Fat Boy Doesn’t Get His Pizza, You’ve Got A Problem Belichick!
Ok, so this isn’t exactly related to the Wait Till Next Year Fantasy Football League, but I just had to share my personal hatred for Bill Belichick. Unlike many in recent years, my distaste has nothing to do with his time in New England.
No, my post-traumatic stress disorder goes way back to his time as a defensive coordinator for the New York Giants. As a 49ers fan, born in 1980, watching my favorite team win was like a birth right. Before I turned one year of age, the 49ers had won their first championship the winter before, and it was a tradition for friends and family to come over and watch those allegedly “weak” teams beat the piss out of the rest of the league.
Championships, oh yeah, and it really didn’t seem to matter to any of us that most of the country hated our guts; our boys kept winning and that’s just the way it was.
Business As Usual, Or Was It?
Then the 1991 NFC Championship game happened and I’m not sure I can say I’ve ever been the same since.
Now the 49ers and Giants have had some big games over the years, and just like our crushing defeat to them in the 2012 NFC Championship game, there have been some gut wrenching defeats handed to us from Big Blue.
Back in the winter of 1991 I was ten years old, living in San Jose, California, and you might say I was a bit on the husky side.
Like many big games at that point in my life, the family got together over at my Grandpa’s house as we waited to findout if the 49ers were headed to their third Super Bowl in as many years.
Good times for sure, but we knew this wasn’t going to be like the blowout victory we enjoyed back in 1981 (talked about in the book, The Games That Changed The Game, by Ron Jaworski), no, this was likely to be a hard-hitting contest and close.
The game was tight, but heading into the fourth quarter the 49ers had the lead and appeared to be in control. At that point some of the family members started discussing what we would do for a Super Bowl party and as a youngster of course I started to get my hopes up.
Balloons, cake and pizza were all on the table as options for a grand Super Bowl party and with Joe Montana leading the way, it seemed like a given the 49ers would win this home game, pushing on to face the Bills high scoring offense.
Then the quarter from hell started as Montana was drilled in the back by Lenard Marshall and was taken out of the game, basically knocked unconscious from the hit.
Steve Young filled in but because he was a left-handed quarterback, it set up a poor exchange on a handoff to Roger Craig who fumbled with under three minutes left.
Down by two points, the Giants only needed to move the chains a couple times, kill the clock and then set up a game winning field goal. Sure enough that bastard kicker Matt Bahr converted on the 42-yard attempt and I can still remember standing on my Grandpa’s lawn too afraid to see what would happen on the television set.
The End Of An Era
This would be the final game for 49ers greats like Ronnie Lott and Roger Craig in San Francisco. While Joe Montana stayed with the team for two more years, he was out for a full season after that hit with back problems, and only played in clean up duty for one final game in the 1992 season.
Who Gives A Rip
While that’s sad and all, to a ten year old it wasn’t so much the loss that hurt the most, it was never having that Super Bowl party because our team was out. Now, I’ll admit I’ve backed off my love for pizza a bit in my later years, but back then it was by far my favorite food.
If there was one thing you didn’t dangle in front of me and then take away, it was pizza. Not having that Super Bowl party cost me the chance to have a good portion of that cheesy goodness with pepperoni on top!
Perhaps I should have focused my rage and resentment towards Bill Parcels because he was the head coach. While it still makes me sick to see the replay of that fat ass smiling on the hollowed Candlestick grounds, dancing to his hearts content, fatty has actually grown on me over the years so I’ll let him pass.
No, it’s Belichick I hold responsible because he was the defensive coordinator and let’s face it, the guy is just better than Tuna as a coach. Who knows if Parcels would’ve ever won a championship without the help of Belichick but he sure couldn’t seal a playoff victory without him in Dallas.
My hatred for Belichick burns deep to this day; he can keep his championship, but dammit I want my pizza! I’m sure it will never happen, but until this debt is paid (Belichick buying me a pizza), I’m never going to forgive him for taking away a lost memory of pizza goodness from my childhood.
In short, screw you Belichick!