Hope, Lies, and Heartbreak

I've always been a believer; there are times when pessimism and doubt take over, but at the end of the day, I find myself believing, even when there is nothing to believe in.  I believe that no odds are insurmountable, that no goal is unreachable, that no dream is impossible.  I believe in miracles - in the underdog that never gives up, that continues to fight for the one thing that matters more to him than anything else in the world, that, in the end, finds the inner courage and strength to defeat the evil giant standing in his way. I believe that good will always defeat evil - that the world is just and righteous and will reward those pure of heart.  


I'm sure everyone has fond memories of chasing the love of their lives.  The times spent pondering and speculating, dreaming about what could be and what should be. The anticipation and excitement keeping you up Saturday night (or Sunday night, or Wednesday night, or Friday night, or even on the night before certain holidays!).  Waking up and jumping out of bed, despite it being Sunday morning, with the gut feeling that today was the day - that the beginning of a dream could be realized.  The superstitious rituals before the big event - Are you wearing your lucky sock?  Is your shirt the right color?  The hype and anxiety going into just seeing them for a few hours.  We all know how great that feels.

But when do we stop believing in the perfect universe?  Where does the truth end and where do the illusions begin?  How many times can the heart be lied to and broken before it refuses to care?  How long can one fight for his dream without any sign of fruition in sight?  Ultimately, when do we give up?  We all say that we should never give up, but, if time and time again, your dreams are shot down and your heart-held beliefs revealed as lies, what do you do then?  Do you continue to get back up against all common sense?  Or do you give up and move onto other things in life?


Ah, the bad memories.  The pain felt from being let down, from being heartbroken and crushed.  You knew it was coming, but you just couldn't help but believe - that maybe, just maybe, fate could slip up a bit and tear down that wall of insurmountable odds.  You've believed before - and you've been disappointed before - but that didn't stop you from believing again, did it?  Your heart has a short memory - it always comes back for more.  But when has it had enough?


And yes, I'm talking about the 49ers.  (If you haven't at least guessed at that by now, you really should stop reading this blog post and go watch a Korean drama or something.. seriously, stop reading this.)  No, it hasn't been 80 something years like the Red Sox, but it sure feels like it - and hey, who's been alive that long anyway?  Ever since I started following them in 2002, it's been lie after lie and disappointment after disappointment.  Let's break it down, shall we?


We were told upon the departure of Jeff Garcia that Tim Rattay would be the answer.  One 2-14 season later.. obviously not.  


We were told after passing over Aaron Rodgers, at the dismay of many Cal fans, that Alex Smith would be the answer.  We were told that the suit-wearing Mike Nolan would follow in his father's footsteps and lead us to greatness once again.  After they finished the 2005 and 2006 campaigns with strong wins at the end, we began to believe that they were onto something - that maybe this was finally it.  


One disappointing 2007 season later, obviously not.  The suit's powers demystified, Alex Smith injured, hearts broken again, and another team MVP award to kicker Joe Nedney.


We were told after this that Shaun Hill was the answer.  We were then quickly told otherwise with the sudden appearance of journeyman J.T. O'Sullivan in the preseason.  We were told that O'Sullivan was going to be the answer and after he became the first 49er since forever to throw for 300+ yards, we believed them.  We believed again and we let our hearts get attached when we should have known better.  Our brains warned us against this, but our hearts just wanted to dream and believe.  One humiliating six game losing streak, one coach firing, one shower-call, one pants-dropping, and a bajillion turnovers later, we were crushed once again.  We hit rock bottom - disappointed almost beyond repair.


And then, they tried to make us believe again.  We were made to believe that O'Sullivan was just an aberration - that Shaun Hill was still the answer - that coupled with Singletary's tough, no nonsense, smash-mouth, run-first style of play, we would once again be an elite team.  After a few wins to close 2008 and a season-opening win in Arizona, we believed them again.  Why?  Because that's what a heart does.  It gets hurt and it gets punched in the gut, but at the end of the day, it comes back for more.  By now, our brains were begging for mercy, but our hearts just had to dream once more - to ponder over what could be and what should be - to fill with optimism and excitement, forgetting the pain of the past.  And, of course, a few frustrating and embarassing losses later, we were heartbroken once again.


But, as you all know so well, the 49ers were not done.  They tried to make us believe that Alex Smith was the answer - that a spread, pass-first, offense would lead us to greatness - that this wasn't the old Alex Smith, no.  This was the new Alex Smith and he had finally channeled the great quarterback in him.  This time, we didn't even have time to believe.  We all knew not to get attached so easily, yet in each of those close losses against Peyton Manning, the once-passed-over Aaron Rodgers, and now Seattle - we still felt the pain.  Our spirits - already shattered into pieces - were thoroughly stomped over and crushed into dust.


But this won't be the end.  No.  The faith will always come back.  That's what fans do.  They find ways to believe in the darkest hour.  It's why they still show up in sub-zero temperatures to cheer on their last-place team in a meaningless game.  Nothing will ever change that - no matter how many times our hearts get broken - even if it's a hundred years before the team we love makes the playoffs, we'll always care.  We'll always get our hopes up.  The same goes for just about every miserable team in the Bay Area - the perennial playoff choking Sharks, the Bonds-less Giants, the we-like-to-get-high-early-season-rankings-only-to-choke-and-fall-off-the-face-of-the-earth Bears, and... okay, maybe not the Warriors - they just suck - but you get the idea.  


Some random dude somewhere at some point in time said "It is better to have love and lost than to not have loved at all." Yeah.. that dude was weird.  But he (or she... or it) brings up a good question, is it really better?  Are we truly better off having invested so much of our hearts into something that has given us nothing in return?   Or is this a bitter and painful curse that we are doomed to suffer from for the rest of our lives?  That's for you to decide.