pain revisited

I'm sitting in front of the television the morning before Super Bowl XLVIII (48) and thought this might be an appropriate time to briefly reminisce about the season-that-was for my dear San Francisco 49ers and once again, what-could-have-been as far as a spring and summer of celebrating as the top dog in the football world. And amazingly, their season once again abruptly and painfully ended with a missed opportunity to Michael Crabtree in the right corner of the end zone. While this year’s season ended one game short of the Super Bowl, I definitely felt a greater amount of pain with this one – the kind of pain I endured as a teen watching the Niners bow out of the playoffs over and over again to the Cowboys and Packers. There are the obvious reasons: missed opportunity for the final destination, playing against and ultimately losing to your rival, second guessing a risky play when more chances were available. Again, those are the obvious reasons. Thinking about it this morning, two weeks removed from the horror, my thoughts have crystallized a bit. Last year, there was zero doubt in my mind that Year Two of the Jim Harbaugh era would conclude with a celebratory hoisting of the Lombardi trophy. There was no way they were losing to that Baltimore Ravens team. But the game happened, they went down big (“WHAT?”), they came all the way back (“OF COURSE!”), the win was in the bag, the ball sailed past Crabtree’s outstretched hands…and the game was over. Poof. Over. Done. The ending happened so suddenly, even now, I’m not quite sure I’ve experienced the burden of the thing as a fan. Even that short blog post from last year – I just don’t have much to say about it. It just ended. So in contrast – the 49ers at the Seahawks. I languished this possibility for the entire year, I watched hours of Seattle football games hoping in vain for losses. I talked with friends repeatedly that the Seahawks wouldn’t lose with home field advantage, all of it was mental preparation for the inevitable. Not only did it play out as intended, the trail cruelly seeded tangible glimmers of hope for a different ending. And this one, it lingers. It didn’t simply end. The whole season keeps playing over in my mind. The “what ifs” and “if this”…And I absolutely loved this team, one of my all-time favorites, a 6-4 team that ran the table to finish 12-4 with impressive road playoff wins in Green Bay and Carolina. Even with (knock on wood) Super Bowl victories in the future, I’ll always remember this one. Thanks for stopping by.

pain

For posterity's sake, 2012 season (11-4-1). Blew out the Packers, squeaked by the Falcons...one game short. Another heart-wrenching ending to the season, but filled with promise. It looks like the Niners finally have their franchise quarterback. I'd love for my future first born to have vague memories of watching Kaepernick to Crabtree just as Montana to Rice became an indelible image from my childhood. In the grand scheme of all things, this means nothing for fans. But there is an affect that all Niner fans must endure for years to come. Every time NFL Films runs this Super Bowl, you have to change the channel (unless you are some sort of sports sadist). That pains me. It already annoys me. Thanks for stopping by.

giants 2012

i feel imperialized

I would like to begin this entry with a quote from the supremely talented Ichiro Suzuki prior to the inaugural World Baseball Classic in 2006:

 "I want to beat South Korea so badly, that the South Koreans won't want to play Japan for another 30 years."

Years before that he had this to say about a visit to Korea:

"Korea smells like garlic." (GreensandBrowns would have responded: "You smell golden. You also smell like a shower.")

If possible, it's always easier to tell a story with a protagonist endeavoring to overcome the dastardly deeds of the antagonist. It's even easier when the villain is beady-eyed and rodent-like. (For more information on this supreme jack ass, visit the Ichiro Exhibition Center).

Korea lost to Japan on Monday night (3-5, 10 innings) in the championship game of the 2009 WBC. Up until Monday’s final, I couldn't help but feel that the tournament was too exhibition-like. All of that changed when all that stood in Team Korea's way was the school bully (with spiky blue and pink hair). 

As such, the contest turned out to be one of the most exhilarating baseball games that I have ever watched, and I’m still a little peeved at myself for not taking the day off to personally attend the game. As I've told ML in the past, my presence at sporting events (or even watching on TV) alters outcomes. It just does. I'll take full responsibility for this loss. I see no other way to salvage this blunder but to attend this (I am a dutiful servant to the motherland).

Japan clearly churns out superior talent, and Team Korea's valiant rally at the end of the game couldn't be sustained in extra innings. The comeback alone was worth the four hour commitment during the game and the subsequent post-game hours wondering "What if?" What more could a Korean ask for? Our precondition demands that we we relish the role of prideful loser. We can blithely convince ourselves that the agony of defeat breeds a strength and character greater than those of the victor.

Tangent: The Japanese players actually look like athletes - lean and hungry; several of them should be playing in Major League Baseball. A few of the Korean players look like they eat too much rice.

Perhaps the loss would have been easier to stomach had the game winning hit come from someone other than Suzuki. Perhaps not. Irregardless, there is no shame in losing to this baseball juggernaut. I’m just glad we didn't lose any women from this exchange. Kudos, Korea.

Anyway, here is an ESPN package of the game's highlights, complete with the great John Miller’s play-by-play sprinkled throughout. It’s too bad this doesn't include every momentum changing play. For instance, it doesn't show Korea’s amazing double play turn that kept Japan from padding their lead, and it doesn't showcase Korea cutting into the lead by half on a sacrifice fly in the bottom of the eighth that set the table for the ninth inning dramatics.

If you like your kimchee spicy, I highly discourage you from watching this clip past 2:30 or so.

One last thing. How about we plunk Suzuki in the head the next time there is an open base?

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