Kevin Gorman: From Kobe Bryant to Super Bowl, sports world a roller coaster ride of tears, cheers

Chuck Franciscus was 5 years old when he became a Los Angeles Lakers fan for life, watching in awe as Magic Johnson went from throwing no-look, behind-the-back passes to playing center and scoring 42 points in winning Game 6 of the 1980 NBA Finals to clinch the world championship.

Franciscus became a San Francisco 49ers fan after seeing Dwight Clark make The Catch on a 6-yard touchdown pass from Monongahela’s Joe Montana to win the 1981 NFC championship game and reach Super Bowl XVI.

Those are the stories Franciscus loves to share to explain why a kid from Wilkinsburg lives for the Lakers and is fanatical about the 49ers. Those teams were his introduction to sports, a bond that began while watching games with his father, Bill.

“My dad was a fan,” Franciscus said, “so I became a fan.”

That fandom had Franciscus celebrating the 49ers winning the 2019 NFC championship one Sunday and mourning the death of Lakers great Kobe Bryant the next. Both weighed heavily on his mind as Franciscus headed to Miami in hopes of scoring a ticket to see the 49ers play the Kansas City Chiefs in Super Bowl LIV on Sunday at Hard Rock Stadium.

Bryant’s death will cast a shadow over this Super Bowl, where a moment of silence will be followed by cheers. This is the sports world we live in, where there’s always another game.

“It’s unbelievable,” said Franciscus, 44, who lives in Coraopolis. “One minute, I’m screaming for joy. The next, I’m crying my eyes out. … Of course, if the 49ers lose, it will only make it worse. But I could imagine if they win. Life is so strange, the ups and downs. The last two weeks is an example of the roller coaster ride we’re on.”

Bryant’s death has dominated the news this week — even amid a presidential impeachment trial — and it has been heartbreaking. All nine aboard the helicopter were killed when it crashed in Calabasas, including Bryant’s 13-year-old daughter, Gianna, who was fast becoming his basketball protege.

“You didn’t think this could happen,” Franciscus said, still in disbelief. “He was invincible. This was the guy who tore his Achilles and got up and made his free throws. …

“I feel like I grew up with him for 20 years, like he’s a little brother to me. I wanted to fight him sometimes. He had it all: He was so good, so smart but sometimes so selfish and arrogant. Then he made amazing plays. It was something he shared with Magic: his smile. It lifted you up and made you feel good.”

Nothing made Franciscus feel better than when he scored a single pre-sale ticket for $300 to Game 7 of the 2010 NBA Finals, in what he calls the worst seats at Staples Center. He was living in Sacramento at the time and made a six-hour drive to see the game and how Bryant jumped onto the scorer’s table in celebration of winning his fifth ring with the Lakers.

“I had two young girls on my left and two old guys on my right, and when it was over, we cried and hugged each other,” Franciscus said. “It was a generational thing. By far, the best $300 I’ve ever spent. By far!”

This was right before Father’s Day weekend, so Franciscus spent the holiday on Venice Beach reminiscing about his own dad. Bill Franciscus was an Allegheny County deputy sheriff who died on Oct. 25, 1991, just two weeks before Magic Johnson announced he had tested positive for HIV.

“I was crushed,” Franciscus said. “I thought I was going to lose my two biggest heroes in a two-week span.”

As Magic’s life gave him hope, so does the 49ers’ chances.

That’s the generational thing about sports. We hand our love for the game and our favorite players and teams down to the next. It becomes our unbreakable bond, the moments and memories we share, the smiles that lift you up and make you feel good.

This week has been a roller coaster ride, from the devastating details of Bryant’s death to seeing the heartwarming #GirlDad social media and pre-game salutes to an international sports icon who was proud to be the father of four daughters.

Bryant had left basketball behind when he retired, but a funny thing happened: His daughter became a fan, so he became a fan. Only the sports world can revolve in reverse order and serve as a lesson for how to handle both the cheers and the tears.