Let's hear it for the underdogs

“The thing I like about the NCAA College Basketball Tournament is that any team can win it all.”

I was explaining to my wife why I was standing in front of the TV, eyes glued to the NCAA Tournament and not sitting in my usual place with her watching the evening news. The truth is, although I have a few favorite teams, my main attraction to March Madness is in anticipating the little guys, the Lehighs, the Virginia Commonwealths, and the Norfolk States taking down the big boys, the Dukes, the Michigans, and the Missouris.

But why? Why do I and so many others pull for the underdog? Is it just because we want to see the mighty fall?

There’s more to it than that.

Certainly, the thrill of the unexpected is part of it; it is exciting to see the number one seed go down. But when you start thinking about the psychology of why we choose to cheer for the underdog, it gets complicated.

The underdog brings out contradictions. A part of us hopes the underdog will win. Maybe we have an inherent desire for social equality, for the haves to know what it’s like to be a have not, for the privileged to trade places with the underprivileged, for the aristocracy to experience the common life.

On the other hand, we like to see talent and effort rewarded. We like to think that if we try hard and take the more difficult courses, we will be compensated accordingly. After all, there is a reason why underdogs are the underdogs: Based on prior performance and level of competition, they are not expected to beat their more successful and sometimes more disciplined opponents.

And to further complicate what’s going on in our minds when we support the underdog, think about this: The less attached we are to a team, the more likely we are to root for the opposing underdog. It’s okay for the underdog to upset a team we are neutral towards or don’t like. But we don’t want our team to be a victim of the upstart. When I heard that Norfolk State had surprised Missouri, I smiled. But when South Dakota State shot ahead of Baylor, my alma mater, early in their first round game, I wanted absolutely no part of an upset.

The narrative of the underdog has deep cross cultural roots in our history. From David and Goliath to Robert the Bruce to Rocky Balboa to the Arab Spring, the underdog is a constant player in our communal psyche. We can relate because we have felt like the underdog, and when we are down, the fantasy of overcoming engenders hope for us to rise from the ashes.

But, while we find inspiration in those stories of the long shot winning against all odds, our sympathy for the underdog is fickle. Scott Allison, professor of psychology at the University of Richmond, cites what he calls the “Wal-Mart effect.” We root for our small town store when the dominating corporation moves in, but when it comes to the best buy on our television, we opt for the cheaper price at the powerful chain store. He concludes that our affinity for the lesser team is “a mile wide and an inch deep.”

We are, at least to a degree, motivated by our own self interest, are we not?

So I’ll cheer for the underdogs until they play my alma mater or step on the court against the favorite team of the folks I would have to console come Sunday morning should their team lose, the fans who because of their team’s loss may not listen to the sermon, or may, in rehearsing the nightmare of their defeat, forget that the offering plate was passed, after all.

So let’s hear it for the underdogs!

As long they aren’t playing the teams we like.