Football Chick
“I’ve experienced the highest of highs and lowest of lows. I think to really appreciate anything you have to be at both ends of the spectrum.”
Hello all. I wanted to put this out before the Super Bowl. Unfortunately, life did not permit that but that’s ok. I feel like this post is good anytime and it’s only 72 hours late.
During Bad Bunny’s halftime show, I was salsa dancing as much as my rhythmless self could and singing along in broken Spanish. Hablo muy poco.
Of course in the grand tradition of racism, the Flour Rangers had to organize their own “All-American” Halftime Show featuring just white artists. I’m using the word artists loosely because the headliner was Kid Rock — most of us left that urchin in 1999. I wonder if the Nazis know he had a Black girlfriend back in Detroit? Actually, a lot of racist white dudes have. Slavery provides the context. Secondly, they’re supposed to be against pedophiles but are glorifying a man whose lyrics include bragging about having a penchant for having sex with underage girls. Third, the amount of people that do not know Puerto Rico is a US territory and Puerto Ricans are US citizens is enough to make my head hurt. Ignorance is in high supply in the good old U-S of A.
On a more positive note, I thought I would take today, only three days removed from football season ending to say how much the game means to me. It’s been a huge part of my life since I was a toddler watching the Denver Broncos with my mom and grandma. If mom wasn’t around, she’d pour a smidge of Budweiser in my sippy cup. I’ll just chalk that up to her being from Mississippi. That might explain why I crashed my Barbie convertible.
Football has always been a woman thing in my family. My grandmother started it. She was a Minnesota Vikings fan during the Fran Tarkenton and Purple People Eaters defense days. That is until my mother became a Broncos fan in 1986 and converted my grandmother to the church of the Orange Crush.
My mother loved John Elway, affectionately known as the “Duke of Denver”. She believed in the Magnificent 7 from the start of her fanship. Even though, the Broncos lost two Super Bowls back to back including one here in San Diego at Jack Murphy Stadium, also known as Qualcomm Stadium and Snapdragon Stadium. The Broncos lost against the Washington Redskins (Commanders) in 1988 just a few months before I was born. But before this loss, my mother went down to the team’s hotel and met some Broncos. Elway’s receivers known as the "Three Amigos” placed their hands on my mommy’s pregnant belly. I guess you can say I was born to be a Broncos fan.
The good times watching football with my mom and grandmother came to an end when my grandmother passed away from breast cancer and a lot of family drama rooted in greed happened. If you want more details on that, visit my piece The 90s. While we experienced trying to find a steady living situation since the mother of my mom’s friend acted as if I was a nuisance merely existing as a nine-year-old child, the Broncos won their first Super Bowl in our hometown at Qualcomm Stadium. Terrell Davis, who is my favorite jersey that I own, was the Super Bowl MVP that year. Davis is also from San Diego and went to Lincoln High School. Represent!
We got a chance to share the Broncos’ first Super Bowl win with family friends who truly cared for us. Unfortunately, after my mom and I moved into our first apartment — she was involved in a major car accident that made the news. She was sideswiped by a truck barreling down the highway and her car flipped into an embankment, crashing into a tree right near the stadium. I almost lost my mother that day. I didn’t get a chance to see her until the next day when the family friend I was spending the weekend with took me to the hospital that she was in. I just remember crying and being grateful my mom was alive because I couldn’t fathom losing my grandparents who had helped raise me and then my mother within 4 years at 10-years-old.
Unfortunately, my mother and I would be apart when the Broncos won their second Super Bowl the very next year. I was staying with my father for a year while my mother sorted things out. She didn’t like leaving me home alone until after 1 am due to her work schedule and having to take public transportation after her car was totaled. Football wasn’t as big in their household if the Rams weren’t involved so my mom called to tell me about it.
Once I got back to San Diego after a year away, the good times of watching football with my mom started happening again. But I didn’t really get into it until she took me to my first regular season football game as a high school freshman. I remember wearing my adult sized Shannon Sharpe jersey that we found at Foot Locker and my navy blue Chuck Taylor’s. I was so proud to wear that oversized jersey. I remember cheering so loud a guy told my mother I had an “ear piercing scream”. This game was in December and we stayed during the entire game that went into overtime. The Chargers wound up winning by a field goal but I had the time of my life. That’s when I realized that I love football like a fat kid loves cake. I needed it like the air I breathed.
However, one day in 2002 I was watching the Steelers play. I believe Kordell Stewart was the quarterback at the time. I decided that I wanted to forge my own path and I told my mom I was becoming a Steelers fan. Her face dropped. But I was confident I knew how to pick a team like my mom did. I even suffered through that awful Tommy Maddox year. But then Big Ben came. The Steelers won the Super Bowl for Jerome Bettis, we all know the story. And I paid $1000 for ticket packages that included games I didn’t want to go to just to see the Steelers play in person. If I was smart, I would’ve resold those tickets on Stubhub or something. I was a stupid 18-year-old.
But, I never quite gave up my Broncos fanship. I more or less had two teams. In fact, to pay my mom back for my love of football — I started buying the Broncos tickets. My mom, my boyfriend at the time and I went to a Christmas Eve 2007 game. The Broncos got curb stomped but we met this homeless guy on the trolley on the way to the game. He had on a Chargers t-shirt and we decided to give him the extra ticket we had since my stepdad couldn’t go. He said he’d meet us there. So during the game, he came up to our section and said he got into the stadium with our ticket but he was going to go sit field level; Some drunken dude who got kicked out gave him his better ticket. We all said in unison: “Merry Christmas!”
We started in the nosebleeds but eventually I bought my mom field level tickets behind the Broncos’ bench. Tim Tebow and Demaryius Thomas were right there. They were so close we could hear their conversations on the sideline. My mom’s eyes lit up. I’ll never forget her “Tebowing” as the game-winning field goal was kicked.
The next year, we went to our first and only Monday night game to watch Peyton Manning and the No Fly Zone defense come back from a 24-0 deficit at the half; They won 35-24. But let me tell you about how my mother and I were so excited to be there that we got there extra early. We saw ESPN setting up the stage for the pre-game show and everything. We were also very lit before the game started. Some short king Chargers fan tried to start shit with me and security came over but to my surprise the Chargers fans in our section defended me. I’ll never forget them for that because I thought for sure they would’ve thrown me to the wolves in my Broncos gear.
My mom’s unwavering faith in her long-time squad at the half had others mystified. They told her condescendingly, “I admire your confidence” when she said the Chargers wouldn’t score another point. She also told a guy at the concession stand who was voting for Mitt Romney that Barack Obama would be re-elected, because he was the better candidate. While they were arguing about politics, the stadium went eerily quiet. I looked up at the screen and said “MOM! Stop arguing with this man. It’s 24-21 and we’re driving! Let's get back to our seats!”. We rushed back to our seats and watched the rest of the game. Those guys who were talking shit were gone. My mom was right about the Broncos and Former President Obama.
I was jazzed because like I met that Pro Bowl corner’s father and he hooked it up for my stepdad to meet the Chiefs, I hoped that this certain defensive back’s mother would hook it up after I met her. She failed me. So after the game was over, I rushed to the Broncos bus area in my chunky heeled cowboy boots down the escalators with my mom trailing behind me. She lost me in the crowd but not to worry — all of those men who saw my legs run by them in my shorts and boots knew exactly where to send her. But not before asking: “Can I date your daughter?”. At least I got a picture of Champ Bailey before I gently grazed his arm as he was reaching for his wife and scored my mom a hug from Ryan Clady. It’s all about making the adjustments and creating those opportunities to make big plays. You knew a football cliche was coming.
I have so many stories involving football including the first time I got an autograph. I still have that Chargers t-shirt signed by Marcellus Wiley. I wrote about meeting a Pro Bowl cornerback that was interested in me. I lost a bet and did unseemly things with the money before I had to pay the winner. I interrupted Eric Weddle’s game at the county fair for a photo. I had Tim Brown’s Hall of Fame sweat dripped on me because I wanted a photo after he worked out. I met Trent Dilfer after being released from the hospital when they forced me to go to work with kidney pain. I met Corey Liuget at Jamba Juice grabbing a smoothie. I started a sports blog called 3rd & Long; I built a following of not only sports writers/personalities from ESPN and a Jaguars beat writer from USA Today (if my memory serves me right) but football players like Lane Johnson from the Philadelphia Eagles followed me. The reason why I quit football blogging is because I could never get my significant other at the time to support me in my endeavors to make it a career. I couldn’t even get him to read a piece that I wrote.
Football is so much more than just “Do the thing. Get the points. Yay, sports”. It’s family. It’s fun. It’s damn near a religious experience. It’s stories.
We love full-circle moments here. Let’s go back to Sunday and Super Bowl 60.
I love a good story and Sam Darnold’s redemption arc to a championship was everything. I had been saying before the end of regular season that if for whatever reason my team didn’t make it to the Super Bowl, I’d root for the Seahawks. I’ve been watching football a long time and I was dismayed when the Vikings cut Darnold. I’m sure they’ll regret that for a long time. But think about it: This man started with the Jets. They gave up on him and sent him packing to Carolina. He was a back-up there and in San Francisco. He started for the Vikings and they made the playoffs but lost in the first round. The Vikings cut him; Then he goes to Seattle and wins a Super Bowl. I was living for all of it.
Little did I know, there was a bonus story behind the Super Bowl MVP, running back Kenneth Walker III. Not only had his father not seen him play ever because he doesn’t do crowds and his agent had to convince his father to go to the Super Bowl, but Walker is a blood clot survivor. He was told he would never play football after doctors discovered blood clots in both of his lungs. But with the love of his mom and dad, blood thinners and sheer determination — He was able to live out his dreams and become the first running back Super Bowl MVP since the aforementioned Terrell Davis, whose jersey I wore while watching the game.
It’s triumph of the human spirit. It’s never give up on your dreams. It’s finding strength in the love from those around you and those who truly believe in you whether it be your blood family or your chosen family. As Sam Darnold said: His teammates believed in him. Seeing Sam and Kenneth on the tea cups at Disneyland after definitely brought me some joy.
This is why I didn’t have the heart to tell my friend that I didn’t really want to watch the Super Bowl at a bar after all. I wanted to enjoy the story without entertaining potential drunk dudes she was interested in and their wingmen. I hope if she reads this, she understands.
I love a good story. I hope you do too. With any luck, hopefully I’ve converted a few non-fans into fans of the game. Speaking of converting: The reason I gave up my second team is because of a certain chaotic wide receiver. I’m sure you can figure out who that is. Well, that and I remembered just how good I look in blue and orange.
Broncos Country! <3
Oh yeah. We made signs too. 2014 season. :)
Read more on Kenneth Walker III & Sam Darnold below: