After [Adam] Dunn ended an 0-for-19 skid yesterday with a fourth-inning single off of the Royals’ Jeff Francis, something odd happened. The response to the unexpected result was amused surprise (especially since it was only his second hit off a lefty all year), which then grew to an ovation as many rose to their feet.
It seemed utterly sarcastic at first, but then it changed. I can’t tell you exactly when or how, and it’s tougher to determine since my interpretation is influenced by the way TV presents such things, but there was a perceptible drift away from “At least you didn’t strike out, you big idiot” and toward “Come on, big fella, hang in there!”
Dunn’s response was telling, and significant. Standing at first base, he removed his helmet and waved to the crowd, directly acknowledging them. It seemed genuine, and not the kind of thing you’d do defiantly if you thought you were being mocked.
If this has happened before with an expensive, struggling player on the south side, I can’t remember it.
I can recall countless cases of full-throated exasperation, and a Bronx cheer to match almost every real one. But this is new, strange, and not altogether unpleasant.
The subsequent outpouring after Dunn’s game-flipping two-run homer in the eighth confirmed what was occurring – there was a temporary, powerful sense of ownership created by the earlier moment, with last night’s crowd uniquely invested in his performance. They stood behind him, he made sure to let them know he was aware of it, and the fan/player connection seemed to exist more so than ever, at least for a day.
[…]
“The thing about the fans, they boo and stuff because they want to see the team and me personally do so well,” Dunn said. “That’s how I’ve been looking at it. It makes it more special when they cheer like that.”
-Dan Bernstein
After [Adam] Dunn ended an 0-for-19 skid yesterday with a fourth-inning single off of the Royals’ Jeff Francis, something odd happened. The response to the unexpected result was amused surprise (especially since it was only his second hit off a lefty all year), which then grew to an ovation as many rose to their feet.

It seemed utterly sarcastic at first, but then it changed. I can’t tell you exactly when or how, and it’s tougher to determine since my interpretation is influenced by the way TV presents such things, but there was a perceptible drift away from “At least you didn’t strike out, you big idiot” and toward “Come on, big fella, hang in there!”

Dunn’s response was telling, and significant. Standing at first base, he removed his helmet and waved to the crowd, directly acknowledging them. It seemed genuine, and not the kind of thing you’d do defiantly if you thought you were being mocked.

If this has happened before with an expensive, struggling player on the south side, I can’t remember it.

I can recall countless cases of full-throated exasperation, and a Bronx cheer to match almost every real one. But this is new, strange, and not altogether unpleasant.

The subsequent outpouring after Dunn’s game-flipping two-run homer in the eighth confirmed what was occurring – there was a temporary, powerful sense of ownership created by the earlier moment, with last night’s crowd uniquely invested in his performance. They stood behind him, he made sure to let them know he was aware of it, and the fan/player connection seemed to exist more so than ever, at least for a day.

[…]

“The thing about the fans, they boo and stuff because they want to see the team and me personally do so well,” Dunn said. “That’s how I’ve been looking at it. It makes it more special when they cheer like that.”

-Dan Bernstein

» posted 11 months ago with 139 notes