In the 1970's growing up as a Raiders fan, I grew to love Raider legends Ken Stabler, Jim Plunkett, Cliff Branch, Fred Biletnikoff, Dave Casper, and other 70's Raider Alumni. If I wasn't a genuine Raider Nation fan who dressed the part, I still slept and ate Raider football.

Then in 1980, the 49ers began their upward surge into becoming a Super Bowl dynasty, adding key players such as Dwight Clark joining Joe Montana as a tandem. At the time, I was still inoblivious to the 49er turnaround that continued into the 1981 season, but guess who wasn't? My father, Robert George. He was a 49er fan and I had always ridiculed him for being the 49er's puppet boy. I always told Dad that the Raiders were too nasty for the 49ers, whom to me were reduced to whimpers.

Then during late 1980 or early 1981 my Dad declared, "the 49ers are going to the playoffs." He said it simply, with no fancy words or pumped up rhetoric, just stated it as a matter of fact. I was like, "Dad, what are you thinking? Are you joking?"

He wasn't.

He bet me a can of coke (since I was just a little kid with pennies in my pocket) that the 49ers were going to win it all in 1981. I didn't hesitate to take the bet because I was practically drooling over an ice-cold chilled mug of coca cola, I was also thinking of all the devastation John Matuszak was going to do to the puny 49ers offense.

My father proved me wrong, and the 49ers continued their ascension all the way to the Super Bowl XVI to my complete surprise, with Dad doing nothing but winking at me, to my dismay.

Hence, my conversion from the nasty, dirt-in-your-face Raiders to the prima donna 49ers. From black and silver to red and gold. From raiding gold panning towns to be cheated at the bank by the gold diggers in the old west.

I eventually paid up to my father the can of coke, but I consoled myself by buying myself one, too, as I wasn't going to be cut short even if I lost the bet. That's me.

I HAD to make the switch to be a 49er fan, because I was hooked by "The Catch." I thought Joe Cool and Dwight Clark were phenomenally unstoppable. So much for the noise made by Raider Nation, I am deaf anyway, and can't hear their war cries. The 49ers did all the quiet work prancing into the end zone, and I loved it.

I totally discarded the Raiders and became a diehard 49er fan from 1981 to present, and when the Raiders game was televised, most of the time I didn't watch them, except to take peeks at the legendary Bo Jackson who could both run for 300 yards and hit a 500 feet home run.

It was when the 49ers were on television, that I would be pumped full of adrenaline all the time.

My biggest thrill as a 49er diehard fan was when I was visiting London, England, where hopelessly all the hoodlums maniacally broke beer bottles at the futbol games; I was staying at a deaf friend's flat in Notting Hills Gate.

The year was 1989, the 49ers were up against Denver Broncos in Super Bowl XXIV. I asked my bloody Brit friend who was also deaf if I could watch the Super Bowl on his TV, and I could see his shoulders sink. I was a stubborn American who MUST not miss the Super Bowl at all costs, even at the expense of seeing my dear friend's shoulders sink.

All I cared about was seeing the 49ers literally running over the Bronco facemasks, and I jumped up and down frivolously with sheer ecstasy seeing the score run up to 55-10 49ers, signing furiously.

My friend only could shake his head, but I was very sure my Dad was bellowing victoriously in his ranch grounds at the very same time, scaring all his cows and scattering the birds.

If he had bet someone else, I wouldn't be surprised if it was more than just a can of coke.

I am very fortunate to be 49er fan, and I am counting on the 2008 49ers team to prove otherwise to the cynical skeptics.

Remember William Floyd, the "Bar None?"

Well, let's see if the 49ers raise the bar this year!