Young Cincy Girl Eases Superbowl XXIII Suffering By Becoming Fan

NFL fans remember Superbowl XXIII as one of the most exciting Superbowls of all time.  Christina LaRosa, 10 years old at the time, remembers it as the moment she became a Cincinnati Bengals fan—in the hope of escaping the lonely pain of having no one with whom she could share her suffering.  If that sounds a little heavy for a third grader, it was—but so was the trauma of watching the fourth quarter from the stands at Joe Robbie Stadium on January 22, 1989.

Even though the Bengals clearly weren’t the favorite, Miss LaRosa and her family were in high spirits as they boarded their flight to Miami the morning of the game. The fact that the Bengals were even in the Superbowl felt like a victory, especially on the heels of the hellish 1987 regular season.  “Being the underdog means we have no expectations,” she heard her uncle remark.  Her dad agreed with the reassuring thoughts: “No expectations means no disappointment.”   

But these level-headed sentiments started to crumble early.  She learned from the third play—thanks to Tim Krumrie’s staggering injury—that it is in fact possible for a human ankle to twist almost 180 degrees.  By halftime, when the heavily favored 49ers were forced to retreat to the locker room tied 3-3, all semblance of a reasoned approach had vanished.  Winning seemed within reach—devastatingly within reach, that is.  Caution had apparently been forgotten, as her family was plotting to delay their flight until the following morning in order to celebrate in the streets of Miami until dawn.

A 43-yard field goal by Jim Breech early in the third quarter awarded the Bengals their first lead of the game—and gave Miss LaRosa the opportunity to learn that caution should be exercised when throwing celebratory confetti near neighboring cups of beer that had been obtained at great expense.  Although her dad escaped being punched, he spent the rest of the third quarter in line buying a replacement for the neighbor’s ruined beer.  Which means he missed seeing the Bengals score the first touchdown of the game with Stanford Jennings’s 93-yard kickoff return in the last minute of the third quarter.

Unfortunately, all of these mini-tribulations paled in comparison to the fourth quarter.  When the 49ers tied the game with a touchdown one play after Bengal Lewis Billups dropped an almost-intercepted pass in the end zone, Miss LaRosa felt her heart lurch in her chest.  Eyes brimming with tears, she pleaded with her dad, “They aren’t going to be mean to him now, are they?”  

The tears, of course, spilled over in the final 3:10, when Joe Montana tapped into his despised coolness and led the 49ers on a 92-yard drive culminating with a game-winning touchdown with only 34 seconds left.  With only a childish understanding of the concept of managing the clock, Miss LaRosa knew there wasn’t enough time to come back.  The ensuing post-traumatic stress blurred everything until the flight home—which was when she had her pivotal breakthrough.

Overcome with grief on the plane, Miss LaRosa took a moment to distract herself by glancing around at the other passengers.  On the faces of the sunburned, hoarse, and despondent orange and black-clothed fans, she recognized the same agony that she was feeling.  And at that moment, she didn’t feel alone.  She immediately vowed to call herself a Bengals fan, instinctively knowing that there would be a lot more suffering ahead.