When I was a little girl, my dad and I would watch football on our tiny little TV in our tiny government house on the reservation I grew up on. We'd cover the windows with my baby blankets to block out the sun as it would shine on the TV and you couldn't see the picture. And we'd watch football. My dad doesn't remember it, but he would root for the Niners. It was the golden era for the team. Jerry Rice. Joe Montana. Super Bowl Rings...
I carried those memories with me through my adult years. But I'd never even been to San Francisco. Never watched that team from my childhood play. But I continued to root for them and as years passed I became more of a die-hard, faithful, gold-blooded fan. Accepting of the fact that I'd likely only get to ever watch them on TV.
Yesterday, all of that changed.
And today, everyone keeps telling me, “Sorry about the game.”
But I’m over here still grinning ear to ear looking at them in sheer confusion...My best friend and her amazing family made my little girl dreams come true yesterday...
•My FIRST EVER 49ers game.
•My FIRST EVER tailgate.
•Meeting Richard Sherman’s dad.
•Seeing Richard Sherman in red and gold.
•Being welcomed with open arms by some amazing Seahawks fans.
•Watching my boys score three times!
•Riding in one of Seattle’s Pedicabs around the stadium.
•Seeing Jeffrey Dean Morgan hoist the 12th Man Flag.
•Being just yards away from Jimmy Garoppolo even if he wasn’t suited up.
•Witnessing how loud the 12th man can get...that energy is like electricity through your veins.
•My first VIP flying experience (Alaska has a LOUNGE?!)
So when you tell me you're sorry about the game I’m assuming you just mean because you weren’t there to witness it with me. Wins and losses mean nothing in comparison to an amazing day, with amazing people and memories I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.