to hide this fact. Mocks his buddies that continue to live and die with the franchise. Favorite sports moment is Ty Detmer tossing seven interceptions in a humiliating loss to Cleveland in 2001. Will join you at Ford Field if you beg him, but everyone knows he’s doing it for the “two on one, well done fries” that you promised him for the post-game meal.
The Delusional: Despite the extreme nature of this particular fan, it is also one of the most common Lions’ species. The Delusional could be described as simply being optimistic, but it goes deeper than that. This devoted follower insists that each season will culminate with a Super Bowl, despite the franchise never appearing in a single one. He still believes Joey Harrington was a franchise quarterback; never mind the frequent turnovers and right arm that resembled a swimming pool noodle. Hasn’t missed a home game in 20 years. Worries months ahead about missing a close friend’s wedding that would potentially take place on the same night of a Lions home playoff game (keep in mind, Ford Field is one of only two current NFL stadiums (Browns) never to have played host to a postseason affair). Loses his voice every game. Has “lucky” clothing that will surely contribute to team success, despite decades of history suggesting otherwise. When asked for a favorite author/writer spanning centuries of literature, answers boldly, “Mike O’Hara.”
