It’s a sign of maturity that I’m rooting for the Seattle Seahawks to beat my San Francisco 49ers in this Saturday’s NFL divisional playoff. It’s because my son-in-law Tim cares about this game, and sports outcomes in general, more than I do. We’ve both got professional sports in perspective, life goes on, win or lose, but he’s convinced, along with a lot of sports analysts, that this is the Seahawks year to go all the way. If the Niners somehow thwart that destiny, there will be no escape from the disappointment. I’ll be sitting right on his couch, eating his food and drinking his beverages when it happens.
The final regular-season game between the NFC West contenders should provide the father of my grandchildren with plenty of optimism. The Hawks flew into Levi Stadium and manhandled the Niners. I showed up that night in a crimson/gold team t-shirt, ready to revel in a home field battering of the disliked (I don’t use the word hate in this context) Seattle team.
Both teams had already made the playoffs, but the number one seed position and home field advantage throughout was at stake. There was no rationale for substitutions that might protect starters from pre-post season injury. From the opening gun, quarterback Purdy, star running back McCaffrey, and Coach Shanahan flailed against the visiting Seahawks; the 49ers were never in the game.
Now, just two weeks later, this Saturday, they meet again. I’ll be sitting on my daughter’s husband’s couch again, with a bowl of chili and sense of trepidation. A native Oregonian, Tim has no problem using the word “hated” when it comes to the 49ers, or, for that matter, any California team.
It wasn’t always so. At one time a playoff loss by the Oakland Raiders or the 49ers could bum out my whole week. The 1972 Immaculate Reception by Pittsburgh Steeler running back Franco Harris against the Raiders is the classic example of the loss that physically hurts. Conversely, “The Catch,” which cinched the Niners’ first Super Bowl appearance, is the kind of win that a fan carries back into the reality of the work-week with head held high and a good feeling.
There’s something about youth (I’m talking fortysomething in this case) that makes us care more about sports outcomes. We internalize home teams, and personally identify with their fortunes. As we age, even the most storied season, the greatest games, come into perspective.
If the Niners lose this weekend, seems likely, I won’t suffer a moment of disappointment. If the Seahawks win, I’ll be happy for Tim. If the 49ers start kicking Seahawk ass, I may leave early.
