Last week’s Anthony Precourt praising blog post from Queen City War Pigs led to an army of simp FCC fans unwittingly revealing themselves. A clown car full of orange and blue Cincinnati apologists falling out of their tiny doors with the stale musk of Crew Cat and faux brotherhood. By this point in time Cincinnati and Columbus should have settled into a nice rivalry, but one perfect article was enough to show the sad underbelly of Ohio fandom. Nearly two years after the Crew were saved there are far too many treating them as if they weren’t.

Last season I spent five months impersonating a die hard Crew fan on Twitter then burning an FCC jersey as said fan. After revealing myself as the True source of the account and kit burning many Cincinnati fans recoiled, while angry Columbus supporters had to reconcile the bait and switch after believing it wholeheartedly. From my POV there is joy in the shenanigans and peace in the nonsense. This proved infectious for the open minded supporters who embraced what was ultimately harmless fun, but a faction also seemed hellbent on maintaining a genial relationship with no real sting.

For some reason we seem to set aside our “rivalry” just to coddle this twenty four year old hard hat wearing baby, still suckling the teat of our fatalist fanbase. I promise it’s okay now, the bad man is gone; off to a new city that seems to actually have passion for the sport. A new stadium is behind schedule but will surely be completed at some point. They have ‘D2 Coach Gordon Bombay when the sponsorships went to his head’ Caleb Porter as manager. A man who projects the air of a sentient anus dressed in suits who can yell at refs. Their results are positive and they’re doing just fine without your feet washing and sad attempts to distance yourself from those who actually want a rivalry to exist.

The Crew fans got everything they ever wanted but still we must protect them? I’m convinced that FCC supporters' top rival is their own team. Histrionic post game analysis, brain busting player takes, insatiable longing for the old days and on and on. Forget going after the team that embarrassed you at home last season, who celebrated on the field post game and mocked you in interviews. No no, they are part of our soccer FAMILY! We must stand in awe of their historic high school bleacher stadium, their longhaired lush spokesman who drunkenly denigrated our employees, their new owner who is ten times shadier than the last, and the sheer fact that there was a team in Ohio before us. Praise be!

They don’t need your protection from the very few people making Hell Is Real something worthwhile. They don’t need you to come to their defense online and cry out “NO! PRECOURT WAS BAD!” No fucking shit. But he’s not a fool. The man simply moved to greener pastures, realizing like most of us that Columbus is merely a place you make a stop in but never stay. I'm guessing the ones who don’t understand it aren’t from Cincinnati at all. How should I know how people from Goshen, Batavia, Lebanon, Cleves, Liberty Township, Zanesville, Morrow, Madeira, Mason or any of these places I can’t find on a map feel? Is that why they don't hate Columbus the way I do? Could HELL IS REAL be civic pride cosplay for those with one foot still in the farm? A family reunion for Carpet bagging co-opters who feel as at home on yellow aluminum as they do on UC seatbacks. 

There’s a reason the Hell Is Real sign is halfway between the two cities, as this rivalry remains stuck in some bizarre version of purgatory. I lit my own team's jersey on fire and somehow they are still more embarrassing. If you want to feel the yellow and blue kumbaya for all eternity, that’s a choice you can make. I’ll still implore you to take a true stand, if only for the sake of fun. Take the gloves off and act like Djiby is watching you. 


He always is.