Watching two conference championship games wrap up yesterday in stunningly disappointing fashion, I was overcome by one thought: Thank goodness the Vikings weren’t playing today.
If they had been, is there any possible way they don’t come out on the short end? The simple fact that Billy Cundiff was wearing purple when he shanked a 32-yard tying field goal was enough to send a shudder down my spine. Had the Vikings been there, they would’ve played that role, or the one of San Francisco, inexplicably losing on two muffed punt returns. However the particulars work out, some teams win, and some teams break your heart, the way it actually unfolds is just details. But as both games unraveled, you couldn't help but think, that is EXACTLY how we would've lost those games.
In a twisted way, that can make you sort of happy. Rather than spending today dejectedly staring into space, we can simply offer condolences to the shattered Ravens and Niners fans out there who deserved better, but ended up with what they got. Of course not all of them deserved better, in fact I know of one Niner “fan” who deserves only ridicule and scorn. To protect his anonymity, we’ll just call him Fraudboy, as it’s an appropriate moniker, given how things went down.
Fraudboy is a friend of mine who I’ve been watching football with for many years. He’s a dedicated antagonist of Minnesota sports teams, even going so far as cheering lustily following some of the more crushing losses in state sporting history. Obviously this has put us at odds on several occasions, even resulting in some isolated incidents of physical violence. Nothing too serious, no bloodshed, just the general sort fisticuffs that are the natural consequence of acting like a d-bag. Sometimes you gotta tell somebody what time it is.
At any rate, Fraudboy enjoys sports as much as I do, even if his loyalties are confounding. Despite living his whole life in Minnesota, he hates hockey, loves basketball and counts the Niners and Lakers as his favorite teams. Despite living his whole life in America, he also despises baseball. So while the rest of us sit and root on the Twins on a May Sunday, he will carp and whine about the fact that playoff basketball is being missed.
Now I’m not saying that everyone needs to fall in lock-step with the local teams of the town they grew up in. But if you don’t, then you’d better have a damn good reason, and above all, you’d better be consistent. I’ve never gotten much in the way of good reasons from this fellow, and I seem to recall periods during which other teams topped his list. But since the past decade has been one of solid affiliations, I was willing to mlet it go. Then yesterday happened.
As is our custom, we headed out to a bar for the early game, looking to grab a bite to eat and a couple beers before retiring to the couch. Fraudboy spent the majority of the time haranguing the rest of us for incorrectly predicting that New Orleans would end the 49ers season the previous weekend. Fine. He also loudly proclaimed that his squad would win the late game and advance to the Super Bowl, because, to quote “this isn’t the Vikings we’re talking about here”. Fine again. He was throwing back beers, having a grand old time, king of the world, holding court from his barstool. And it was fine.
What wasn’t fine was that, after all the talk, all the bravado, harassments and insults, Fraudboy took a seat on the couch…AND FELL THE F*CK ASLEEP!!! (Some may say passed out, but I’m being charitable here) Now I’ll grant you he made it through the first half just fine, and many of us have dozed off during a football game before, but to fall asleep when your favorite team is playing in a conference championship game? Floored would not be a strong enough word. Aghast comes to mind, as does disgusted. I know of no other fan who would ever let something like this happen. I even tried to wake him up by trying to land Cheez-Its in his mouth from across the room, scored a couple direct hits to the nose, but nothing.
Just know that I could fly overseas, eat a Thanksgiving dinner, down a bottle of NyQuil and listen to one of those white noise machines on the ‘Babbling Brook’ setting. If the Vikings were playing a playoff game, I can guarantee you, wide awake. I don’t bring this up because it makes me special, it’s a trait that every other fan in America shares, how does something like this happen?!?!?!?
This moment will never be lived down, and I do mean never. I managed to text just about everyone that Fraudboy has ever watched football with, complete with photos to prove my point. Next season, and for every season the rest of his life, any time Fraudboy utters a “we need to get the Niners game on”, it will be met with a stinging “Why? You feeling like a nap?”
The only question is, how to hammer the point home more completely?
A pillow, or better yet, one of those sleep masks, embroidered with the 49er logo?
Setting a bottle of No-Doz on the table at the bar every Sunday next football season?
Text messages at 7 PM every Saturday night reminding him to go home and get rested up so he can make it through the afternoon?
All I know is, when you open your mouth, you also open yourself up to all sorts of people just looking to throw those boasts back in your face. With eight months to plan, you can bet I’ll have something nefarious cooked up for all 17 weeks of next season.
Fraudboy, you’ve made a critical error my friend.
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