On an unconventional Friday in November, the streets of Chicago were packed elbow to elbow and buzzing with excitement. Millions of people were helping each other climb the sides of train tunnels, telephone poles and even the Art Institute’s lion statues, all in order to get a better view over the seemingly endless crowd. I ran down Michigan Avenue high-fiving strangers and screaming, “Hey Chicago, what do you say?” until my throat was hoarse and exhausted. I was hoisted into the air in the middle of Jackson Boulevard to fly my “W” flag over the heads of bucket drummers and exhilarated fans.

This was Nov. 4, when a large portion of Glenbrook North students missed school and ventured to Chicago for the Cubs World Series parade. We were surrounded by approximately 5 million Cubs fans from across the country, some of whom proudly followed the Cubs when they lost upwards of 100 games per season and some who found their loyalty somewhere between the 2016 National League Championship Series and the 2016 World Series. More recent fans like myself are typically labeled as bandwagoners. However, these fans all had one thing in common: being unified from the victory.  

My favorite part about celebrating with strangers was that they had no way of knowing I had only been a Cubs fan for the last two and a half weeks. I was able to enjoy the hype without people constantly evaluating the “legitimacy” of my enthusiasm.

When I wore a Cubs hat to school the day after Game 7 of the World Series, I was met with comments such as, “How long have you been a Cubs fan?” and “I bet you can’t even name three players.”

I know I’m a bandwagon fan. I personally enjoy a team’s win because the resulting excitement gives fans—old and new—an opportunity to participate in the festivities and celebrate success.

By hopping on the bandwagon, fans are joining in on the fun. We’re only making the cheers louder, the crowds bigger and the streets rowdier, which shouldn’t be seen negatively. It’s not beneficial for you to stifle the joy of experiencing a win by asserting yourself as a more deserving fan than someone else.

Unless you’re the Ricketts family, you don’t own the Cubs (well, 95 percent of the Cubs), which means you don’t have the right to determine who’s allowed to be a fan.

If I’m cheering for the Cubs, Blackhawks, Bears or anyone else, and you’re cheering for them as well, all of our lives would be less complicated if you embraced the increase in support.

When your favorite team starts losing again, bandwagoners will hop off, and you’ll be no better or worse off without them than you were before.  

Does differentiating the “real” fans from a crowd of cheering, singing, celebrating fans packed onto a street corner really affect the magnitude of your favorite team’s victory?

If it does, then congratulations. You are a sore winner.