My son–Trip–was not.
He has his favorite NFL teams picked out. First, it was the Eagles. He picked them solely based on the fact that the team color matched what-was-then his favorite color, green.
Now, along with Philadelphia, he has added the family favorite–the Houston Texans. Trip is surrounded by family who are enthusiastic Texans supporters, and by sheer number, they overpowered my Saints fandom. That and the Texans match Trip’s new color preference–blue.
Trip is not opposed to the Saints, and he knows they’re my favorite team. He’ll excitedly point out a fleur-de-lis and exclaim, “Look! Your football team!” He’ll give me conciliatory hugs when the Saints lose, which this year has been more often than not.
Of course, Trip doesn’t remember that the Saints won the very first Superbowl of his existence. To him, the Saints are my team, not his. So, when he says he doesn’t want a Saints jersey, I understand.
But, still…deep down…I know I raised him right.
Because when a staff member teased me about looking at the Saints jersey, Trip saw that the guy was wearing a Dallas Cowboys tee.
And Trip yelled back at him (loud enough for the whole store to hear), “I don’t like the Cowboys!”