BBQ is tribal. Eating with our hands, faces smeared with bbq sauce “face paint”; tackling plates of pork ribs while watching others ribs being tackled; cheering in unison when a fresh plate of shiny, hot wings is set down; or booing and jeering when someone fumbles a beer.
San Francisco recently watched its last game at Candlestick Park, and this has me feeling a bit nostalgic. The ‘Stick’ is set to be demolished, leaving behind more than a half-century of memories. From the sublime magic of Walsh and Montana, to the savage hits of Ronnie Lott, our tribe’s home has seen some of the greatest moments in NFL history.
I will remember riding up that long, steep escalator in pairs, like we were boarding some kind of giant spaceship. The seemingly omnipresent present wind and fog, and sometimes rain. And the women’s bathrooms. Yes, even the bathrooms left their imprint. Banging on the dented, cold metal, bathroom stalls, I’ll forever remember the sound of women’s voices, chanting in unison, in their own private stalls, waiting in line, or washing their hands under the flickering fluorescent lights ….. “Who’s got it better than us?! ….. Noooobody!”
Cheers to you and your tribe! May your Superbowl Sunday be filled with good beer, plenty of friends and family near, and of course, tons of great (hopefully SFQ-slathered) food! And remember, it’s not over until the fat lady sings... and licks the last of the sauce off her fingers!
Pig Photo (c) Flickr User Dwayne Padon
For more great Candlestick memories, by some of the Bay Areas best writers, including Bruce Jenkins, Ann Killion and Scott Ostler check out - "Candlestick Memories."
