You may have noticed I don’t mention the sportsball here. That’s because it’s not really my thing, generally speaking. This is not a secret.
What many people don’t know is that, many years ago, when Husband and I were still in Colorado, we were considering opportunities in Boston and I was actually pretty excited to become a Red Sox fan. Because they were cursed, never going to win, etc. Being a fan was a sort of badge of honor. Then they went and won that world series thing, and our Boston opportunity fizzled. Curse of the bambino, indeed.
Later, I determined I would become a Cubs fan. Loser team forever! Ridiculed by those weirdos who paint themselves! Supercute outfits!
I think I actually cried when they won before I had a chance to declare my fandom. Real tears, y’all.
Enough was enough, and I decided to stop sitting around and waiting for the Worst Team to find me: I consulted with some friends who actually follow the sportsing and asked them who I should like, refusing teams I would never be able to remember (I think there were some panthers or jaguars in there?) along with anyone whose colors were too awful. Also immediately vetoed? Anyone with a chance in hell of winning any of those Big Games I keep hearing about. Nuh-uh, I’m not buying tickets for that shit: I’m in it for hoodies and cute slippers.
And that is how I became a 49ers fan.
Husband, of course, mocks this endlessly, and is forever trying to trip me up with his trick questions and pop quizzes.
HIM: If you’re such a fan, you should know who some of the players are.
ME: You mean like Eric Rogers and Chris Jones?
HIM: Easy names to remember.
ME: Well, there’s also NaVorro Bowman, but he tore his Achilles tendon and things are a bit up in the air for him…
HIM: Did you just google that?
ME: I googled it a long time ago. When I became a fan.
HIM: Fine, you’re a fan.
HIM: So do they still play at Candlestick Park?
ME: Tch, that’s not even a thing!
HIM: …It’s kind of a famous thing.
ME: Oh. Well, no. They play at Levi’s Stadium now.
HIM: I can’t believe you didn’t know about Candlestick Park…
ME: Shut up, I’m a fan!
Look, I don’t mean to give the impression that he’s doing this all the time; for one thing, he’s far too busy annoying me in other ways to commit his full attention to this strategy. But you can see, I’m sure, how that almost makes it worse. The not knowing where or how he’ll strike? All I wanted was to wear red and gold (which, by the way, looks fabulous on me no matter what color I do my hair) and proudly exempt myself from all of the local sportsing nonsense, because my team is far away and doing so poorly that no one will make me talk about it. How is this not the perfect solution? But no, he’s got to go and dick it up, hasn’t he?
ME: You forgot veggie stock.
HIM: The store’s crowded on weekends.
ME: So you won’t go back?
HIM: Not on a weekend. Not unless (local team) are playing.
ME: Are they playing today?
HIM: Well, since it’s Saturday… and they’re not a college team… I’ma guess no.
ME: How do you know so much hand egg stuff? You’re not even a fan. You don’t even have a team! I have a team.
HIM: You don’t know that your “team” only plays on Sundays!
ME: Shut up.
HIM: Fine. Nothing more about your 69-ers.
ME: 49ers. ASSHOLE.
HIM: Lucky guess.
ME: Nuh-uh. I’m a fan.
HIM: Oh really? Who did they play last? When did they play last? When do they play next?
ME: I’m a fan, not a stalker!
HIM: You don’t even know when they play!
ME: THAT’S CALLED STALKING!
OFFSPRING: Isn’t football season over? All my teachers are watching basketball in class now.
ME: (points) Public school.