So Drew Brees used to play quarterback for the San Diego Chargers, and now he’s going to the Super Bowl. So I have to root for him?
Give me one good reason why.
Did I root for Dave Winfield in the World Series after he left the Padres to join the New York Yankees? Was I supposed to do cartwheels when San Diego’s own Cole Hamels led the Philadelphia Phillies to the World Championship?
We have a lot of problems as San Diego sports fans, and here’s another one: we feel like we have to get behind any athlete who’s either from here or played here whenever they have a chance to win a championship with someone else.
The key phrase there is “with someone else.” As in some other team in some other city. Personally, I’m getting a little tired of it.
Sure Brees is a super guy, and sure he comes back to San Diego in the off-season, and sure he’s still a solid part of our community (he has taken over Stan Humphries’ yearly celebrity golf tournament at Morgan Run). But he no longer plays for our team.
If he’s able to lead the New Orleans Saints to their first Super Bowl championship, good for him. But what good will it do any of us?
San Diego, the city of no championships (unless they’re 12-or-under), has trotted out dozens and dozens of great athletes for the rest of the sporting world to enjoy. Marcus Allen won a Super Bowl for the Raiders. Terrell Davis won one for our friends in Denver. Troy Glaus won a World Series for the Angels. Bill Walton dominated college basketball for UCLA.
Somehow we’re supposed to be excited by that? Junior Seau never could win anything here, so he spent the last two or three years of his career trying to win his championship in New England. Didn’t happen. But, ooooh, I would have felt so proud.
Rodney Harrison took the same route, and he did win his Super Bowl ring. But when he rode in the victory parade he was nowhere near Harbor Boulevard.
To a certain extent, I do like to follow the careers of some of the star athletes we produce. Rachael Flatt learned how to ice skate in UTC and now is the 2010 U.S. Figure Skating champion. Michael Chang, the pride of San Dieguito High, once won the French Open Tennis Championship. Jimmy Johnson drove in El Cajon before taking over NASCAR.
Our Hall of Champions in Balboa Park features as many star athletes as most any other big city. Ted Williams, who grew up here, might be the greatest hitter who ever lived. Tony Gwynn, who’d be in the discussion, played at San Diego State and now is the school’s baseball coach.
Greg Louganis was one hell of a diver and took home a bunch of Gold Medals. Shaun White has enough Winter X-Games hardware to open his own wing. Dennis Conner brought us the America’s Cup.
But still nobody has brought us a championship. And Brees isn’t bringing us one, either. Nor is Reggie Bush, who starred on our high school fields before claiming a Heisman Trophy at USC, and now will join Brees in his championship quest.
Of course, when you haven’t won anything, your options are limited. We can’t discuss championships with fans from L.A. or New York or Boston, because frankly, we don’t know the feeling.
But we can chirp proudly about the championships our athletes have won elsewhere. It’s the only device left to us. Marshall Faulk went to San Diego State and won a Super Bowl title in St. Louis. Take that, Rams fans!
Stephen Strasburg was college baseball’s top player a year ago, and we were lucky to get to see him pitch. The day he leads the Washington Nationals to the World Series — he’ll probably beat the Padres on his way — maybe we’ll have some sense of satisfaction.
But I’m not so sure we should.
I’d like the save my celebration for the championship that’s won for us. If the Saints win one this year, I’ll feel like my emotions have been left out, twisting in the breeze.
– Ello –
