the brock purdy effect ✨
We don't prove others wrong. Nah, we're in the business of proving ourselves right.
I quit my full-time job last year to be a stay-at-home-mama.*
*Well, kind of.
Last summer, my daughter was six months old and my maternity leave was just about to come to an end. I was working for Motorsport Games as a journalist/content creator with a large focus on sim racing. Esports have never really been my cup of coffee.
Sure, I played a lot of Zelda, 007 and Mario Kart back in the day. My brother had to dodge plenty of controllers. I rarely beat him.
Writing has always been an escape for me. So when I landed a salaried gig in journalism, my heart felt at peace.
I did it.
It’s tough af to work in sports full-time, especially as a female. I type this as I literally just got mansplained about All 22, lol.
Many of my roles prior to Motorsport were either unpaid internships or very, very minimal pay to the point where I had to manage a bar while waitressing just to keep my head above water financially. So of course it was incredible to finally feel valued in my career.
Cue the adversity, yet again.
On June 19th, 2022, my dad was diagnosed with acute promyelocytic leukemia (APL). It was Father’s Day when my mom and I convinced him to go to the hospital here in Italy during my parent’s two-month vacation visiting me and my then fiancé.
I remember taking two weeks off work to process what was happening. Both my siblings and their kids came from Canada to be with my mom and I as our dad lay in a bed on the third floor of a foreign ward. We were not allowed to see him, as his APL was too aggressive and his immune system was not strong enough to risk any outside contaminants.
The doctor told us had he waited another week to come in, he would have died.
My siblings and I decided to take a trip to the small town in the mountains where our dad spent most of his childhood. Prossenicco. We played cards and drank cheap wine out of the bottle. I had a glass and instantly ran to the bathroom to throw up.
Must be my anxiety, I thought.
I decided to stop drinking. I’m the type who has relied on alcohol in the past to try to ease the pain in my heart and soul. My dad would spend his 60th birthday alone in the hospital, clinging on for his life, and that just made me feel so heartbroken.
Each day that went by, I felt extremely tired. Probably my depression.
But then, I would feel nauseous and couldn’t keep food down, too. It’s all part of the grieving process, I guess.
Yet I had this strange feeling it was something more.
A week or two before my dad’s diagnosis, I was having dinner with my parents at their Airbnb in Stresa—a town just 20 minutes from my home in Arona. Dad gave me a funny look.
“I had a dream last night that you were pregnant,” he laughed.
“HA! No way, dad. It’s not the right time. I finally have a good job.”
When my brother and sister went back to Canada a week after dad’s birthday, I decided to take a pregnancy test. Two faint pink lines showed up in the little window. I cross-checked the box in which the test came tightly packaged in.
Incita.
(That’s the Italian word for pregnant, by the way)
Fast forward to my resignation letter. It was pretty terrifying walking away from my salaried job in sports. Esports, but still. I kept thinking I was making a mistake. Like I just gave up on my dreams to focus on being a mama instead.
As they say, though, when one door closes, another one opens.
I started freelancing for DAZN—a sports streaming and entertainment platform—shortly after. Live sports. NFL games. Italian football. And so much freedom to be a full-time mom while still working part-time hours with significantly more pay than the salaried job.
The extra time meant I could go all-in on my personal career goals: to write, interview and cover the 49ers in my own way, with my own YouTube show and my own media company.
No bosses. No 9-5 schedule. No restrictions on who I can be.
Just me. And my daughter, too.
I talk about the Swiss-cheese effect all the time. All these things had to line up exactly in order to see clearly through the block of cheese that is life.
If you look at your own journey, you can probably see the little moments where something aligned in such a way, that you’re somehow where you need to be right now.
The Brock Purdy effect.
I know he’s an NFL quarterback—ELITE, actually—and I’m just some woman in Italy with big dreams, but I sometimes think I vibe with the dude so much because I resonate with his story.
He wasn’t picked in the first round. Hell, he was literally the last pick of the draft. Purdy played well enough to earn a spot behind Trey Lance and Jimmy Garoppolo. And definitely earned it. He studied the film; he learned the playbook.
And when the Swiss cheese lined up just enough to drop him into that game against the Miami Dolphins due to an injured Jimmy G, he took the opportunity to prove why he belongs in this league.
It was divine timing, really.
We all have these small plays in our every day life that can take us to the big game, whatever that may look like. It’s up to us to stay humble, hungry and ready, though.
Ever since Purdy took over as the 49ers starting quarterback, he’s dealt with an onslaught of hate—pure stupidity from some folks, let’s be real—and clickbait headlines trying to discredit him as a player.
And sure, he’s had a few weaker moments in his NFL career. He didn’t have enough gas to get over the hill in last year’s Super Bowl.
The Hangover has been real, too.
But the goal posts continue to move.
“Take away his ‘avengers’ and he’s not the same quarterback. He won’t put up the same numbers without Deebo Samuel, George Kittle and Christian McCaffrey.”
Blah, blah, blah.
Yesterday’s game against the very injured LA Rams proved otherwise. Purdy found Jauan Jennings for not one, not two, but THREE touchdowns. He was nearly perfect with just eight incompletions. Six of which were dropped balls from his receivers.
Did he miss an open Brandon Aiyuk? Sure did. That’s assuming BA’s rusty hands would have caught the damn thing had Purdy seen him and lofted it his way. It was a big boo boo, though. The 49ers had to settle for a 55-yard FG attempt, which Money Moody did not make.
Still, Purdy’s stats are the diamond in the rough loss to the dishevelled Rams:
22-30. 292 yards. 3 touchdowns. 0 INTs. 137.1 passer rating.
His rating matched Kurt Warner for the second-most reg season games (16) of 100 or higher by a qb in their first 25 starts in NFL history, btw.
Purdy’s on-field stats speak volumes. However, it’s his leadership skills after the loss that have me praising Poised Purdy even more.
When asked about WR Ronnie Bell’s dropped ball, he stood by his teammate and took accountability.
I think I get so defensive of Purdy because I resonate deeply with busting my ass to get to where I am in life. Nothing has been handed to me. I’ve never been “lucky” in situations that have led me to the opportunities I’ve been blessed with.
In the past, I’ve worked three jobs just to put myself through school and pay for my dog’s food, all while struggling to afford my own meals.
Prior to the 49ers/Rams game, Colin Cowherd put out this narrative that Brock Purdy is essentially a “trust fund” kid. As if he’s been handed everything he has.
Here’s the Ferrari, son. Don’t crash it.
There are plenty of people who missed on Purdy, given how far down he was selected in the draft. And of course, it can take a hit at your pride to admit when you were wrong about someone.
But that’s the thing about the Brock Purdy effect: those who experience it themselves aren’t really looking for the praise and recognition. If anything, it’s the adversity that fuels us to keep going for ourselves, not anyone else.
I call it, “Proving yourself right; not proving others wrong.”
And it’s a motto I live by these days. When I think about quitting my 9-5 and waking up each day to my daughter, who has every bit of my heart and attention (while I write my articles and do my YouTube show in the moments when she’s napping or out with her dad for a walk), I take so much pride in the decisions that I’ve made to get to this point in my life.
To be a badass mama to my baby girl, all while working my own schedule and gaining credentials to the big events through my own merit.
No trust fund paid for this either.
Brock Purdy has a long way to go to carve himself into the Mt. Rushmore of greats. But I believe he is on his way there.
His story should inspire you to accomplish your wildest dreams. Because if a dude who literally was Mr. Irrelevant can show the world just how relevant he is—how resilient his mindset and skillset are both on-and-off the field—shouldn’t you be able to do the same, too?
Keep stunting, baby.
xx
Next up: the New England Patriots.