I’m a Warriors fan.

Unlike most of you, I endured the 13-year drought of zero playoff appearances, the empty stands and the incident where Latrell Sprewell tried to strangle P.J. Carlesimo during practice. It’s been a tough 13 years, but we finally made it. We’ve shocked the world. Dallas is dead.

Fine.

I’m not really the hardcore Warriors fan I wish I was. I’m only a lousy bandwagoner.

If you asked me who Mickael Pietrus was two weeks ago, I probably would have told you that he was the scientist guy who had a dish named after him. If you told me that Baron Davis was clean-shaven, I probably would have believed you.

But that still doesn’t prevent me from riding the Warrior bandwagon all the way to NBA glory.

In light of the Warriors 16-5 late-season run to earn a playoff spot and their six game series victory over the Mavs, front-runners like me are everywhere. You can’t escape Warrior mania. While writing this column I took a break to browse Facebook and was bombarded by a plethora of Warrior logos where faces should have been.

Anywhere you go, you’re bound to hear talk about the Warriors.

“Baron Davis is awesome. Did you see that alley-oop from half-court? SICK.”

“Could someone introduce Dirk to Robert Horry?”

“I can’t believe it, man. After 13 years, we’ve finally won a series in the playoffs!”

In a matter of a few weeks, the franchise known for its futility has become the Bay Area’s hottest entity.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have any contempt for these newly-anointed Warriors fans. After all, I’m one of them.

You see, there’s nothing wrong with being a bandwagoner. It’s inherently American. Nobody likes a perennial loser. You think there’s a reason why the Royals’ and the D-Rays’ attendance figures are lower than, say, the Yankees?

Bandwagoning is a uniquely American pastime; freedom fries and Cadillacs have nothing on the wagon.

You don’t have to look any further than last year’s World Cup to see the disparity between us and the rest of the world. When most countries lose, fans are crushed. Suicide rates skyrocket and national days of mourning are held. When the U.S. loses, we don’t hesitate in finding our next rooting interest. Just think of all the France, Italy and Brazil soccer jerseys you see.

It might not have the strongest grounding in principle, but it’s OK to be a bandwagoner. It’s only natural for us.

And after all, without bandwagoners, the sports merchandising industry would be a mess. Before the last few weeks of basketball, I had probably seen a grand total of five items of Warriors apparel, worn by brave, brave souls. Now? If you don’t have your Warriors gear on, you’re stuck in last week.

Bandwagoning is a part of our culture that isn’t going anywhere. I recognize and proudly acknowledge my status; there’s no reason for us to be ashamed.

And I understand that it’s easy for true fans to have contempt for the American way of instant gratification. If you’re one of the five die-hard Warriors fans on campus who have followed the team closely for years, you’re enjoying the amazing run. But at the same time, you’re thinking in the back of your head, “Where were the rest of these fans when Latrell was choking P.J.? I was there.”

And it’s a completely legitimate qualm. But give the rest of us a break — we can’t help the way we are.

So, to all the true fans: I commend you for your persistence, dedication and spirit. You deserve to enjoy the success of your team.

As for the rest for us, the group of bandwagoners that I willingly subscribe to: Enjoy the ride.

Jack Salisbury is as American as the next L.A./Golden State/Portugal fan. Support him in his patriotic disloyalty at jack24@stanford.edu.