We're talking trash, here, apparently

With the understanding that I'm not certain that I've learned anything, really, I have to say I've learned a lot being the editor of a small town newspaper. A huge, tsunami-sized amount that continues to grow.
In this position, I often find myself in situations that are extremely unusual. Pretty much any situation is unusual for me, though. I'm a slow-adapting type of person, I figure, or potentially something even stranger, like maybe an alien. There are so many types of human behaviour (mine included) that strike me as incredibly odd.
The one I experienced tonight at the local hockey game was the phenomenon of trash-talking. Now well-acquainted with the hushed tones of gossip, this new behaviour was like backstabbing on parade. Suddenly, the dark and nasty voice that usually shies away from revealing itself broadly was now on public display.
The first perp was a teenaged boy, so I could almost see it as a defensive mechanism to compensate for his acne-ridden face or misguided rushing hormones. Still, it didn't make his pimples any prettier, and turned his gawkiness from possibly cute to downright ugly.
More shocking was the fully-grown but not quite grown-up gentleman to my right who must have had the all-seeing eyes of God on his side as he cursed every call the ref made (against his team).
It was like sitting in hate soup, a tepid uncomfortable broth of floating hostility where no good effort was recognized for what it was in itself. The only thing that mattered wasn't even who won the game; what mattered was the righteousness of the trash-talkers. They had the mysterious authority to dismiss the experience, judgment and skill of the people in the game.
I was in awe. Did they believe the things they were saying? Were they saying them only to perplex the people they were clawing down? Huh. Yet another strange behaviour to catalogue but not to practise.
I've also learned in my time as editor that I like watching hockey. It's got to be live, but it doesn't matter if it's Bantams or Midgets, or the NHL. Nope, I'm an indiscriminate hockey aesthete; I love the balance and skill of the players, their determination and tenacity, the hits, the goals and the misses. I love how the refs scramble to stay out of the way while staying near the action.
Generally, I love the crowd too, when they cheer and appreciate the efforts made. I'm not a big enough person to love the haters, though (sorry, Jesus/Buddha). They just make me feel sorry – sorry for the players and refs that have to put up with them, sorry for their neighbours in the stands, sorry for them and the crappy outlook they have, and sorry for the human race in general. As far as I can tell, absolutely no one needs vitriol spewed at them when they're doing their best. And guess what? Maybe not all, but most people are doing the best they can pretty much all the time.