Football fans are a special breed. They come from all walks of life. They exist in all ages. From all corners of the earth they have descended upon San Francisco in the hopes of catching a little bit of that coveted Super Bowl fever.
Super Bowl tickets are outrageous, just as any playoff type deal, it's nearly impossible to get your hands on the things. Only the extremely wealthy or the family members of the players can touch them. If you're lucky enough to win tickets, then you're a member of the elite few who have luck on their side. For the rest of us, there's Super Bowl City. Super Bowl City is an overcrowded, free event that joins together the madness of game day and the capitalism of America. 20 dollar food cart meals and 10 dollar Bud Lights are commonplace. The worst part, is that when you're in this atmosphere you have no choice but to give in and partake. I'm three beers down standing in line for one of those expensive meals, and the lights of San Francisco are on. It's a gorgeous site. And everyone knows it. People have taken it upon themselves to forget about their earthly inconveniences and go out for some freemium entertainment. People watching and music from Grammy winners are on the menu tonight. The funny thing about big, free events is that they attract people of all ages. So next to some 30 year old smoking pot is a kid in a stroller pushed by their mom. Sometimes you have to compartmentalize things. Dressed up in their finest team gear: jerseys, hats, scarves, necklaces and more, they stagger onward between branded booths and children. They chant and sing the songs of their chosen team even if they didn't make it to the big game. It's fear and loathing on a molecular level. The Bay Area teams are represented by fans in full regalia. Raiders and 49ers fans are proud no matter the performance of their beloved teams. I'm currently waiting to watch OneRepublic, a band that I've listened to religiously since middle school. It's odd how things end up, and how full circle you can come just by circumstance. Strangers can be comforting, and in gigantic crowds like this that principle definitely applies. Wearing a hand made Carolina Panthers scarf in honor of my boy Cam Newton (the most valuable player in football as far as I'm concerned) I'm bopping up and down with people I'll probably never see again, and that's okay. It's America at its apex. All shapes, sizes and creeds are represented. United they stand. One nation under football.