PROFESSIONAL FOOTBALL: ROOT FOR YOUR OWN DAMN TEAM

I like professional football, but have learned not to take it too seriously. Nevertheless, I have my pet peeves, and the major one is when people who live in my locality root for someone else’s team.

Say the Forty-Niners are “our team.” But some schmucks root for the opponent instead, like the Seahawks. Now it’s one thing if they used to live in Seattle, or were born and raised there, and have legitimate ties to the place. But most team turncoats don’t have that as an excuse. They identify with someone else’s team, community, city and state because they’re just frigging nuts. Or maybe they’re contrarians, someone who needs to "be different," the way the facially-studded, tattoo-festooned counter culture do. “Look at me, I’m gross! I’m such a rebel! Oh yeah!”

Other possible reasons -- maybe they think the other team’s mascot is cuter. Or they like the other team’s colors better. Or because they would love to live in the city of the opposing team, but can’t afford to move. I mean, who wouldn’t want to live in Seattle where it rains sometimes straight for 100 days at a time, and the sky is mostly cloud cover except for a week in August (I may be exaggerating, but not by much).

The secretary in the tax office where I work roots for any other team that plays the Forty-Niners. I told her if the Russians invaded the USA, she’d root for the Russians, because she thinks their uniforms are cute or their helmets are chic. After the Seahawks won the NFC championship game, she posted her joy on FaceBook. I instantly unfriended her.

I remember several years ago when the Forty-Niners were playing Dallas in the playoffs for the Super Bowl. A friend of mine, who has never lived in Texas, showed up for a lunch meeting wearing a Cowboys hat and sweatshirt. As far as I was concerned, he could have hung a sign around his neck that said “ASSHOLE.”

Now sports turncoats have a right to their unnatural proclivities, but that doesn’t mean I have to like them. Instead of rubbing salt into the wounds of their fellow Bay Area residents, they should just keep their oddities to themselves. I believe in tolerance for gay people, but I don’t want to watch them make out.  So if you are a sports traitor, keep it to yourself. Be sensitive to the feelings of the less insane.