5 billion people worldwide share the same psychological addiction.

They wake up at 3am to watch. They wear strangers' names on their backs. They cry over results that don't affect their lives.

Sports fans.

Professor Aaron C. T. Smith's new book "The Psychology of Sports Fans" connects the dots: The same evolutionary wiring that makes us wear team colours is what makes us choose Coke over Pepsi.

It's tribalism. Pure and simple.

Smith explains it brilliantly: "Our minds possess an incredible ability to believe; an ability that has been crucial for survival throughout human history. Now, like a muscle that's been trained to the extreme, we can't resist flexing our beliefs."

Our ancestors survived by forming tight-knit tribes. By believing in shared stories. By rallying around common symbols.

The tribalism that protected us from predators now manifests in derby rivalries.

The other week I ended up alone in a sports bar in Salzburg, watching Chelsea’s first game of the season. By the end of the match, I was chatting with everyone in there. Complete strangers became friends over a shared ritual.

That's the magic. Football was just the excuse. Connection was the point.

Sports fandom isn't irrational. It's human nature on steroids.

It fulfills three fundamental needs:

Belonging (being part of something bigger).

Identity (knowing who we are).

Meaning (mattering in a chaotic world).

And fans don't consume sports. They co-create it.

Every chant matters. Every superstition counts. Every pre-match ritual has meaning. The outcome exists in quantum uncertainty until witnessed by believers.

Without fans, it's just 22 people kicking a ball. With them, it's theatre. Religion. War and peace rolled into 90 minutes.

Smith's conclusion: "Fans don't just support a team; they believe in it. They have faith in the athletes who represent them, in the colours they wear, and in the history they honour."

In a world where traditional communities have fractured, where meaning feels scarce, where belonging happens through screens we swipe past...

Sports remains one of the last places where strangers become family. Where belief is rewarded. Where identity is earned, not algorithmic.

Maybe that's worth waking up at 3am for.