Aw, thanks for this. I remember being so happy and proud as a 14-year old kid seeing this and it makes me happy to see it again 30 years later today. I generally have a terrible memory but I can picture the moment Dennis Gibson batted down that pass clear as day. Before that moment I don’t think there was anything that made me involuntarily leap and scream before; it was like I was possessed. For better or worse, that season was when I first started watching football and when I first became a Chargers fan.
This also makes me nostalgic for that time. Just look at that front page. Take the time to zoom in and read that column by Tom Cushman on the right. Read the headline at the bottom about 68,000 fans gathering just to welcome the Chargers home. This is ostensibly a news organization but look how unabashedly proud the local paper was. It’s a reflection of how the city, already the 6th largest in the U.S., still felt like a small town, so proud that it had made it onto the national stage. Part of being proud of the Chargers back then was being proud of San Diego.
The origin of the word nostalgia is Greek, meaning the suffering evoked by returning home. And I do still lament that the Chargers are no longer in San Diego. I’m doubtful the LA Times would make a front page like this, that LA would come together to celebrate like we did then. And of course, these days, we experience another sort of pain, that of being a perennially disappointing team. My wife doesn’t understand why I’m still a fan of the Chargers, despite all that has happened, and my only explanation is that the mixture of pride and happiness I felt during that 1994 season is something I’ve never been able to let go.
Aw, thanks for this. I remember being so happy and proud as a 14-year old kid seeing this and it makes me happy to see it again 30 years later today. I generally have a terrible memory but I can picture the moment Dennis Gibson batted down that pass clear as day. Before that moment I don’t think there was anything that made me involuntarily leap and scream before; it was like I was possessed. For better or worse, that season was when I first started watching football and when I first became a Chargers fan.
This also makes me nostalgic for that time. Just look at that front page. Take the time to zoom in and read that column by Tom Cushman on the right. Read the headline at the bottom about 68,000 fans gathering just to welcome the Chargers home. This is ostensibly a news organization but look how unabashedly proud the local paper was. It’s a reflection of how the city, already the 6th largest in the U.S., still felt like a small town, so proud that it had made it onto the national stage. Part of being proud of the Chargers back then was being proud of San Diego.
The origin of the word nostalgia is Greek, meaning the suffering evoked by returning home. And I do still lament that the Chargers are no longer in San Diego. I’m doubtful the LA Times would make a front page like this, that LA would come together to celebrate like we did then. And of course, these days, we experience another sort of pain, that of being a perennially disappointing team. My wife doesn’t understand why I’m still a fan of the Chargers, despite all that has happened, and my only explanation is that the mixture of pride and happiness I felt during that 1994 season is something I’ve never been able to let go.