Viva Los Chargers!

Hallelujah! My beloved Chargers, those of the best record in the NFL last year, are back in form. With the 35-10 home shellacking of the Houston Texans today, after a week of wildfire distraction no less, they are back on track to be a force come playoff time. For 5 games this season, all Charger fans were forced to watch a team that wore Chargers uniforms, but were merely a shell of the team that went 14-2 last year and should have ended up in the Super Bowl, or at the very least in the AFC Championship Game. It was terrible and conjured up memories of every San Diego sports failure over the past 50 years.

It seems that every time there are expectations attached to a San Diego sports club, the team folds like the Argentine army in '82. It's uncanny how much of a guarantee that is. And when there aren't any expectations, the teams just plain stink. There is absolutely no middle of the road for a San Diego sports fan. None. We fans are either given great hope, only for the team to get slaughtered when it matters most, or they are the league doormat, getting walked on by the rest of the league. Yes indeed, pledging your allegiance to a team here in SD is tantamount to giving up hope of ever being part of a championship celebration and saying "You know what, I think I'll just pick a city to support where I know I won't ever have to worry about buying all that knick-knack sports title memorabilia." It's awfully satisfying, let me tell ya. Yeah, satisfying like a kick in the nuts.

Before this season began, I tried to tell myself that although the Chargers have arguably as much talent as anyone else in the NFL, there is no guarantee that they will waltz into the Super Bowl, as some pundits had alluded to. Still, my instincts told me that the odds were stacked in our favor. Those of you that are avid sports fans know how it works. When your team has high expectations to start a season, you mentally go back and forth between belief and doubt. With every article you read, you get psyched up about the upcoming season, but the lingering pain of past disappointment forces doubt into your mind. No matter how much you try to tell yourself not to get into a vulnerable position by believing too much, you still are, at heart, a fan that wants so very badly to win a championship. Therefore, it's impossible to remove yourself from the freeway of despair. You just stand there, eyes closed, hoping that instead of the 18 wheeler of pain crushing you like a fly on its windshield, you'll be embraced by the sweet angels of glory and whisked away to championshipville. And here in San Diego we've never had a major sports championship, so the mere thought of seeing the Chargers win the Super Bowl almost brings a tear to my eye. I'm not a man that cries very often, but I've told my wife that if (hopefully, when) a team in San Diego takes the ultimate prize she will see me cry. I doubt I'll ball like a little girl with a skinned knee, but there will be some welling, possibly followed by a trip to the restroom where I can let it all out in peace, without having to lose my dignity. Like I said, when I actually take a few moments to project myself to a place in my head when the Chargers have won the Super Bowl, I start to get a bit teary eyed. I've made the mistake of letting this happen at work once or twice, and it was pretty uncomfortable. I spent 30 seconds trying to dry my eyes and figure out what the hell I would tell one of my employees if they saw me with tears in my eyes. Thank God nobody actually saw me in this pathetic state, but if they had one of my distant relatives would have died a horrible death, at least as far as the person I was explaining to was concerned. Pathetic.

So that's life as a San Diego sports fan, people. I'm thrilled at how the Bolts are playing right now, but who knows what I'll be saying after next week's game in Minnesota. The team will be favored to win, so there is certainly a let down possibility, but I remain optimistic in the face of everything I've seen in the past. Call me dumb, call me naive, but don't call me apathetic. Go Bolts!