When I was in the 8th grade, like many other kids my age, I took the bus to school. To say I hated doing such with the undying passion of a thousand burning suns would somehow be an understatement. To make matters worse, I had to stand at the bus stop with people I didn’t like. One guy in particular really bothered me.
Brian and I never got along, mostly because I thought he was an ass, and he disagreed. He would pick on me because I was the fat kid who will still new to the area. I would talk back and put him down, but he didn’t stop. One day, he thought it would be funny to sneak up behind me and flick the back of my ear, because apparently without my knowledge it had turned into 1957. That one morning, he just wouldn’t stop doing it, so I did the only thing that made sense:
I punched him in his face.
He never bothered me again.
To think of the late 90s as a “simpler” time doesn’t really feel necessary, but compared to the complex world we live in today, it’s an apt description. All the way back in 1998, you could go days without using the computer. These days try going a few hours without checking your phone for Facebook, Twitter, posting to Instagram, pinning recipes on Pinterest or checking into somewhere on Four Square. We experience everything together, as we all post our unfiltered emotions for the world (at least the world that we choose to acknowledge digitally) to see.
And that’s the problem.
On Wednesday, Reds Assistant Director of Media Relations Jamie Ramsey had an altercation with a “fan” (if you can call him that) on Twitter over – what else – the Reds. Ramsey was getting heckled online by something as old as the internet itself: a troll.
For those of you not familiar with Internet Lingo, a “troll” is someone online whose only goal is to rile up someone else, either by being difficult, a contrarian or abusive. This man was the latter.
To be fair, what Ramsey did was out of line. It’s never a good idea to threaten anyone online, especially if your account is directly linked with a website or organization. Time will tell what his punishment ends up being, but I, for one, hope it’s a light punishment if any.
Sports fans can be very passionate about their teams. Most can argue strategy and casual subjects like sane individuals. Some, however, would rather scream and hurl insults towards others who may disagree with them. An even smaller minority seeks to pick fights with those who dare to not share their views. Twitter exposes everyone it uses to all of these types of individuals, whether we like it or not. We can choose who follows us and who we follow, but when your account is that big (Ramsey’s account had over 9,000 followers) and it represents an organization, you have to try and connect with as many people as you can, good or bad.
The “fan” in question was just looking for a fight, and sadly he found one in a man who I’ve met before, if only a handful of times. He seems like a nice guy who loves his job, as he was always joking with the reporters and staff in the press box, where he’s stationed for every game. It appears this one troll just caught him on a bad day, and got the best of him. Of course the man then took to Twitter to show anyone that would pay attention just how unprofessional Ramsey was being, even though he shockingly neglected to inform everyone just how big a pile of garbage he was being himself with his own comments.
This isn’t just about Ramsey, nor is it about the troll. It’s about how society works: one man can potentially lose his job, while the other just goes about his daily life because “oh, that’s just the way the internet is.” Nothing of importance will even happen to this other man’s account, let alone his livelihood. Meanwhile Ramsey has deactivated his account, and it’s the Reds fans who suffer. While Twitter and the digital world around it devolves into consisting mainly of cat photos and off-tune cover songs on YouTube, accounts like Ramsey’s offered insight into the players we love, fun facts concerning the team and hilarious responses to questions posed to him by fans. Now we lose that because another internet tough guy got his feelings hurt and wanted the world to know.
The days of professionals being able to respond to the internet tough guys are apparently over. The Brians win because we’re all too nervous about losing it all, while they risk nothing but characters.





