Waiting for them in the Pasadena Rose Bowl were the mighty Pittsburgh Steelers who had won the Super Bowl three of the previous five years. They were the team of the decade and everyone knew it - except for me. I was eight - and the world didn't really extend much beyond my favorite players, their team, and some of the teams in their division. At the time, I just worried about the Saints, the Niners, and the Falcons - yes, it was that long ago. We'd beaten those teams to make it to the Super Bowl, so "Steelers Shmeelers," I said, believing deeply that anyone with Vince Feragamo's hair would never lose at anything important EVER.
The "line" - as it was defined to me by fifth grade sports betting prodigy Jasper Thelin - had the Steelers favored by ten points. Jasper, being the benevolent little bookie that he was, told me he would throw in an extra point, giving me the Rams +11. I told him I didn't need points, took them anyway because I didn't want to look stupid, and shook his hand to seal the wager. That Sunday, Los Angeles lost to Pittsburgh 31-19, I lost $8, and the Rams lost another fan to the up-and-coming San Francisco Forty Niners.
I gave up gambling after that - in part because I didn't like losing and in greater part because the Forty Niners were so good that nobody would take my action. Instead I focused my pre-pubescent energy on sports fanaticism. I saved my allowance for Topps football cards, football jerseys, football pennants, and just about anything Forty Niner-related. I even bought this cake from my "sort of" friend Dustin's parents the day before his tenth birthday.
Sunday mornings had me swimming in a sea of scarlet and gold. Dwight Clark jersey - check. Matching albeit too large sweat pants - check. Six boxes of Hi-C Ecto Cooler - check. Good luck pineapple-flavored Home Run Pie (almost gold and almost delicious) - check and check. Although the games usually started at 1:00, the kids in my neighborhood were generally out on the street by nine thirty role-playing what we were sure would be the next record-breaking performance by Joe Montana and the gang. Those were the days...
Since then, two major events have taken place deeply affecting my football viewing and appreciation: free agency and my re-introduction to gambling. Free agency in all sports makes being a fan a much more flexible experience. While I still root for the Forty Niners today, I'm also rooting for Alex Smith in Kansas City, Mike Nolan in Atlanta, and Mike Singletary in Minnesota. Gambling in sports, however, makes being a fan not only very flexible but also potentially lethal. On any given Sunday I will root for any given team depending on many different circumstances. If there's one thing I've learned it's that blind loyalty to your team or any team at all is a recipe for financial disaster.
Today, instead of scarlet and gold, my living room is littered with 32 different coasters bearing all the NFL team logos. I only put my sugar-free diet sodas on the coasters of the teams I'm backing that day, and the last Home Run Pie I ate was after a Special Brownie party my senior year of college. And instead of role-playing my NFL heroes of the week in the morning, I teach my daughter math by having her slide the points I'm getting or giving that day on her grown-up sized abacus.
Nonetheless, it's still Sunday, it's still football, and today is still the best day of the year. If you have time before kick-off - post your first experience in the comments section. Who knows - maybe your story will help other sports betting virgins feel safer.
Enjoy the roller coaster ride everyone,
Vinny and Marco
