Hi there, my name is Sara. I'm a married 30 year old Niners fan, displaced and living in St. Louis. I like American microbrewed beer, big dogs, prohibitively expensive shoes, and of course, football!
I'm known in my office to be a maniacal fan. My cube, year round, is an homage to the Niners. From my spent ticket stubs to my postcards of San Francisco, from my game day pins to my red and gold piggy bank, my loyalties are apparent. Since I live in St. Louis, I am surrounded by THE BEST FANS IN BASEBALL (tm) but the absolute worst fans in football. "How can you cheer for the Niners? They've sucked for like 5 years straight!" My answer is usually something along the lines of, "It's not a choice but something I was born into. Doesn't matter if the Niners never have another winning season, they're still my team. So step the *&$! off."
As much as I'm going to miss looking at Mike Nolan*, Singletary's promotion is the best thing that's happened to the 49ers in years. Shaun Hill is no Brett Favre, but he is a solid game manager who makes very few mistakes. Our defense looks fierce, and Joe Nedney is a stud kicker. I'm way happier to have a decent kicker than I should be--I haven't forgotten Jose Cortez and Owen *$#&@$% Pochman. Oh, my yells of outrage at those two used to scare the hell out of my dog, I was not sad to see the back of the lot of them.
My hope is somewhat legitimized because his hard-nosed leadership seems to have some effect on our ragtag group of misfits as well as our proven, Pro Bowl caliber players. I still remember the Dropping of Pants Heard around the World and the immediate change in Vernon Davis' attitude and performance. Sing is a bad ass, and he expects the same level of badassitry from his guys. And I think--I don't know if this is the season, but this year is the start of something great. I can feel it.
Earlier this year, I made the executive decision to go to as many 49ers games this year as possible. Looked at the map, checked out the schedule, and decided that I could feasibly do four: Minnesota, Indy, Green Bay, and St. Louis.
It's finally here--it's finally Football season. I've saved up my pennies and vacation days, and now it's time. Tomorrow, I drive up to the great white north, up to the land of wild rice soup and snow in October and malls the size of cities and a billion lakes or something. I'm going to experience the much-fabled "Minnesota Nice" first hand, though, I wonder how nice they'll be after three hours stuck in a dome with me. Taunting certainly isn't my style, win or lose. However, being very loud and cheering at every first down *is* my style, as is drinking copious amounts of luke-warm beer that costs more per ounce than gold.
So, I don't really know if this post has a point. I'm killing time at work, clock watching very hard, jumping out of my skin with excitement, excitement about exploring a new town and watching my team battle with Grampa Favre and Purple Jesus (Adrian Peterson). Excitement about the prospect of a winning season. Excitement about what's to come, both immediately and over the next few months.
*My best friend (who is also a die-hard Niners fan) and I call Mike Nolan "Sexpot". He might have been a terrible head coach, but my God can that man wear a suit. Rawr.