SPORTS RITUALSRituals and sports go hand-in-hand. Perhaps it’s the illusion of control. Perhaps it’s comfort provided by repetition. Perhaps it’s participating in anything with a mass of other people, which taps us into something bigger than ourselves.

This series will examine the backstories behind the sports rituals we take for granted, from the Gatorade dunk to the rally cap to the “Potvin sucks!” chant. Along the way, it will delve into the backstories of the people, places, and eras out of which these rituals came.

THE GATORADE

DUNKThe dunk was created by The New York Giants of the 1980s. Coach Bill Parcells believed to get the most out of players, he had to make them uncomfortable. He found the perfect target in nose tackle Jim Burt, who responded to Parcells with increasing effort and intensity. The two had a “love-hate” relationship: Burt loved to hate Parcells, knowing the coach got the most out of him.

After one Giants victory, Burt dumped the Gatorade bucket on Parcells. The next year, 1986, it became tradition after EVERY win, linebacker Harry Carson doused Parcells. It was a weekly occurrence owed to Parcells’s borderline OCD superstition.

What makes our telling most interesting is the nuanced character treatment of the people involved: Parcells, one of the greatest coaches in history, and Burt, a beloved former Giant. Parcells considered himself a master psychologist, but for all his ball-busting, his sense of humor got players on his side. And of course, all of this culminated in the 1986 Super Bowl.

RALLY CAPS

It’s debatable when rally caps in baseball first started, but they gained widespread fame with the Mets in 1985 and then again in 1986, their championship season.

The rally caps are vintage ‘80s Mets: Exuberant, brash, goofy, completely un-self-aware, and, ultimately, successful. Some context on these attributes of the era, and the team, would make this pop.

The story here can delve into superstition in baseball. It’s significant that for players on a team, much of their time “playing” the sport consists of sitting next to each other in the dugout and praying for their teammate to perform well.

“POTVIN SUCKS”

MSG CHANTOf course it was New York that made a tradition out of saying that someone sucks: In this case, former Islander Denis Potvin, who was accused of injuring a Rangers player. The tradition endures to this day, nearly 30 years after Potvin retired. Rangers fans chant it whenever the team does something good, like clear the puck during an opposing team’s power play.

There is an interesting commentary here on sports as a receptacle for free-floating hostility.

THE DE-FENSE

CHANTThe “De-fense” chant was started by New York Giants fans at Yankee Stadium in the 1950s. This changed the pronunciation of the word “defense” when applied to the context of sports: Until this chant, the emphasis was on “fence,” as in “Defense department.”

The Giants were the first team to treat defense seriously. Prior to that, it was an afterthought, with most sports observers focusing on the success or failure of offense. This alone was a revolutionary paradigm shift.

The ‘50s Giants held a special place in NYC’s heart and was instrumental to the rise of the NFL, which until then had been an afterthought. The defense — Sam Huff, Andy Robustelli, Rosie Greer — became popular personas reflecting the gracious, establishment, stodgy ethos of New York.

BLEACHER CREATURES

The “Bleacher Creatures” at Yankee games chant every player’s name until they acknowledge them.

The beauty of this ritual is the innate honor of having the New York fans call out your name. If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere.

THE “SLAPSHOT”

CURSESome say that the “Slapshot” song they play after the Rangers score a goal is cursed because it originated in 1995, the year after the Rangers won the Stanley Cup, and they haven’t won since. Despite the fact that it’s a comically awful song, it is beloved. It’s a vintage ‘90s song, giving the whole thing a period piece feel.

STORMING THE FIELD

This is more of a defunct ritual, and it’s not unique to NYC sports, but it’s insane that fans in pro sports used to do this all the time. Watch clips of the final out of the ’77 World Series in Yankee Stadium: Reggie Jackson isn’t celebrating on the field, but literally running for his life as he barrels through people on a beeline to the clubhouse.