I’ve been reading up on mental health topics for some time now and have come across many articles about the connection between being a sports fan and mental health in the last few weeks including this one on Psychology Today’s Blog and this one from Neuro Launch which have inspired me to share my thoughts on the topic as a fan of the Chicago Cubs and Chicago Bulls.
Being a fan of the Chicago Cubs and the Chicago Bulls is an emotional rollercoaster that shapes identity, community, and resilience in ways that extend beyond the games themselves. The psychology of sports fandom, as explored in many articles on Psychology Today and Neuro Launch, sheds light on how fans navigate wins, losses, and the unpredictable nature of professional sports. For Cubs and Bulls fans, this dynamic is particularly pronounced given the storied histories of both franchises, one marked by decades of heartbreak before a historic triumph, and the other by unprecedented dominance followed by years of inconsistency.
For Cubs fans, being loyal to the team often means embracing an identity shaped by patience and unwavering faith. For 108 years, generations of Cubs fans clung to the hope that one day their team would win it all. The “Lovable Losers” moniker became part of the Cubs’ culture, turning failure into a kind of badge of honor. This sense of shared struggle created an unbreakable bond between fans, who found solace in each other even when the team repeatedly fell short. The infamous “Curse of the Billy Goat” became not just a baseball superstition but a psychological anchor, providing a narrative that helped explain why the Cubs always seemed to come up short. It allowed fans to rationalize losses without abandoning their emotional investment in the team.
This dynamic aligns with psychological concepts like “Basking in Reflected Glory” (BIRGing) and “Cutting Off Reflected Failure” (CORFing). When the Cubs finally won the World Series in 2016, some lifelong fans felt a sense of personal accomplishment. Decades of devotion paid off in an emotional outpouring that swept across Chicago and beyond. The victory validated years of suffering, making every frustrating season worth it. But before that moment, fans developed coping mechanisms that allowed them to sustain their passion despite disappointment. Wrigley Field became a haven, a place where fans could escape life’s challenges and immerse themselves in the shared joy of baseball, regardless of the outcome on the field.
The Cubs’ championship run in 2016 was more than just a long-awaited victory. It was a massive psychological event for an entire fanbase. It provided closure to decades of near-misses and heartbreaks. Psychologists suggest that sports victories can trigger feelings similar to personal achievements, activating the brain’s reward centers. For Cubs fans, the championship became proof that loyalty and patience could eventually lead to success, reinforcing their psychological connection to the team. However, after reaching the mountaintop, a new challenge emerged: maintaining the same level of passion when the team was no longer the underdog. Some fans who had built their identity around the struggle found themselves grappling with a sense of loss, despite winning it all.
Bulls fans have experienced an entirely different psychological journey. Unlike Cubs fans, who spent generations waiting for a championship, Bulls fans—particularly those who followed the team in the 1990s—were accustomed to dominance. Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, and the rest of the Bulls dynasty made winning feel inevitable. Fans didn’t have to rationalize failure because failure was rarely an option. The psychological concept of BIRGing was on full display, as Bulls fans basked in the reflected glory of six championships in eight years. Being a Bulls fan during that era meant being part of a global basketball phenomenon. It elevated Chicago’s identity in the sports world and gave fans an unparalleled sense of pride.
But winning at such a high level also set up fans for an inevitable psychological crash. When Jordan retired for the second time in 1998, the Bulls immediately fell from their pedestal. The post-Jordan years tested the loyalty of fans in a way they hadn’t experienced before. Instead of celebrating championships, Bulls fans had to adjust to mediocrity, learning to find meaning in player development and small victories rather than titles. Some fans disengaged, while others adapted, proving that sports fandom is often about more than just wins and losses—it’s about the stories, the connections, and the hope that the team will rise again.
This shift mirrors psychological studies on expectations and disappointment. When fans get used to winning, losses feel more devastating. The Bulls’ decline was difficult to process because it meant redefining what it meant to be a Bulls fan. For some, the attachment waned, while for others, it deepened as they embraced the underdog mentality that had long defined Cubs fans. The psychological resilience required to remain invested in a struggling team is significant. Bulls fans who stuck with the team through the lean years demonstrated a commitment that extended beyond basketball itself. They weren’t just fans of a winning team; they were fans of the franchise, the city, and the memories that basketball had provided them over the years.
For both Cubs and Bulls fans, community plays a critical role in sustaining fandom through the highs and lows. Sports psychologists note that being part of a fanbase provides a sense of belonging, reducing feelings of isolation and enhancing social well-being. Whether it’s gathering at Wrigley Field or the United Center, discussing trades and draft picks, or reliving iconic moments, fans build relationships that transcend the game. These connections can be especially important during tough times, both for the team and in personal life. In a city as passionate about sports as Chicago, being a Cubs or Bulls fan isn’t just about watching games—it’s about being part of something bigger than oneself.
There’s also a psychological resilience that develops from supporting a team through thick and thin. Cubs fans who endured decades of disappointment built a mental toughness that extended beyond baseball. The ability to stay hopeful despite repeated setbacks is a skill that can apply to other aspects of life, from careers to personal relationships. Bulls fans, on the other hand, had to learn how to cope with shifting expectations, a challenge that mirrors real-life experiences where success isn’t always guaranteed. These psychological adaptations are part of what makes sports fandom so powerful—it teaches lessons in patience, hope, and perseverance.
However, psychologists also warn about the potential downsides of sports fandom. While being a fan can provide emotional highs and a sense of belonging, it can also lead to excessive emotional investment that negatively impacts mental well-being. For some, a team’s losses feel like personal failures, leading to stress, frustration, and even depression. The key, according to experts, is balance. Passionate fandom should enhance life, not consume it. Understanding that sports are unpredictable and that losses are inevitable can help fans maintain a healthy perspective.
Here’s the thing folks: The psychology of being a sports fan is a complex mix of identity, loyalty, resilience, and community. Whether it’s the historic struggles eventual triumph for teams like the Cubs or the dominance followed by years of inconsistency with the Bulls, fans have experienced the full spectrum of emotions. The way they process wins and losses, adapt to changing team fortunes, and find meaning in their fandom speaks to the deep psychological impact of sports.
With that… Being a fan is about more than just the game—it’s about the stories, the shared experiences, and the enduring hope that next season will bring something special. For Cubs and Bulls fans, that hope is what keeps them coming back, year after year, regardless of the outcome.
If you cannot play with them, then root for them!