So, the bitterness over yet another too-little-too-late comeback attempt still looms large, but looming larger is this wicked, come-to-Jesus hangover I inflicted on myself.  Let's do shots, she says.  Ok, I say.  Ugh.  At least my head stopped pounding, and now the world has kind of gone all soft focus.  My brain feels stupid and it's very challenging to finish a sentence.  And for some reason, my husband is letting me play with knives and chop things.  Which brings me to the purpose of this post:

Recipes!  On a football blog!  Oh suck it up, I don't actually expect you people to cook any of this, and my brain is too out of it to talk about my trip to Green Bay last week.  So read on, or not, whatever.  I'm just killing time while my giblets boil.

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So, I'm pretty convinced that I should just sell my ticket to the Green Bay game in two weeks.  I am now 1-8 at Niners games.  It's a great seat, I could probably make a profit on it.  But heart wins over head, cheering for my flailing team, bleah bleah bleah.

Last Saturday, I checked into the Crown Plaza in Indianapolis, which is within spitting distance of Lucas.  Also within spitting distance are many, many bars, including the Wild Beaver, the Slippery Noodle, and the Ugly Monkey.  I enjoyed the hospitality of all of them (and others) and I wound up injuring myself.  It happens.  Sometimes.  One second you're dancing your ass off, and the next, you're telling a member of the American Armed Forces to "step off, soldier" as he's trying to help you off the bar floor.  Bless him. 

I spent the first half of the Niners/Colts game in the ER at Methodist Hospital, and I have to say that their ER is very efficient!  Unless you have a game to attend, I guess the ER people think that if you're going to a football game, the Colts will wait until all fans are in attendance to start.  I must say that this is not the case.  The game started without me.  And we took a lead, against the undefeated Indianapolis Colts, with freakin' PEYTON MANNING at QB, without me there.  I got there at the very end of the second quarter, right when VD got his TD.  Woo, Niners!

I left Lucas Oil at the 2 minute warning (remember, I was injured), and...ok, Colts Fans, if you're reading this, you need to set me straight.  But here's my impression of you folks.  "Yeah, another Colts win, yeah, that's pretty cool, I guess, whatever."  You guys are the Jay Cutler of fans.  You are some blase' mofos.  I actually picked up that some of you were pissed off that you only beat us by 4.  Well, let me lay some church on you assholes.

Every win is a blessing.  Every GAME is a blessing.  You have a quarterback who will  be spoken of in the same sentences as Joe Montana and Steve Young and, yes, the ubiquitous Brent Farve (hee).  So give Pey Pey a break.  He might not have had a TD in that game, but he is still Peyton F&ck*ng Manning, and don't you have some Patriots to beat in the next couple weeks?  Can't hurt you to get fired up after a 4 point win, right?  Ugh.  What the hell is wrong with you people.  Get fired up.  Excitement is not zero sum.  Ugh.

I'm pissed off that we're 3-5 right now, but I'm encouraged by our losses this season.  The Vikings are Superbowl contenders, as are the Colts.  As for the Texans and the Titans?  We just got outplayed.  The Falcons blowout was a fluke.  I don't see Singletary as a fix for all of the myriad problems we've had going into this season, but at least we now have something to play for.  We have somebody to play for.  We have somebody to prove ourselves to.  And I need to send an e-mail to my 11th grade English teacher to remind me how to properly finish a prepositional phrase.

I still believe in Sing, and if this year's not the year, then it's next year.

Rock over London, Rock on Chicago. 

It's so hard to fight back the bitterness of this loss.  I'm superstitious enough to think that I shouln't go to another game, ever, considering my record is 1-7 at Niners games. Maybe their crap streak is my fault.  Who knows?

Allow me to start from the beginning.  I drove up to Minnesota on Friday.  It was a long drive.  I took my husbands car, the Packers Mobile, and it gets great gas mileage.  However, compared to the Niners Mobile, it has all the maneuverability of an aircraft carrier while having the power of a go cart.

Also, for a relatively small state, Iowa is freakin HUUUUGE.  But Iowa has a wind farm, and that made my trip.  I've got a thing for wind mills.  They're awesome.  Anyway.

Friday night, I hung out with an ex-boyfriend of mine and a couple of my husband's college buddies who happen to live in Minneapolis.  Eat, drink, be merry, etc.  Fun night.  I am staying at Seven Corners, and on each of those corners is a bar.  I'm down with it.  Until about 6 hours ago, I loved Minneapolis.

Yesterday, I spent in bed, hating life.  Went to a lovely dinner, woo hoo, rock on.

This morning, oh so bright, so pretty, such a gorgeous day, so full of possibilities.

Ahh, the "Minnesota Nice".  What they're famed for, right?  Being nice?  Well, when Frank Gore was carted off the field, those bastards cheered, and the feel-good aura faded.  Seriously--who cheers when somebody is carted off of the field?  Vikings fans, that's who.  And it pissed me off.  And I'm still pissed off about that.  Doesn't matter if we're playing the Cowboys, or the effing Third Reich.  One does not cheer when a player is carted off the field. 

And then things happened, and we looked good, and then they looked good, and then we looked good again...

And then we lost.  Thanks to Grampa Favre and his bag of Werthers Originals.  I've seen it a couple times at Lambeau.  When there is no hope, when he knows that the world is closing in around him, Favre pulls a win out of his bag of caramels.  And hey, if he weren't a gigantic traitor, I might be happy for him.

I'm trying to do the "moral victory" thing.  I've talked to my mom, my husband, and my best friend--all of whom are all like "Hey, yay Niners, could have been a lot worse, right?"  But just like the old maxim "a win is a win", a loss is a loss is a loss.  And it suuuuucks.

It's a deep burn, especially coming so close to that win in that loud-ass dome with those dumb-ass fair-weather fans.  Cold comfort: we play the Rams next week, and the Rams better stretch out, and stretch well, because I have a feeling we'll itch for retribution. And we'll get it.

No matter how deep the burn, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how angry I am right now--there's always next week.

Cold comfort is still some comfort.  Go Niners.

Hi there, my name is Sara.  I'm a married 30 year old Niners fan, displaced and living in St. Louis.  I like American microbrewed beer, big dogs, prohibitively expensive shoes, and of course, football!

I'm known in my office to be a maniacal fan.  My cube, year round, is an homage to the Niners.  From my spent ticket stubs to my postcards of San Francisco, from my game day pins to my red and gold piggy bank, my loyalties are apparent.  Since I live in St. Louis, I am surrounded by THE BEST FANS IN BASEBALL (tm) but the absolute worst fans in football.  "How can you cheer for the Niners?  They've sucked for like 5 years straight!"  My answer is usually something along the lines of, "It's not a choice but something I was born into.  Doesn't matter if the Niners never have another winning season, they're still my team.  So step the *&$! off."

As much as I'm going to miss looking at Mike Nolan*, Singletary's promotion is the best thing that's happened to the 49ers in years.  Shaun Hill is no Brett Favre, but he is a solid game manager who makes very few mistakes.  Our defense looks fierce, and Joe Nedney is a stud kicker.  I'm way happier to have a decent kicker than I should be--I haven't forgotten Jose Cortez and Owen *$#&@$% Pochman.  Oh, my yells of outrage at those two used to scare the hell out of my dog, I was not sad to see the back of the lot of them.

My hope is somewhat legitimized because his hard-nosed leadership seems to have some effect on our ragtag group of misfits as well as our proven, Pro Bowl caliber players.  I still remember the Dropping of Pants Heard around the World and the immediate change in Vernon Davis' attitude and performance.  Sing is a bad ass, and he expects the same level of badassitry from his guys.  And I think--I don't know if this is the season, but this year is the start of something great.  I can feel it.

Earlier this year, I made the executive decision to go to as many 49ers games this year as possible.  Looked at the map, checked out the schedule, and decided that I could feasibly do four:  Minnesota, Indy, Green Bay, and St. Louis.

It's finally here--it's finally Football season.  I've saved up my pennies and vacation days, and now it's time.  Tomorrow, I drive up to the great white north, up to the land of wild rice soup and snow in October and malls the size of cities and a billion lakes or something.  I'm going to experience the much-fabled "Minnesota Nice" first hand, though, I wonder how nice they'll be after three hours stuck in a dome with me.  Taunting certainly isn't my style, win or lose.  However, being very loud and cheering at every first down *is* my style, as is drinking copious amounts of luke-warm beer that costs more per ounce than gold. 

So, I don't really know if this post has a point.  I'm killing time at work, clock watching very hard, jumping out of my skin with excitement, excitement about exploring a new town and watching my team battle with Grampa Favre and Purple Jesus (Adrian Peterson).  Excitement about the prospect of a winning season.  Excitement about what's to come, both immediately and over the next few months.

GO NINERS!

*My best friend (who is also a die-hard Niners fan) and I call Mike Nolan "Sexpot".  He might have been a terrible head coach, but my God can that man wear a suit.  Rawr.