FAYETTEVILLE — Some of Arkansas' most fervent, though not necessarily rational, Razorback fans are pumping themselves up for the Big Game.
They're firming up their arguments. They're sharpening their barbs. They're looking for any and every sign of weakness in their opponent.
Unfortunately, their opponent is Hogs' basketball coach John Pelphrey, and the Big Game is a contest to see how loud they can cry about what they view as the tepid condition of Arkansas Razorback basketball.
Don't get me wrong. I love the vigor with which Arkansas fans get involved in supporting the team. I've been in Razorback territory all but four years of my life, and those four years were spent in Texas. Living there only served to strengthen my desire for the Razorbacks to win.
I appreciate the fan enthusiasm, but I hang my head when I hear a so-called fan at Bud Walton Arena screaming "You're an idiot, Pelphrey" after the head coach makes a personnel change on the court.
Sadly, the guy who screamed that probably counts himself as the state's biggest Razorback fan. He probably prides himself on how much he knows about the players. He reads all the recruiting information with slobbery excitement about the possibilities, letting himself get worked into a frenzy over a decision by some 18-year-old kid who knows how to penetrate the paint.
One of the reasons we're so passionate about sports is because we know, when it's all said and done, that it's not life and death.
When the game's over, it won't determine whether someone spends the rest of his life in prison, or gets that brand new job that saves a family from a burden of debt.
The world of sports remains something we can debate and discuss and have our own opinions about, but worst-case scenario is that someone goes home a winner and someone goes home a loser.
Heck, didn't we know that was going to happen before the ball was kicked or tipped? Is that worth disparaging a man's character or questioning his integrity?
For some, however, that sense of perspective gets lost. Whether it's in high school ranks, college or the pros, some fans use the good fortune or misfortunes of the local team as a substitute for what should be meaningful in their lives.
They begin the game with a seemingly friendly "Let's go, Hogs," but as the game progresses, it becomes clear that this season ticket-holder firmly believes he's got more leadership and coaching capabilities than the man who earned the coaching job through action rather than words.
Those seated around this guy -- we'll call him SuperFan -- have paid for their tickets, too, but they get the added value of hearing intense negativity that SuperFan clearly considers support for the team. Most of SuperFan's seatmates just wish the air gun they use at games to shoot T-shirts into the crowd would fire one squarely into SuperFan's mouth, muffling him for the duration of the game.
SuperFan is the guy posting to blogs and calling radio talk shows to keep the pot continuously stirred up. He knows what this program needs, and seems most comfortable when he's reached the conclusion that it's a coaching change. He writes that although he hopes he's wrong, he just doesn't see how the Razorbacks can reclaim the glory of its National Championship days under the current coach.
What I wish SuperFan realized is that being a fan means supporting the team that's on the floor, not some mythical squad of players and coaches we dream up in our heads. The team that needs our backing needs it even more during times of adversity, which is when SuperFan is so eager to bail.
In the end, I wish every fan would accept the notion that if he can't say anything nice, he ought to just say "Go, Hogs."
Greg Harton is local editor of the Northwest Arkansas Times.