The State of the Indiana Pacers Fan Base

Just like the Indiana Pacers, 8p9s is in training camp mode. Over the next few weeks, we will be welcoming some new contributors. Some will make the team and some will just get a nice workout.

Today’s entry is from Chuck Summers is an English teacher and Wabash College alum who attended both the last game at Market Square and Reggie Miller’s final game in the NBA.

If you would like to try out for 8p9s, email 8pts9secs@gmail.com.

For those of us Indiana Pacers fans who had survived the soul-crushing and joy-free Jim O’Brien era, who kept paying money to watch the likes of Travis Diener and T.J. Ford in person, the first five months of last season were an evangelical big tent revival.

The Pacers were the best team in the league. They were a tough, gritty, defensive-minded team that played with a chestiness and swagger that reflected the mentality of post-Super Bowl Indianapolis and a new generation of Hoosiers who have only understood Naptown as a term of endearment.

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Going to Pacers games felt like going to Pacers games again. Gone were swaths of empty seats and the glazed over facial expressions that befitted a time-share presentation more than a professional basketball game. And the gimmicks that once seemed desperate — the drum line, Area 55 — now added a unique touch to an exciting and almost criminally affordable fan experience. Heading into the All-Star break, Pacers die-hards felt like Andy Dufresne: We had crawled through a river of unimaginable foulness and came out clean on the other side.

When we cheered, we weren’t just celebrating another win. We were purging. The frustration of lost seasons and busted draft picks — the humiliation of watching Chicago Bulls fans fill the Fieldhouse during playoff games, the heartbreak at the hands of the Miami Heat — were being exorcized as the Pacers marched toward another showdown with the villainous Big Three.

Then the bottom fell out.

The Indiana Pacers’ unprecedented collapse in the second half of the season put its fans — many of whom had just recommitted to the team for the first time since the Malice in the Palace — in one of the strangest and most painful positions since “the rack” fell out of favor across the pond. Since they had played so well during the first part of the season, the hope of a return to form was enough to lure us in game after game. And each time we committed, each time we tuned in, if for no other reason than to avoid the dubious distinction of fair-weather fans, we were rewarded with basketball so disjointed and visually repulsive, it’s a surprise that Banker’s Life didn’t start handing out barf bags in lieu of thunder sticks.

It was about as ugly off the court: Paul George’s paternity fiasco, the shots taken at each other through the media, the whining and twitter campaigning. This from a team that was sold on toughness and togetherness, as “built not bought.” The buyer’s remorse could be seen, or heard, rather, no more clearly than in the Atlanta Hawks’ second-half napalming of the Pacers in Game 5 of their much-more-competitive-than-it-ever-should-have-been playoff series. That is the sound of a fan base that feels not just disappointed but betrayed (unless you are in Philadelphia, in which case it is just the sound of a fan base).

So before the Indiana Pacers even entered this Crimean dumpster fire of an offseason, the relationship between the franchise and its snake-bitten fan base was precarious at best. And while the loss of human highlight reel, budding young rap god, and future Dancing With the Stars champion Lance Stephenson was disappointing, the loss of Paul George was absolutely crushing. So much so that at media day, typically a bacchanalia of preseason optimism, the Pacers players themselves were publicly coming to terms with the stark realities of the upcoming year. So what does this mean for the fan base? Will this season mark a return to the begrudging apathy of the mid-to-late aughts?

The short answer is no — at least not at first.

From a psychological standpoint, the gruesomeness of George’s injury will distract fans from a lot of the anger they felt at the end of last year. It’s like forgetting your girlfriend’s birthday and then getting into a car accident the next day. You’re not off the hook, but you at least have a little grace period while you heal up.

So as long as PG is being a visible part of the team and community, rehabbing, and not sending tweets about domestic violence that include phrases like “LOL,” the fans will have a symbol to rally around. He will at the very least avoid getting booed, which is actually an improvement from some of the final games of last season.

The drastically lowered expectations could give Frank Vogel room for some experimentation, as well — something he has been just a wee bit stubborn about. With the addition of shooters like C.J. Miles and Damjan Rudez, the freeing of Chris Copeland from the bench, and the increased role of guys like Lavoy Allen and Solomon Hill, Vogel has some interesting pieces to work with. And while none of these potential lineups will necessarily be good, “interesting” might be enough to tide fans over.

Then there is still going to be some emotional investment in one-time fan favorites George Hill and Roy Hibbert, assuming he stops air balling hook shots from three feet out. The loss of PG and Born Ready leaves quite a few points to fill (about 36, in fact), which could give Hill and Hibbert some space to regain confidence in their offense games. And the better they are playing, the more likely they are to stop sulking after games and go back to making Game of Thrones References and telling outlandish, horse-related stories.

The goofier those two are, the more likely the fans are to overlook the fact George Hill is probably a sixth man in a starting point guard’s income tax bracket and that, while the story about Roy Hibbert’s inability to do one pushup as a freshman in college can certainly be seen as a testament to his determination, it is also a story that you never want to be true when its about your team’s starting center.

We also have David West, who has made an indelible mark on the fan base in a short amount of time with his work ethic, professionalism, and the greatest game face since the Little Giants’ Jake Berman. I know that emotional investment doesn’t carry much weight at the ticket office, even for a fan base that tends to get a little romantic about this sport, but it’s more than we ever had for Troy Murphy and Marquis Daniels.

Bottom line: the Pacers’ fan base has not gone full Kerouac — not yet. But the tipping point is probably near, and may be unavoidable. The best outcome, logically, is that the Pacers lose a ton of games and earn a top-level draft pick. But Indiana Pacers fans, while passionate, are not always logical, and may only buy in to a scrappy underdog who claws for the right to get swiftly eliminated by Cleveland or Chicago.

So for those of us who are going to show up and tune in anyways, getting reacquainted with barren Banker’s Life sections and the questioning of life choices during West Coast broadcasts is most likely in order. But, like a Jamaal Tinsley offseason diet program, it should also be short-lived.

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