It's confession time. This one's bad.
Back in the 80's I was working for the Falcons as an usher, a dream job where I got paid $35 to basically watch the game. This was before the Dome, in an arena we called the Fulton County Wind Tunnel because it was so poorly designed, it made Atlanta games cold.
Football was my religion back then and my favorite teams were Atlanta (hometown), Washington (team I learned to watch football with, when my dad was working in DC), and the Forty-Niners (they were nice to us when our high school band played during a Falcons halftime and the Falcons gave us seats behind the Niners' bench).
San Francisco was the current Super Bowl dynasty. Atlanta was whatever is the opposite of that. We still loved our Birds (and our crazy high draft picks) but the Niners were rock stars. And they were in our house today. I was fangirling before they let us in the gate.
I had to get there early, so I was standing in a crowd talking to some hardcore fans. They said they knew where to meet the players after the game. As they gave details, I began to realize I was about to quit my very cool job. I would use my crew pass to get in, then not show up for work. It was the next-to-last game of the season, so I'd had a good run as faithful employee. Time to be a hardcore fan.
Told you this one's bad.
We first met the Falcons. I remember meeting Scott Case and others, at some sort of tailgating thing where someone was grilling food and the rest of us were getting autographs. Then we met the Niners as they were exiting. Jerry Rice never stopped but he did sign my paper and he was smiling the whole time. Probably because they won.
That year, I got something in the mail from the stadium. When I worked there before, I'd gotten a Christmas card from the Braves because the stadium was actually theirs and they employed us. This year, I did not get a card. I got an offer to purchase Falcon tickets for next year.
Well played, management.
How far have you gone to meet an idol? Fess up.