I have always been and will always be a 49er girl. Through the good years, the bad years and all the in-between years, they've been my team. (It follows then, that the Dallas Cowboys have never nor will ever be my team.) What that means is that Joe Montana throwing the infamous TD to Dwight Clark under the guidance of the best coach a team could ever have - Bill Walsh - remains a sports and, well, a life highlight for me. I suspect it will always remain a moment of supreme excitement, a moment that even now (I'm not even embarassed to say it) brings a tear to my eye (talk about people doing exactly what they are meant to be doing in life) when I think of it, so full of hope and promise and Bay Area-ness it was. It held so much for the people who lived in SF and loved their niners...that you could mention that moment to anyone and if they'd also been there, you could easily become friends for life. Or at least for a few more rounds at the pub. The catch that led to Super Bowl 16. I have the books, the film, the signed posters. I could watch that game over and over again. And I have. Many times.
Those heady days of football under Bill Walsh defined for me what it meant to play with heart, to live with heart, to be creative, to surprise even the pundits, to make plays and run routes that no one else had ever dared to try. While I don't play football and never have, growing up in SF during the Bill Walsh years made me a Walsh devotee all the way. No matter what came after. No matter what drama unfolded (I'm looking at you Mariucci) after Walsh left the helm or when he came back to the front office but wasn't able to do much.
And so - it breaks, breaks, breaks my heart to learn that Bill Walsh died today. I have few words, just some tears. He meant so much to the Bay Area - so much. I don't even know how to put it in a way that would do him any justice at all. So instead I post this, in lieu of any proper book content today, as a way to give a respectful nod to the man who managed my favorite team during the formative years of my life. Perhaps I'll go watch those ever-so-sweet games again...and again...and again. Thank You Mr. Walsh for showing us how to play with imagination and heart. You were the bees knees, a truly class act in a sea of brutish foes, and you will be sorely missed.
