The Chronicles of a San Francisco 49ers Fan

One does not need a great imagination to be a 49ers fan. When you speak of such legends, you cannot help but embellish. I found a certain magic in that stadium known as Candlestick Park.

The fog would roll in off the bay, like a dragon’s breath. Awaiting battle on the field below, players shined like crimson Knights in golden armor.

They may have come from humble beginnings but the 49ers noble history would read more like an epic spectacle than any statistical sports guide would.

The young owner, Eddie DeBartolo, Jr., would discover the wizardry of Bill Walsh, and the gallantry in Joe Montana.

Together they would rise up as champions, leading the quest to forge a Dynasty. It is no wonder that many would christen this era as Camelot.

Maybe I am being a bit melodramatic, but I can’t help but be philosophical. I am no John Facenda but my passion for this team is as great.

This foolish zeal not only keeps me a fan, but also helps me take into account the memories I hold most dear to my heart.

Like many others, I have become an extension of the 49ers. I eat, drink, sleep and bleed red and gold. Let me tell you, it has not always been such a spirited existence, especially as of late. You do not become as dedicated a fan without a lot of trials and tribulation.

To make it even more perplexing, the first team I followed growing up, was not even the 49ers. Unbelievably, I was an Oakland Raiders fan before joining the 49ers faithful.

So how does a member of the Raider Nation become a 49ers fan? Well, it’s a long story so if you need to take a bathroom break you had better go right now.

Raised in a Raider Nation

It was around 1972, or 73 and I was about five, my Parents where both professional musicians at the time. They played in a band called the Reflections, even pumping out a couple of singles too.

Maybe you’ve heard a few of they’re hits, Skyjack and Funky Monkey Eyes. Probably not, but I digress.

They were playing at a hotel lounge called the Edgewater West in Oakland, frequented by Raider players and their girl friends.

The Reflections, apparently, were quite popular back then as my mother tells me that people waited in long lines, some times in the rain, just to see them play.

I don’t know if any of you like to listen to live music but if you did, you’d probably know that after a couple drinks the patrons could get a little friendly with the band.

At the Edgewater West lounge, the clientele were no exception.

Let’s just say, my parents were very popular with the players and their girl friends so as you can imagine certain loyalties would be encouraged. My parents, however, never went to any of their games, as they were usually excessively tired on Sunday mornings after a LONG gig the night before. Trust me though; they did receive plenty of invitations.

Now you might be asking yourself, how do the Raiders hanging out at a nightclub have anything to do with becoming a 49ers fan?

Well, it’s complicated. During the 1970’s the Raiders were an exciting team to watch. They had names for their games like the Heidi Game, the Sea of Hands, the Immaculate Reception, and the Holy Roller, not to mention they had a pirate for a mascot. As a kid, I couldn't resist such character and history.

It wouldn’t take too long before I would encounter another storybook franchise, but my metamorphosis would be slow. After winning Super Bowl XI, 32 to 14 against the Minnesota Vikings in 1977 my curiosity with the Raiders began to wane.

The Dog Pound’s Cardiac Kids

I was heart broken when Raider’s head coach John Madden retired in 1978. Then, in 1980, my two favorite players, Ken Stabler and Dave Casper, were traded to the Houston Oilers.

I think the hardest blow, however, came when Al Davis moved the team to Los Angeles in 1982. My family moving back east would only exasperate the situation further.

In the summer of 1978, my Parents had decided to pack up the Family Truckster, really a 16’ moving truck, and venture east, back to their roots, back to the Glass City known as Toledo, Ohio.

Now living in Ohio, my father decided it was time to switch back to his favorite team growing up, the Cleveland Browns. The Browns where known as the Cardiac Kids back then, for their crazy last minute, come from behind victories.

It’s really a blur, but my Dad, some how, convinced me to become a Brown’s fan along side him, losing much sleep in the process. My infatuation with the Cleveland Browns, however, wouldn’t last long. See below…

1980 - AFC Divisional Playoff loss to the Oakland Raiders, 14 to 12.
1982 - First Round Playoff loss to the Los Angeles Raiders, 27 to 10.
1985 - AFC Divisional Playoff loss to Miami Dolphins, 24 to 21.

In 1981, I would reluctantly cheer for the Raiders once more. With a former Niner, Jim Plunkett under center, they would be the Cinderella story that season, beating the Eagles 27 to 10 in Super Bowl XV.

Discovering Camelot

It wouldn’t be until 1982, in Super Bowl XVI, that a new underdog would grab my attention. That’s right, the 49ers.

Living in Ohio, most people where Bengal’s fans as you might imagine, and the topic leading up to the game was how bitter Bill Walsh was for being passed over as Bengal’s head coach and how this game would become a heated battle.

I didn’t know who Bill Walsh was at the time, but I knew I was getting sick of watching the Brown’s lose more close games than they had won and the Raiders where sporadic at best. Therefore, half-heartedly, I cheered for the 49ers for the first time.

I had always been curious about the 49ers ever since I was a little kid, but with the exception of the early 1970’s, the 49ers just weren’t that good and couldn’t keep my attention.

I would follow the Niners through out the play-offs, however, eventually leading up to the 1982 NFC Championship game against the Cowboys. That game and that Catch would grab my admiration, as they would defeat the Cowboys in storybook fashion and move on to the Super Bowl.

After beating the Bengals 26 to 21, the 49ers were Super Bowl Champions, and I was vulnerable. I convinced myself that since I was a bay area native that it wasn’t really jumping the bandwagon, but joining the cause.

With my last name being Knight, it would be easy to relate to the whole Camelot analogy. Therefore, I would become a 49ers fan and all was good.

Except for an epigrammatic time during the ’83 season on their way to Super Bowl XVIII in 1984, I would never root for the Raiders as a hard-core fan again.

It was their last Super Bowl victory, blowing out the Washington Redskins 38 to nine.

A 49ers Home Coming

I had a good run with the Raiders but by 1985, my father and I had both walked the plank to jump on the 49ers bandwagon. It was at that time my family had relocated back to the bay area, to a small town called Cupertino.

After living in Toledo for six years, the bay area seemed like Hollywood in comparison. I felt like I was living in the movie Fast Times at Ridge Mont High, which came out about the same time.

I was now a senior at Monta Vista High School. It had a modern campus with every amenity one would expect for such a prestigious student body, and they even had their own smoking section.

While hanging out at this illegal recreational area on the high school campus, a girl’s t-shirt caught my eye. It read “Go Forty F*****G Niners!” I can't recall her name but the colorful slogan would stick in my head.

The 49ers, of course, man handled the overly hyped Dan Marino and his Miami Dolphins in Super Bowl XIX, 38 to nine.

The Dolphins couldn't stop Super Bowl MVP Joe Montana (24/35, 331 yards passing, 59 yards rushing, 4 total touchdowns), Roger Craig (58 yards rushing, 77 yards receiving, 3 total touchdowns), and Dwight Clark (6 receptions for 77 yards).

The 49ers played that game in Stanford, California at Stanford Stadium, and quite possibly had the closest to home field advantage any team would ever have in a Super Bowl.

The bay area was like a festival, and with the Raiders now in LA, everyone wanted to be a 49ers fan, it was awesome.

Establishing a Dynasty

With the additions of Jerry Rice, Steve Young and Brent Jones, my father and I would witness the birth of a dynasty, winning back-to-back championships (Super Bowl XXIII & XXIV).

Maybe, as football fans, we were spoiled, but we were thankful too. My Raider friends being jealous, couldn’t stand my bravado in discussing the 49ers, and stopped inviting me to parties and barbeques.

Luckily, most of my family converted over. My aunt and uncle were former Cowboys fans, and my Grandmother, who hadn’t been a football fan prior, hopped along for the ride.

In 1995, the 49ers delivered their 5th Super Bowl victory, beating San Diego, 49 to 26. Steve Young had six touchdowns, which surpassed the previous Super Bowl record of five, held by his predecessor, Joe Montana.

Young was the MVP of Super Bowl XXIX, passing for 325 yards and rushing for 49, making him the first quarterback to lead in both rushing and passing yards in a Super Bowl.

Young had an awesome season, throwing for 3,969 yards, a then franchise record 35 touchdown passes.

He also completed a franchise record 70.28 percent of his passes, breaking Montana's single season mark with a then record 112.8 passer rating. Steve Young became the NFL MVP for a second time.

Even though I was happy for their success, those memories in 1995 would be bitter sweet.

Keeping the Dream Alive

My aunt had died of cancer in October of 1992 and now my dad would fall victim to the disease as well. After complaining of lower back pain, his doctors would discover that he had contracted multiple myeloma.

While he was undergoing treatment, my dad and I would talk about the upcoming season and possibly going to a game together as soon as he got better. My father never did get better though, passing away only a few short months later in late September of 1995.

Losing not just my aunt to cancer, but my father as well, was especially hard to bear. I would still watch games with my grandmother for the next ten years, but I would eventually lose her as well.

She would die from complications resulting from a stroke in May of 2005. It was hard to watch games the following season, even a 49er victory wouldn’t help soften the blow. For brief moments, those recollections could be unbearable.

My family never did take me to a 49ers game but these days I make an effort to go as much as possible for their sake. It’s hard not to notice them missing on game days, but I like to think they are watching along with us, wherever they are.

Now a days it’s just my sister, along with my two young nephews, who wave the 49ers colors with me.

Other fans have different stories, and different ways of celebrating, but my account is personal and runs deep. All fantasies aside, Camelot means much more to me then just some Cinderella story.

To me Camelot is a commemoration of times gone by that will never fade and will reside forever within my heart and consciousness.

The hope of every 49ers fan is that some day Camelot will rise again and a new Dynasty will be born. When that day comes, I’ll know they’ll be watching and cheering by our side.

To be continued...