True Colours
Many years ago a friend and I were discussing our sporting affiliations – the teams we follow and the colours we wear.
He reminded me of a comment that goes back generations; a father telling his son to “be very careful who you choose, it will be with you for the rest of your life.”
On October 31st 2010 I was sitting in Wembley Stadium, London, wearing the red and gold colours of the American Football team the San Francisco 49ers.
Wembley is around 400 miles from my Prestwick home on the west coast of Scotland, but that's a walk to the end of my street compared to the 5000+ miles of travel required to get to the 49ers true home.
But I've been lucky enough to make that trip too, on a number of occasions.
But why? As a Scot, there must be more obvious sporting choices, surely?
Absolutely.
I’m a supporter and follower of our national football (soccer) and rugby teams, and lived through the little moments of glory and the many – and I mean many – embarrassing defeats (a Scottish tradition).
National support is almost a given; most sports fans follow their national teams.
There are always exceptions to the expected sporting rules however.
For example I was born and bred in Ayrshire, the heart of links golf country, yet have no interest in playing the game. I’m with Mark Twain – it spoils a good walk.
But as regards being a true supporter of a given club or sporting franchise “the rest of your life” statement is a truism that has been proven time and again.
The bond between supporter and team can be as strong as family or friendships.
It can affect you emotionally, physically, mentally and definitely financially.
It may also provide incredible life-highs and forgettable lows, except you never truly forget the lows.
That’s all part of the emotional investment.
And that emotional investment took me to Wembley Stadium on October 31st 2010. Halloween night.
The Trick I was trying to pull off was the rare Treat of a San Francisco victory in a regular season game, something that had not exactly dominated 49ers game reports in the half dozen years or so prior to the Wembley expedition.
The game itself was the fourth annual NFL International Series fixture, a very well received event.
Although this particular 49ers home game didn’t involve over 10,000 miles of round travel it was still quite a cost in time, scheduling and money.
But I wouldn’t have been anywhere else on the planet that evening.
There are tens of thousands of Gridiron fans in the UK with passionate support for teams that are thousands of miles away, but for me it could only ever have been San Francisco.
And those red and gold ties binding me to the team and City by the Bay are based on what some will see as extraordinary mental and emotional connections...
As a child San Francisco and the Bay Area of California fascinated me.
I started to recognise landmarks and even streets of the city from reading about the area and watching TV programmes, holiday documentaries, movies etc.
Many can make the same sort of associations with a chosen locale, but this was a very strong affinity and familiarity. A number of recognitions were even intuitive, rather than via film or book.
Originally my favourite sport was, unsurprisingly, British football (soccer); I follow the Scottish Football League team Kilmarnock (from Ayrshire) and the English club Tottenham Hotspur, more commonly known as Spurs (based in north London).
The Kilmarnock connection is not overly surprising when you understand that I’m an Ayrshire boy born and bred, but how those footballing choices actually came about I'll touch on later.
By the mid-‘70s one of my favourite TV programmes was World of Sport.
Heavily biased towards British football, as would be expected, it did however feature many other sports including highlights from each year's American Football Super Bowl.
To a mid-teen who had never witnessed the game before it was like watching a modern-day gladiatorial combat; I was hooked from the first deep pass, darting run and helmet removing tackle.
But I didn’t associate with any of the teams.
Flash forward to 1982 and British television starts running a seasonal programme on Channel 4 featuring NFL football highlights, including live coverage of the Super Bowl.
I pick up on the fact there’s a team in San Francisco and before I know a thing about them, before I know if they are genuine challengers or perennial bottom feeders, I’ve pinned my colours to the mast, based on a familiarity and fondness for their home city (even though I had yet to visit the area).
When I watched those Super Bowl highlights in the mid to late ‘70s, the 49ers weren’t close to being a contender. Hence why I didn’t then associate the San Francisco team or city with American Football.
But it was very different in the 1980s. They won the 1981 season’s Super Bowl and would win another three in the next eight years.
By the mid-‘80s I was also hooked on the game itself and became as passionate about the sport as the team I supported. I played for the Ayr (subsequently Kilmarnock & Loudoun) Burners in the Pro-Am British American Football League for four years before coaching our under-18 team for another two.
In 1987 I made the first of two '80s trips to San Francisco for what are best described as football vacations. They were followed by a number of trips in the 1990’s and beyond with my then-partner now wife Anne who, at one time, lived in the Bay Area.
He reminded me of a comment that goes back generations; a father telling his son to “be very careful who you choose, it will be with you for the rest of your life.”
On October 31st 2010 I was sitting in Wembley Stadium, London, wearing the red and gold colours of the American Football team the San Francisco 49ers.
Wembley is around 400 miles from my Prestwick home on the west coast of Scotland, but that's a walk to the end of my street compared to the 5000+ miles of travel required to get to the 49ers true home.
But I've been lucky enough to make that trip too, on a number of occasions.
But why? As a Scot, there must be more obvious sporting choices, surely?
Absolutely.
I’m a supporter and follower of our national football (soccer) and rugby teams, and lived through the little moments of glory and the many – and I mean many – embarrassing defeats (a Scottish tradition).
National support is almost a given; most sports fans follow their national teams.
There are always exceptions to the expected sporting rules however.
For example I was born and bred in Ayrshire, the heart of links golf country, yet have no interest in playing the game. I’m with Mark Twain – it spoils a good walk.
But as regards being a true supporter of a given club or sporting franchise “the rest of your life” statement is a truism that has been proven time and again.
The bond between supporter and team can be as strong as family or friendships.
It can affect you emotionally, physically, mentally and definitely financially.
It may also provide incredible life-highs and forgettable lows, except you never truly forget the lows.
That’s all part of the emotional investment.
And that emotional investment took me to Wembley Stadium on October 31st 2010. Halloween night.
The Trick I was trying to pull off was the rare Treat of a San Francisco victory in a regular season game, something that had not exactly dominated 49ers game reports in the half dozen years or so prior to the Wembley expedition.
The game itself was the fourth annual NFL International Series fixture, a very well received event.
Although this particular 49ers home game didn’t involve over 10,000 miles of round travel it was still quite a cost in time, scheduling and money.
But I wouldn’t have been anywhere else on the planet that evening.
There are tens of thousands of Gridiron fans in the UK with passionate support for teams that are thousands of miles away, but for me it could only ever have been San Francisco.
And those red and gold ties binding me to the team and City by the Bay are based on what some will see as extraordinary mental and emotional connections...
As a child San Francisco and the Bay Area of California fascinated me.
I started to recognise landmarks and even streets of the city from reading about the area and watching TV programmes, holiday documentaries, movies etc.
Many can make the same sort of associations with a chosen locale, but this was a very strong affinity and familiarity. A number of recognitions were even intuitive, rather than via film or book.
Originally my favourite sport was, unsurprisingly, British football (soccer); I follow the Scottish Football League team Kilmarnock (from Ayrshire) and the English club Tottenham Hotspur, more commonly known as Spurs (based in north London).
The Kilmarnock connection is not overly surprising when you understand that I’m an Ayrshire boy born and bred, but how those footballing choices actually came about I'll touch on later.
By the mid-‘70s one of my favourite TV programmes was World of Sport.
Heavily biased towards British football, as would be expected, it did however feature many other sports including highlights from each year's American Football Super Bowl.
To a mid-teen who had never witnessed the game before it was like watching a modern-day gladiatorial combat; I was hooked from the first deep pass, darting run and helmet removing tackle.
But I didn’t associate with any of the teams.
Flash forward to 1982 and British television starts running a seasonal programme on Channel 4 featuring NFL football highlights, including live coverage of the Super Bowl.
I pick up on the fact there’s a team in San Francisco and before I know a thing about them, before I know if they are genuine challengers or perennial bottom feeders, I’ve pinned my colours to the mast, based on a familiarity and fondness for their home city (even though I had yet to visit the area).
When I watched those Super Bowl highlights in the mid to late ‘70s, the 49ers weren’t close to being a contender. Hence why I didn’t then associate the San Francisco team or city with American Football.
But it was very different in the 1980s. They won the 1981 season’s Super Bowl and would win another three in the next eight years.
By the mid-‘80s I was also hooked on the game itself and became as passionate about the sport as the team I supported. I played for the Ayr (subsequently Kilmarnock & Loudoun) Burners in the Pro-Am British American Football League for four years before coaching our under-18 team for another two.
In 1987 I made the first of two '80s trips to San Francisco for what are best described as football vacations. They were followed by a number of trips in the 1990’s and beyond with my then-partner now wife Anne who, at one time, lived in the Bay Area.
Getty Images
My first trip to the Bay Area and San Francisco certainly seemed to prove my (affinity) point.
‘Strangers in a strange town’ should have been an apt phrase, considering neither my friend John McGuigan or I had been to the United States before (John is another gridiron fan and supporter of the Tennessee Titans, although at that time the franchise was still the Houston Oilers).
Blind leading the blind? Should have been, but once we entered the city proper I immediately felt ridiculously comfortable – we had the usual street maps and tourist guides but I don’t recall using one.
I instinctively knew where to go or which direction to head to get to a specific place.
Before someone shouts “reincarnation!” I must state for the record I don’t believe in such transference of soul theories but do, however, believe there is a lot more to remote viewing (past, present and future) and ancestral memory than meets the mind. But that would be a whole other Muirsing.
Because of my affinity to the Bay Area I also find myself following the results of other teams from the area, such as the Stanford Cardinal college football team.
Interestingly, my wife Anne had danced at Stanford University in the mid-'80s (during half-time at an East v. West college Shrine game) as part of a Highland Dance troupe.
Not so much California coincidences as further connections.
The best example though is the San Francisco Giants, even although I am no great fan of baseball.
As I was writing this article, the Giants were celebrating their first World Series victory as a San Francisco franchise. I wish I could have been part of the celebrations but that’s the call of the area, not the sport.
Sporting affiliations closer to home were certainly not chosen through any affinity with the town of Kilmarnock or the city of London.
Kilmarnock are an Ayrshire team but the reason I started to follow them was because throughout Primary (pre-teens) School a classmate of mine was Andrew MacLeod, son of the late Alistair ‘Ally’ MacLeod, then manager of Ayr United. Kilmarnock’s local rival.
But my support for 'Killie' wasn’t through any dislike of Andrew or his dad. Far from it.
Andy and I were good friends at school but I could never get my head round the number of classmates and other school kids who were suddenly Ayr United supporters every Parents Day when Ally MacLeod made an appearance.
Never one to tow the party line, I made my decision, one specific Parents Day, to tell Ally just who I supported when I wandered up to say hello.
“Are you an Ayr supporter too, son?”
“Nope, Kilmarnock.”
I was 10, I remember as if it was yesterday and can still see his face even now.
As the years progressed I went from fan to supporter to season ticket holder.
These days I just take in a game or three every season. The Scottish game and sexy Ayrshire football (can you smell the stench of sarcasm?) are not what they used to be.
Tottenham Hotspur actually started around six months before the Kilmarnock choice.
The BBC’s Match of the Day programme was big news for kids wanting to see the best football in the country and the top English league provided the best action and quality (and still does, whether those of us North of the Border choose to admit it or not).
While most of my friends or school mates supported the likes of Liverpool, Leeds United and Manchester United (due in part to the large numbers of Scottish players each team had in their ranks) I, typically, wasn’t going to follow fashion...
Alan Gilzean, a great Scottish striker of the late-‘60s and mid-‘70s, was one of my favourite players.
Gilzean played for Tottenham, having moved to Spurs from Dundee; I started to look for Spurs results.
Meanwhile Blue Peter, a hugely popular children’s TV show, was at its peak. My favourite presenter of the show was Peter Purves.
During the last show before Christmas the presenters always did an exchange of presents; one of the presents Peter Purves received was a Tottenham Hotspur mug.
That was good enough for me. If Peter Purves endorsed Spurs, so did I.
That was 1970. I started to follow the club at the start of the next season.
By the 1990's I was an active member of one of the Supporters Associations, but these days I’m what would be described as an armchair supporter.
White Hart Lane, the home of Tottenham Hotspur, is about 400 miles down the road from me but London is fairly accessible by car, train, bus or plane should I choose to visit The Lane.
But in October 2010 I chose to visit London because the San Francisco 49ers were in town and, as already mentioned, I'd previously taken a number of journey's across the pond to coincide with 49ers football.
And the trips to Candlestick Park were always part of the vacations, whether the 49ers were Super Bowl bound or heading for the bottom of their division.
‘Strangers in a strange town’ should have been an apt phrase, considering neither my friend John McGuigan or I had been to the United States before (John is another gridiron fan and supporter of the Tennessee Titans, although at that time the franchise was still the Houston Oilers).
Blind leading the blind? Should have been, but once we entered the city proper I immediately felt ridiculously comfortable – we had the usual street maps and tourist guides but I don’t recall using one.
I instinctively knew where to go or which direction to head to get to a specific place.
Before someone shouts “reincarnation!” I must state for the record I don’t believe in such transference of soul theories but do, however, believe there is a lot more to remote viewing (past, present and future) and ancestral memory than meets the mind. But that would be a whole other Muirsing.
Because of my affinity to the Bay Area I also find myself following the results of other teams from the area, such as the Stanford Cardinal college football team.
Interestingly, my wife Anne had danced at Stanford University in the mid-'80s (during half-time at an East v. West college Shrine game) as part of a Highland Dance troupe.
Not so much California coincidences as further connections.
The best example though is the San Francisco Giants, even although I am no great fan of baseball.
As I was writing this article, the Giants were celebrating their first World Series victory as a San Francisco franchise. I wish I could have been part of the celebrations but that’s the call of the area, not the sport.
Sporting affiliations closer to home were certainly not chosen through any affinity with the town of Kilmarnock or the city of London.
Kilmarnock are an Ayrshire team but the reason I started to follow them was because throughout Primary (pre-teens) School a classmate of mine was Andrew MacLeod, son of the late Alistair ‘Ally’ MacLeod, then manager of Ayr United. Kilmarnock’s local rival.
But my support for 'Killie' wasn’t through any dislike of Andrew or his dad. Far from it.
Andy and I were good friends at school but I could never get my head round the number of classmates and other school kids who were suddenly Ayr United supporters every Parents Day when Ally MacLeod made an appearance.
Never one to tow the party line, I made my decision, one specific Parents Day, to tell Ally just who I supported when I wandered up to say hello.
“Are you an Ayr supporter too, son?”
“Nope, Kilmarnock.”
I was 10, I remember as if it was yesterday and can still see his face even now.
As the years progressed I went from fan to supporter to season ticket holder.
These days I just take in a game or three every season. The Scottish game and sexy Ayrshire football (can you smell the stench of sarcasm?) are not what they used to be.
Tottenham Hotspur actually started around six months before the Kilmarnock choice.
The BBC’s Match of the Day programme was big news for kids wanting to see the best football in the country and the top English league provided the best action and quality (and still does, whether those of us North of the Border choose to admit it or not).
While most of my friends or school mates supported the likes of Liverpool, Leeds United and Manchester United (due in part to the large numbers of Scottish players each team had in their ranks) I, typically, wasn’t going to follow fashion...
Alan Gilzean, a great Scottish striker of the late-‘60s and mid-‘70s, was one of my favourite players.
Gilzean played for Tottenham, having moved to Spurs from Dundee; I started to look for Spurs results.
Meanwhile Blue Peter, a hugely popular children’s TV show, was at its peak. My favourite presenter of the show was Peter Purves.
During the last show before Christmas the presenters always did an exchange of presents; one of the presents Peter Purves received was a Tottenham Hotspur mug.
That was good enough for me. If Peter Purves endorsed Spurs, so did I.
That was 1970. I started to follow the club at the start of the next season.
By the 1990's I was an active member of one of the Supporters Associations, but these days I’m what would be described as an armchair supporter.
White Hart Lane, the home of Tottenham Hotspur, is about 400 miles down the road from me but London is fairly accessible by car, train, bus or plane should I choose to visit The Lane.
But in October 2010 I chose to visit London because the San Francisco 49ers were in town and, as already mentioned, I'd previously taken a number of journey's across the pond to coincide with 49ers football.
And the trips to Candlestick Park were always part of the vacations, whether the 49ers were Super Bowl bound or heading for the bottom of their division.
The flags sport the logo of the 'home team' at Wembley NFL games but every one of
the 32 teams has representation from the fans wearing the colours of their favourites.
As the years progressed and I became more familiar with the team, the players, their history and the city that hosts them, I started to keep in touch with the franchise.
I wrote to some of the staffers as well as some of the coaches, wishing them the best for the coming season. For personal reasons, two of those contacts deserve special mention...
Edward ‘Eddie’ DeBartolo, Jr. was the 49ers owner from 1977 to 2000.
He was, along with offensive coaching genius, the late Bill Walsh, the man most responsible for building the team into the dominant franchise they became for around 15 years.
I wrote to him in the late-‘80s and was pleasantly surprised when he replied personally.
We continued our communications for around a decade.
Dwight Clark was a premier receiver for the club in the 1980's and was retained by the club as a team executive for a few years after he hung up his helmet in 1987.
We corresponded for a time and he was my biggest influence as regards how to play receiver and, possibly more importantly, how to play the game.
In 1992 I fully intended to take another trip over and had mentioned this to Dwight Clark who was hopeful we could hook up on that particular visit.
Sadly it never materialised as my dad became terminally ill the same year and died that August.
I had of course cancelled all holiday plans and threw a short note together to both Eddie DeBartolo and Dwight Clark explaining the situation.
I received a reply from both, with Dwight Clark’s being especially sincere and thoughtful.
It was unexpected but greatly appreciated that two people, with a lot more on their minds than one supporter 5000 miles away, would take the time to respond and in the manner they did.
My dad was old school; a gentleman who put manners and respect ahead of any other trait.
He would have approved of their actions.
Unlike yours truly, my dad loved golf and once he retired was hardly off his local course.
He took me out with him when I was younger but I had very little interest.
It did lead to an interesting end to his invites for me to join him on the course, back when I was playing American Football.
One particular morning he asked if I fancied playing nine holes before I headed to football training in the afternoon.
“Sure” I said, “If you put some kit on and assist in 45 minutes tackling practice.”
“See you at dinner tonight” was the smart reply.
We did however have a mutual respect and understanding of the passion we each had for our chosen ball game. I caddied for him on occasion and he attended a number of Burners home games.
He also watched a lot of 49ers games with me and became a fan of the team, becoming quite the expert on many of the players, what a play-action pass was and when best to run a naked bootleg.
This article may be predominately red and gold within its black and silver text (quite the irony if you know your Bay Area football), but it has as much to do with the bond between supporter and his or her chosen team as it does the 49ers. There is therefore no place for the names of the great players past and present, favourite games, or the significant highs and lows.
That would be better suited for discussion with other like-minded supporters, fan forums or Bay Area football journalists.
And those sorts of discussions, in recent years, have more times than not been negative, critical or pretty damn depressing.
Bad management and bad management decisions, coaching conveyor belts, players let go that should have been retained, players drafted that flattered to deceive or should never have been drafted in the first place, no consistency on the park or on the sidelines…
It’s not been an easy road for the 49ers faithful in recent years.
But that road still led to Wembley Stadium on October 31st 2010.
Where I was wearing the colours of the American Football team the San Francisco 49ers.
Watching a team who were 1-6 and who could have conceivably gone 1-7.
But I wouldn’t have been anywhere else on the planet that evening.
49ers football, baby.
Ross Muir
November 2010
Article dedicated to the memory of Robert Owen Muir.
Nicest 49ers fan I ever met.
the 32 teams has representation from the fans wearing the colours of their favourites.
As the years progressed and I became more familiar with the team, the players, their history and the city that hosts them, I started to keep in touch with the franchise.
I wrote to some of the staffers as well as some of the coaches, wishing them the best for the coming season. For personal reasons, two of those contacts deserve special mention...
Edward ‘Eddie’ DeBartolo, Jr. was the 49ers owner from 1977 to 2000.
He was, along with offensive coaching genius, the late Bill Walsh, the man most responsible for building the team into the dominant franchise they became for around 15 years.
I wrote to him in the late-‘80s and was pleasantly surprised when he replied personally.
We continued our communications for around a decade.
Dwight Clark was a premier receiver for the club in the 1980's and was retained by the club as a team executive for a few years after he hung up his helmet in 1987.
We corresponded for a time and he was my biggest influence as regards how to play receiver and, possibly more importantly, how to play the game.
In 1992 I fully intended to take another trip over and had mentioned this to Dwight Clark who was hopeful we could hook up on that particular visit.
Sadly it never materialised as my dad became terminally ill the same year and died that August.
I had of course cancelled all holiday plans and threw a short note together to both Eddie DeBartolo and Dwight Clark explaining the situation.
I received a reply from both, with Dwight Clark’s being especially sincere and thoughtful.
It was unexpected but greatly appreciated that two people, with a lot more on their minds than one supporter 5000 miles away, would take the time to respond and in the manner they did.
My dad was old school; a gentleman who put manners and respect ahead of any other trait.
He would have approved of their actions.
Unlike yours truly, my dad loved golf and once he retired was hardly off his local course.
He took me out with him when I was younger but I had very little interest.
It did lead to an interesting end to his invites for me to join him on the course, back when I was playing American Football.
One particular morning he asked if I fancied playing nine holes before I headed to football training in the afternoon.
“Sure” I said, “If you put some kit on and assist in 45 minutes tackling practice.”
“See you at dinner tonight” was the smart reply.
We did however have a mutual respect and understanding of the passion we each had for our chosen ball game. I caddied for him on occasion and he attended a number of Burners home games.
He also watched a lot of 49ers games with me and became a fan of the team, becoming quite the expert on many of the players, what a play-action pass was and when best to run a naked bootleg.
This article may be predominately red and gold within its black and silver text (quite the irony if you know your Bay Area football), but it has as much to do with the bond between supporter and his or her chosen team as it does the 49ers. There is therefore no place for the names of the great players past and present, favourite games, or the significant highs and lows.
That would be better suited for discussion with other like-minded supporters, fan forums or Bay Area football journalists.
And those sorts of discussions, in recent years, have more times than not been negative, critical or pretty damn depressing.
Bad management and bad management decisions, coaching conveyor belts, players let go that should have been retained, players drafted that flattered to deceive or should never have been drafted in the first place, no consistency on the park or on the sidelines…
It’s not been an easy road for the 49ers faithful in recent years.
But that road still led to Wembley Stadium on October 31st 2010.
Where I was wearing the colours of the American Football team the San Francisco 49ers.
Watching a team who were 1-6 and who could have conceivably gone 1-7.
But I wouldn’t have been anywhere else on the planet that evening.
49ers football, baby.
Ross Muir
November 2010
Article dedicated to the memory of Robert Owen Muir.
Nicest 49ers fan I ever met.