I’m not against crying. In fact, a sucker for the underdog and a tireless enthusiast for right over wrong…good over evil, I’m a bit of crier myself. Sports is not exempt from that.
I cry every time Ray Kinsella has a catch with his dad in “Field of Dreams,” when Herb Brooks delivers the speech in “Miracle,” when the crowd goes nuts in “Rudy" (even thought the movie took a lot of liberties with the truth). “We Are Marshall” - “Hoosiers” – “Pride of the Yankees” – heck “Teen Wolf” (I told you I was a crier). I welled up with tears of joy and cathartic release when the Crew won the 2008 Wild Card, when Nyjer Morgan delivered the 2011 NLDS title to the Brewers, when the Pack won Super Bowls XXXI and XLV.
Crying doesn’t make a guy an Anthony Weiner…unless by “a guy,” you mean a Chinese fan who had the chance to gaze upon the greatness that is Kobe Bryant: