Dear Diary, Love Deanna

Touchdowns and Traditions: Football, Memories and Ties That Last

Deanna Norris

This episode isn’t just about football—it’s about the memories we create, the traditions we build, and the moments that stay with us long after the final whistle blows. It’s about the joy of family banter, the nostalgia of childhood rituals, and how the game can connect us to the people and experiences we hold dearest. Whether it’s laughing over questionable picks in the family football pool or finding comfort in old teams and new connections, football is more than just a sport—it’s a way to keep the important things close, even as life changes around us.  

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Dear diary, as I sit here thinking about football, it hits me. I think the whole purpose of the game isn't just the touchdowns, the drama, or even the halftime nachos, but let's be honest, those are really important. But it's about the traditions that it creates, the memories I get to hold onto, and the new ones that are born with every snap, kick, and touchdown. You see, football has always been more than just a sport. It's been the Sunday rituals, the smack talk with family, the high fives with strangers, and the moment when my team scores and I feel like I just won the Super Bowl. These are the moments that keep me coming back. But now, Diary, I want to talk about the new memories. You know, every season brings something fresh, whether it's a nail biter in overtime, a wild field goal from 65 yards out, or just trying to explain to my friends why yelling at the TV does help my team to win. Anyway. With each play, there's always that hope for something amazing. You know, the kind of amazing, like when you find 20 in your old jeans, But at the end of the day, football is more than just a game. It's about embracing the moments, the unpredictability, and yes, even the heartbreaks. You see, because with every snap, kick and touchdown, there's always a new chapter waiting to be written. And I'm here for it. All of it with a drink in hand, but no, nothing too strong because I am now a cheap date and I don't want to miss anything happening. So diary, today I've been thinking about my dad. You see, he was a huge sports fan. He loved them all. He loved football, basketball, golf, you name it. And for me, I wasn't exactly the Barbie type. I loved hanging out with him and watching sports. But it was when I was 10 that my dad asked me which football team I wanted to support. I'm like, wait, what? I'm getting included in the secret club? There's no initiation fee? There was definitely no fancy perks, but hot damn, I was in. It's the kind of club where the snacks were endless, the family banter never stopped, and yelling at the TV was practically a rite of passage. Victories feel like you just won the lottery, but the defeats, they sting like hell, and hey, I was now part of something, and that's what made it all worth it. So, what team? Who do I pick? Being from California, I wanted to choose a team from my state. So, I weighed my four options. I had the Rams, the Raiders, the Chargers, the Niners, but even though I wasn't a Barbie type, in my true girl fashion, I did choose the 49ers because, let's face it, they had the best color combination. So that is where it all started. I bled red and gold for 40 years. I went from Montana to Rice to Young to Alex Smith to even Kaepernick. But him, somewhere along the way, decided to make the field his personal little soapbox. But after that, or actually during that, I had fallen in love with a coach. Jim Harbaugh came along, Sure, I liked coaches before, but this guy? He was different. It wasn't just that he was intense. Every moment. had me glued to the screen. My heart raced like a little school girl with her first crush. And I couldn't help it. I was head over heels for his style, And honestly, I didn't care who knew it. So at this point, things were perfect in my little Niners bubble until the day it all changed. You see, I'm never going to forget the moment I found out that Harbaugh wasn't going to coach the Niners anymore. I was sitting in a bar in Portland, Oregon. I'm sipping on my fruit flavored vodka and soda because, well, it was a step up from a White Claw, but. Definitely not the ideal time to make any life altering football decisions, but there I was. It felt like my entire world had collapsed, and in my drunken panic, I did the only thing that made sense. I decided to publicly divorce the Niners on social media. In my buzzed brilliance, I posted this dramatic breakup letter, something like, Sometimes relationships don't work out the way we imagined, or how I really, really wanted it to. I don't know. I couldn't keep pretending that everything was fine So of course, I took this relationship very seriously, even though they had no clue we were in a relationship together. Anyway, My mom reads my post. She immediately calls me. She's convinced that I'm in the middle of some midlife crisis. I was her wild child, unlike my two perfectly well behaved sisters. But my dad was there and he's cracking up in the background because he knew exactly what was going on and that alcohol was probably involved. I had to explain to her that it was my relationship with the Niners, one they didn't know existed, but guess what, Ma, it's officially over. How is it that something as simple as a sports team can evoke such strong emotions? You see, it's a reminder that our passions, whether sports, hobbies, or relationships can bring us both immense joy and yet deep heartbreak. So now I have publicly divorced them. I can't retract what I said after the alcohol wore off. You know, it would be like trying to put toothpaste back in the tube or unburn a piece of toast. once it's out there, there's no sober take backs. So now I'm stuck as this person who publicly divorced the Niners after one too many drinks. Now. I'll admit it, when I was younger, I couldn't stand the Rams. Their color scheme and logos were just downright horrific. Like, just terrible. But as time went on, things changed. So when I left the Niners, the Rams became my rebound team. I mean, they cleaned up their look, and at that point I was just looking for a team that wasn't a complete fashion disaster. As with any good rebound, at first you think that they're the answer. They're new. They're exciting. It's a fresh start. The Rams had cleaned up their look and I thought, this is it. This is my post Niners fresh fling. But of course, like as with any rebound, the sparkle wore off. At first I was like, I don't know, this is great. But within a couple of years I'm sitting there realizing, wait, this just isn't the same. You know, it left me wondering why it feels like I was settling for something. Turns out, you can't fill a 40 year relationship sized hole with a fancy new logo and a few new shades of blue. So now, despite being a diehard Niners fan, I'd always had a soft spot for another team. The Detroit Lions. Yeah, I know. you see, my mom was from California but my dad, well, he was raised in Michigan along with all his family. He's one of 12 kids. So the Lions were this little piece of Michigan in the middle of all my California chaos. it was a nice way to actually feel connected to that side of the family, even if they were always waiting to win a Super Bowl. So Diary, I want to fast forward. I'm going to go through time where my dad just, you know, he was getting older and he completely shattered the whole team loyalty mindset. One day my dad's all about the team and the next he's following players Really, Dad? What happened to sticking with your crew? But as a daddy's girl, I wanted to support his choices. But this is where it got tough. Why? His allegiance. It was Tom Brady. I mean, I get it. Brady's a Michigan boy. So my dad was sticking with his roots, and that makes complete sense. But come on. For me, the real legends were when quarterbacks didn't get flagged for every little gust of wind that blew by? I know, Diary, it's probably not a very good thing to say out loud, because I know many people swear by Brady as the GOAT, and I get it. You know, this guy has more rings than a jewelry store, and he seems to defy aging like he's in some secret deal with time itself. But for me, my goat, he's a different breed. I mean, 1979 to 1995, it was just a different time. You see, they had a different kind of grit. It's what I call the real grit, the kind of grit that came with no fancy helmets, no extra padding, just pure toughness. And oh, back then, guess what? Diary, they actually played on grass, where mud was caked to their cleats, not this fancy artificial turf nonsense. And the weather? It didn't matter if it was pouring rain, freezing snow, a windstorm. These guys were warriors. They fought for every inch of the field, like they were storming a castle. This was Montana's era. But Brady's era. It changed. Now it's got climate controlled stadiums with half the games on turf. The turf looks so perfect, it's probably groomed by a golf course groundskeeper. I mean, what's next? Heated benches with seat warmers? But once we finally moved past that Brady saga, my dad threw me another curveball. You see, it went from Brady, and he retired, so Pops had to pick someone different, and now he became a big fan of Trevor Lawrence. I don't know. I wasn't sure what he saw in Lawrence, but I thought, hmm. I possibly get behind this guy? I mean he's got hair like Cinderella and he basically looks like a Disney prince. He's like a human version of Flynn Rider from Tangle, so naturally for my dad I added the Jacksonville Jags onto my list of teams. So what? Last year my teams were Rams, Lions, Jaguars. I know it's a lot. Football's basically an open relationship for me at this point. Commitment issues, you think? now, I've got shirts from every team all over and it's crazy. I mean, I look like a walking identity crisis. I've got one team's football sticker on my car, another team's license plate frame, another team on my shirt and a completely different one on my hat. I mean, people must think I have no idea what I'm doing. And well, they might not be wrong. So anyway, last year, my dad had the brilliant idea of starting a family football pool. Reason being, we're all scattered over the U. S., so this, was his way of bringing his family together, and it was genius, because, honestly, nothing says family bonding like talking trash over bad football picks. Every week, Dad and I would sit down, we'd look at everyone's choices, and we would basically roast them behind their backs. He'd be like, oh my gosh, really? And we'd laugh like we were just these football experts of the century. And we weren't much better. But it was the perfect way to keep our far flung family close. This year, I wasn't sure if I wanted to do the pool. Actually, I didn't want to do it. Because I didn't have it in me. You see, dad left in March and the thought of starting the pool without him, it felt wrong. You see, he was my confidant, my partner in crime. And when it came to picking teams and then laughing at our family's expense, he was my guy. Every week we'd swap stories, talk strategy and we'd secretly roll our eyes at the wild picks that made no sense. It was our thing. And without him, um, It just didn't feel the same. But then I thought maybe this is how we keep him with us through the shit talking, the laughter, and all those ridiculous pics we'd have definitely made fun of together. So this year we're going to do the pool in his honor. It hurts and yeah, it's different, but it's also a way of remembering the fun, the connection, the moments that brought us closer. Even if he's not here to laugh with me, I know he's somewhere shaking his head at someone's crazy pics. But that's why I love traditions and that is exactly what it is with football. The traditions of the past and the new ones that we create. As my dad did with me, I actually got to build the same with my daughter when she was young. You know, we had our own little rituals through the years. We dressed the part in our fan uniforms. We made sure the food was on point, and we'd set the atmosphere so we could yell at the refs like we were part of the coaching staff. But most importantly, we cheered our team as true, devoted fans. Our love for the Niners ran deep, and I mean deep, red and gold forever, but it wasn't just a team to us. It was kind of like a lifestyle. Now, my daughter, when she was younger, I'm gonna say she went through a bit of a rebellious phase because, you know how it goes, you get a crush on a boy and suddenly, poof, she's a stealer. But as life moved forward and we started losing the ones we love, something changed. You know, she went back to her roots It's funny how that happens, right? Sometimes when life throws you those tough moments, you realize how much those traditions matter and you find your way back to what's always been there. Now I've got to admit, even though my daughter found her way back to the Niners, I'm still working through my issues. You know, going back to an ex thinking they've changed is a pretty risky move. There's always this little voice in the back of your head saying, Are we really doing this again? Sure. They've actually gotten their act together in recent years and they're doing great. So don't get me wrong. There's always a special place in my heart for them. They were my first love. I've learned that life takes you in different directions and sometimes that's okay, but traditions are awesome. And I love keeping the memory live and I love making new ones. Anyway, even if I stay in last place, in this family football pool all year. I'm going to do it with a smile, and I'll probably be yelling at the TV. And as I do that, I think about my dad, and how different we were in our football watching styles. He sure got to witness all of my ugly and all of my excitement. So yeah. Traditions matter. They're the threads that weave our past with our present, grounding us and reminding us of who we are. And you don't have to be a football fan to get that. Maybe someone's tradition is Sunday dinners, summer road trips, or even a weekly call with an old friend. Whatever it is, it's worth protecting. Because life has this funny way of slipping by, one day at a time. Before you know it, another season has passed and you're left wondering where did this time go? Those traditions, they're the anchors that keep us steady. They're the things we look back on with a smile, even when times get tough. So diary, I challenge people to take the time to build any kind of tradition. Create one, embrace the moments that make them feel alive, make time for people they love and, and don't be afraid to be a little sentimental about it. Because at the end of the day, it's these little moments that keep us connected even when everything else changes. And if I've learned anything, it's that those moments are worth every bit of our time and effort.