By CHRISC TEICHERA

Thanks a lot Kenny Stabler.

You handed a 5 year old boy a bill of goods in 1977, that he often stares at with complete confusion. Like a Blockbuster Video app on my television that I’m incapable of removing, the Raiders and our commitment to mediocrity mock my Sundays.

This column was gonna be about how much I hate the Niners. Nay. Niner fans.

Let me temper my use of the word “hate” so as not to appear a football lunatic. Which I am.

I hate Niner fans like a person that doesn’t pull up to the farthest forward pump at a gas station. Like someone in a grocery line that says “Well, I guess it’s free right?” when the clerk can’t get the item to scan. Yuck.

Sweet. Delicious. Harmless. Hate.

Being raised in a mostly pro-Niner family has been a tough road to hoe for this silver and black loyalist. It wasn’t always that way though, as there was a time I was quite capable of rooting for the Niners.

But then something changed…

There is a smug arrogance that was developed by “The Faithful” during the late 80’s.

Quick reminder: “The Faithful” refers to some of the doormat years for the Niners, in which fans would sneak into an empty Candlestick Park, and those few thousand that would remain for the entirety were pinned with this nickname.

Being faithful to an organization with a trophy case full of Super Bowls and Hall of Fame busts, ain’t exactly the spirit the nickname was coined under.

If I was dating Katie Perry, I’d hardly feel the need to let everyone know that I’m loyal to her.

Believe me I’m all for taking something unintended, and spinning it for my own gratification. I named a comedy club after my deaf dog, but you don’t see me putting “Deaf Puppy Faithful” on a hoodie and hooting about it with all my like-minded idiots…

That will be this Fall. $29.99.

I remember January 10, 1982. The Catch. We were on an extended family vacation at the great Jim Turner’s cabin, and as most the Teicheira clan headed back down the hill early to catch the game, we stayed.

As a 9 year old boy I was already highly invested in my Raider fandom. Somewhere my mother has a football player doll stashed away that I’d carry everywhere as a toddler.

A stinky, tattered, and sweaty mess of a toy — named Kenny (Stabler)

But even then I was quite capable, and even enjoyed rooting for the Niners.

In my humble, and useless opinion, a person has ‘til the age of 10 to consign his team loyalty. Am I proud that there are pics of me wearing Cowboys jerseys in the 70’s?

No. Thanks a lot Roger Staubach for being so wholesome and awesome.

Back to The Catch.

It was incredible! We leapt around the cabin, my dad is a Niners fan, it was a wonderful bonding moment.

That being said. I never entertained the idea of putting on some Niner gear, but within a week my fourth grade class was loaded with ugly puffy gold jackets.

Where’d they come from?!

Still it was tolerable. Probably because at that time the Raiders were getting their fair share of victory.

A little pie for everyone seems nice. These lowly Niner fans, much like a man winning the lottery in Bakersfield, will no doubt be returning to the oil fields and orchards soon.

Then they beat the Dolphins a few years later.

Hmmm. This may be a problem.

Still tolerable. Unfortunately Raider fans had no way of knowing that over the next 5 years, the formation of a horrible dullard of a sports fan was being molded.

My god, even in that 3 year run where the Bears, Giants, and Redskins ran roughshod over the Niners, these golden buffoons acted as if they won.

“That was a bs pass interference call against the Redskins!”

“If Jim Burt hadn’t knocked out Joe, we would’ve won!”

Blah blah blah “if Joe”

Stop it. Guess what. If Joe had a banana growing out of his head, he’d be a tree — Nobody Cares!

Then those late 80’s Niners teams were absolutely dominating. While my Raiders were going through our Steve Beurlein and Rusty Hilger phase.

Stink-a-roo.

Niner fans were catapulting down the hill upon a red and gold toboggan of success. Oh how I wished for a tree to jump out and end the fun.

There were a few branches to the face, in the form Roger Craig’s fumble, and your defense letting Alvin Harper look like Jerry Rice on occasion ­— but you’d hardly notice with the smug arrogance they carried on their shoulders.

The worst part is that I love smug, uninformed, and unabashed arrogance…I’ve made a living off it!

Having these once sad sacks, now staring down their collective noses at me, was something I wasn’t ready for.

Let’s not even mention the majority of the 90’s. The colors silver and black more aptly represented a puddle of oil and transmission shreds in the driveway. Jeff George? Billy Joe Hobert?!

Then Steve Young came to Manteca during his Super Bowl season. He filmed a commercial for Curt Hughes Dodge, that I got to be part of as a 22 car salesman.

Column sidebar: A phone call had to be made to the great Walker Vick in order to secure the football field for filming, and I made it as part of my negotiations to weasel into that commercial.

((ring ring)) Manteca High Fieldhouse

“Yup” — Coach

“Coach, it’s Chris Teicheira. I have the opportunity to shoot a commercial with Steve Young, we want to use the football field…but we can’t let anybody know” — Me

“Ok. I’m busy.” — Coach

“I’m 100% serious” — Me

“Let me talk to an adult” - Coach

“Coach, I’m 22 years old” — Me

“A real adult Teicheira” — Coach

 I threw the tightest spiral of my life on the first take of filming, he said “Chris, great ball.”

There were Niner fans everywhere on Gus Schmiedt Field that day. Why?

Cause I told a bunch of people. Steve Young’s handlers and the commercial crew were not too pleased, inquiring how this thing managed to make the paper even.

I played dumb like Ralphie when Flick froze his tongue to the pole.

Kids and adults in Niner jerseys were patting me on the back. I was getting a sweet taste of the inner gold and red sanctum….

Am I about to cheat on Katie Perry?!

Never. I’m over 10 years old, and have chosen my silver and black fate. Them’s the rules boys.

That was thirty years ago, the last time the Niners hoisted a trophy. Something “The Faithful” hate to be reminded of.

Yes. I know it’s been 40 for us. But Ladies, let’s not split hairs when dealing in decades.

At the end of the day it’s fun to “hate” the Niners and their fans.

Sports is the one human medium that allows me to hate. We’re not talking about your life, health, family, or good fortunes. (* Though some of you psychos blur these lines)

It’s sports. I’m a Raider fan. You can’t hurt or insult me at this point.

We had to watch the Niners play the Chiefs in the Super Bowl. What a horrendous moment. I hate both these teams.

Who did I root for? The Chiefs

How could I root for the Raiders most hated rival and call myself a Raiders fan?! ‘Cause I ain’t gotta live with those people all year.

Mmm. Now that’s some tasty hate.

Hope you guys lost last night. Have a great week.

“It’s not Where ya do, It’s What ya do”