I have all but deserted our local pro football teams, the Raiders and 49ers. I gave up on the Raiders years ago. All that outlaw image stuff goes against my grain. And the 49ers are dreadful. However, I do think the 49ers are on the right track and, in a year or two, they’ll be just fine. Yes, I still watch them, but find myself actually dozing off during games.
Strange, but the Warriors have caught my eye. Patty watches basketball and I’ve never paid much attention to it. Now that the locals are winning, I’ve started watching, too. They’re an okay bunch, young and not yet fully tattooed like NBA versions of the Yakusa.
We go to one Giants baseball game per year. Our friends, Steve and Carolyn, organize a huge annual group tailgate party and we all sit together at the game. Until this past season, Barry Bonds has been kind enough to hit at least one home run at every game we have attended. Yes, it is something to watch him blast that thing out of the park and into San Francisco Bay. Yet, it’s really the tailgate party I enjoy. If we went home right afterward, I wouldn’t miss the game much.
Fair weather fans have the advantage of ignoring bad home teams without guilt. We know what we are. And it leaves more time for hiking in the woods.
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