Sept. 22, 1994
A True Confession
I've tried to hide it for so many years, but now it is time to admit that I have a problem. I am a...49er addict. It started so innocently
back in high school. I didn't want to do it at first, but my friends forced me to experience it, and they said that going to a 49ers game
is the ultimate high. Because of peer pressure, I was lured in to spending my allowances so I can attend the 49ers' home games. By my
senior year, I knew I was hooked.
It became worse when I was in college. I had to work part-time on Sundays, but there was no way I could work efficiently when I know that
there was a 49ers game on. My boss and co-workers confronted me about my problem, but all I did was deny it and became violent. I was
fired from my job, but it didn't matter and I didn't care because all I wanted was some heavy dozage of the 49ers. I was losing control, but
I knew in my heart that it wasn't the real me, but my addiction to the 49ers which was causing all that rage inside of me.
I thought that working in a professional environment like (my company's name here) would be the cure for my addiction. Was I dead wrong! When the money started flowing
during paydays, I became more uncontrollable as ever. For the past seven years, I've been doing some heavy 49er binging. I would go
from street corner to street corner just to get the best available seat I could find without any concern for the price I have to pay. It got to
the point when the 49ers was more important than money and women. What was I thinking? I feel like I'm at the lowest point of my life, not
to mention the lonely empty feeling I feel inside.
I know that I'm almost a hopeless case, but with the encouragement, support, and pure love from my fellow co-workers there might still be
light at the end of the tunnel no matter how dim it is right now. But before I check myself in to the Betty Ford Clinic for my 49ers dependency,
all I want is just one more dance with the devil which is a pair of tickets against the Cowgirls. Please pray for my quick recovery, and I hope
that the world will give me a second chance and not judge me because of my past. Thank you.
Sept. 22, 1994
