by Daisy Barringer

Here’s the thing: I’m a Bad Fan. I cuss and yell and get angry. For obvious reasons, my behavior becomes even worse when the 49ers are losing. (And, yes, the “obvious reasons” are alcohol, frustration and desperation; an amazing combination no man can resist.) But here’s the other thing: I know I’m a Bad Fan, so I at least attempt to minimize the annoyance that it must be to sit anywhere near me at a game.

For example, yesterday, I was surrounded by Titans fans at Candlestick Park. There were at least ten of them within spitting distance arm’s reach. Som within the first few minutes of the game, I turned to them and told them that I was likely to say horrible rude things, but that I only behaved that way for three hours every Sunday and they shouldn’t take it personally.

I actually managed to remain quite composed for three quarters. But eventually the three turnovers in the second half (that the Titans converted to 17 points) and our defense’s inability to stop a 1-6 team was more than I could bear. So, when a very scary Titans’ fan with talons-for-fingernails painted Tennessee red and blue started taunting me, I did what any girl in my position would do.

I called her fat.