February Rush

"A pass rush in the fourth quarter is the key to winning NFL football."
                  Bill Walsh

"(W)ith 9:38 showing on the clock their passing attack was over, finito. The team that uses the pass to set up the run went Big Ten. No more passes, not one. Seven straight running plays."
                  Paul Zimmerman on Super Bowl XVI

 "We didn't know what to expect, given the mentality of their coach. Plus, he had that extra week to prepare them." 
                  Reggie Williams of the Cincinnati Bengals after Super Bowl XVI

"Our four linemen are going to have to do it without help... Oh, we'll mix in a stunt or a blitz, just to keep from being static... But out front four guys are going to have to have the game of their lives."
                   Coach Bill McPherson, the night before Super Bowl XIX



Rush the football and rush the quarterback. Will that formula, properly executed, be enough for the 49ers to beat the Kansas City Chiefs in Super Bowl LIV on Sunday? It had better be.

We've seen it played out time and again. When a game is hyped as "the unstoppable force meets the immovable object," look to the other side of the equation for the keys to victory.

Patrick Mahomes is the "unstoppable force." The game's most gifted and prolific quarterback leads an offense that can score at any time, in any situation, whether on a long, dispiriting drive or a sudden quick strike downfield. They will face the "immovable object," the game's most dominating and consistent defense, a defense that is back at the full strength that made it the talk of NFL early this season while Mahomes was dealing with a dislocated kneecap. Something's got to give, right?

Likely both will give. Mahomes will make plays, probably a few plays no one else can make, and his offense will score points. The 49er defense will make plays, probably more pressure than Mahomes has seen all year, and some hits in the secondary that will make his receivers long for the defenses of Tennessee and Houston. 

But it says here the game will be decided by what happens when Mahomes is on the sideline and the team in white has the ball. Will Jimmy Garoppolo pilot the 49ers to victory with another Bob Griese impersonation? Or will Jimmy G and his receivers uncork those big plays, often immediately following a sack or a penalty, that broke the backs of good defenses in New Orleans and LA?  Will Raheem Mostert, or Matt Breida, or a recovered Tevin Coleman charge through lanes wide enough to admit EZ-Pass customers, to the point that the KC defense reaches the brink of despair? Or will George Kittle break Jerry Rice's Super Bowl game receiving records in a ferocious display of skill and will, leaving would-be tacklers strewn across the field like dominoes? Can the 49ers hold the ball on offense for 35, even 40, minutes? Will the last half of the fourth quarter see a relentless pass rush, one that Mahomes has handled all day, suddenly overwhelm him, as the realities of too many yards and points to gain plus not enough clock left suddenly break the game decisively our way?  For goodness' sake, will it go into overtime and will Jimmy G then "pull a Brady" and win the game with an unanswerable TD drive, as happened to Mahomes and the Chiefs a year ago?

Kyle Shanahan has had two weeks to prepare for this game, and the execution of his game plan by  his offense, we say, will decide the outcome. We also say, watch out for a not-so-secret weapon named Deebo Samuel. A few big plays from that multi-talented rookie could go a long way toward bringing a sixth Lombardi Trophy back to San Francisco.


That Was Then, This Is Now

49er fans of a certain age will remember the last time the team faced an all-world record-breaking phenomenon of a young quarterback in the Super Bowl. That was Dan Marino, of course, with his Miami Dolphins and his 55 touchdown passes, reaching Super Bowl XIX while staid NFL stalwarts such as Tom Landry and Chuck Noll positively gushed over Marino like teenyboppers at a Justin Bieber meet-'n'-greet.  As we recall, that one turned out OK; Joe Montana had the game of this life and, even more importantly, the 49er front four turned Marino into a sack-absorbing interception-throwing statue. He completed exatly one deep pass downfield over four quarters, and it took a circus catch by his receiver to haul it in. That play helped keep the game competitive through halftime-- until a brutal three-and-out ending with an emphatic sack opened the third quarter and decided the outcome right then and there.

Times have indeed changed. Some of the many hits Marino endured that longest afternoon of his career would be flagged as "roughing-the-passer" today. Some of the aggressive coverage the 49ers' All-Pro secondary dished out would be flagged as "illegal contact" or, worse, "hit on a defenseless receiver" today.  Andy Reid's offense is not as one-dimensional today as was Don Shula's then (and by necessity, we quickly note; the great coach would have designed a balanced attack if he had the players to do it). Mahomes, as we all saw last weekend, can break out and run for twenty, thirty yards or more when he has to, as Joe Montana himself did that day in 1985. Mahomes is much more a combination of Montana's and Marino's skills and athleticism than he is a carbon copy of Number 13. 

No, the reason for all this blather is simply to deflate the idea that any one player, no matter how great, is unstoppable. What does it mean to "stop" Mahomes? It's unlikely any defense can stop him from gaining yards and scoring touchdowns. But until proven otherwise, we believe there is a defense out there that can keep him from taking over a game, and the only defense left with that capability is the 49ers'. If the San Francisco offense can compress Mahomes' opportunity window to 25 minutes or less, and if the game is close in the fourth quarter, we believe "stop" will be defined in the simplest manner: not allowing him to generate enough points to win the game. 

And if all those things happen and Patrick Mahomes still makes the game-winning plays-- well, then we'll have to rethink this whole "unstoppable" business after we doff our hats.

But unless and until that moment comes, we believe it will be a Niner Boogie on Super Sunday!

Clash of the Titans III

As Aaron Rodgers dropped back to pass for the last time in the 49ers' NFC Championship win over Green Bay, with offensive linemen falling like trees around him and red shirts closing in from all directions, we were somehow reminded of the valiant but doomed leadership of General Robert E. Lee, leading his bedraggled, beaten army of 8000 or so away from the wreckage at Sailor's Creek and toward an encampment of over 100,000 enemy soldiers. He wasn't ready to quit, not yet, and neither was Rodgers, despite having been sacked for the third time two plays earlier, despite no timeouts, despite a 17-point deficit. Rodgers ignored the pressure and heaved a beautiful rainbow pass downfield, but it was off-target and Richard Sherman made the easy interception that turned a contest into a celebration. The San Francisco 49ers are back in the Super Bowl!

And so are the Kansas City Chiefs, and as people who know us well have heard many a time, the Chiefs are our second-favorite team and our favorite from the old AFL of our childhood. And it was as an AFL team, the last one standing in fact, that the Chiefs last played for the world championship, in the fourth "NFL-AFL World Championship of Pro Football," as it was called then, concluding the 1969 season and the storied history of their league with a shockingly (to some, that is) one-sided victory over the NFL's best, the Minnesota Vikings. It's been fifty years for Kansas City, and only seven for the 49ers, but is there any doubt the Big Game will, this time, feature the NFL's two best?

"Clash of the Titans" is the nickname we bestowed upon Super Bowl XIII between the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Dallas Cowboys, the two best teams of the 1970s, who met to decide which one would be the first team ever to win three Super Bowls.  Five years later the Los Angeles Raiders and the defending Super Bowl champion Washington Redskins were so dominant in their conferences during the regular season that their meeting in Super Bowl XVIII had an air of inevitability. The same could be said for the 49ers-Miami matchup a year later.  And now we have, for those with a fondness for legends, Joe Montana's first team against Joe Montana's second team. We missed out on "Joe versus Steve" in 1994, but in 2020, as Joe himself said the other day, "I guarantee my team will win this game!"

So we're not about to work up any animosity here for our opponent, a team that for awhile seemed to be a "rest home" for former 49er quarterbacks. Joe, Steve DeBerg before him, Steve Bono and Elvis Grbac after him-- all of them led Kansas City into the playoffs. Years later Alex Smith did the same. Whoever wins this game will deserve it-- as long as it isn't decided on a call or non-call, that is. Banish that thought!

It could be argued-- it is being argued-- that neither of these Super Bowl teams defeated their conference's best opponent to get here. The 49ers played the Packers and the Vikings, not the Seahawks and the Saints, while KC avoided the omnipresent Patriots and the top-dog Ravens. But that's missing the point. Both these teams were the most exciting, complete, and dynamic teams in their conferences all year long. The Kansas City defense hit a slump mid-season, but emerged as one of the strongest units in football down the stretch. The 49er defense likewise dropped off after a sensational start-- but after their first bye in 14 weeks, the unit came roaring back well-rested at full strength, as the Vikings and Packers will sadly testify. A year ago, "everyone" wanted to see the Los Angeles Rams and the Chiefs reprise their incredible 54-51 Monday night epic in the Super Bowl; "everyone" was disappointed. We're not aware of anyone who expects to be bored on February 2.

The contrast here is between the Chiefs' explosive passing offense featuring the amazing Patrick Mahomes, and the 49ers' unstoppable run game featuring Raheem Mostert-- unless it's Matt Breida or Tevin Coleman, that is. Mahomes certainly showed his matchless ability to turn a  game around in a manner of minutes; he did it in back-to-back weeks, erasing 24- and 10-point deficits like a six-foot sixth-grader after spotting his classmates a lead in a game of "Horse." The 49ers' great offensive front-- we're talking Laken Tomlinson, Mike Person and Ben Garland as well as tackles Joe Staley and Mike McGlinchey, plus the twin hammers of Kyle Jusczyk and George Kittle-- pounded one very good defense and another good defense into submission before halftime in each playoff game.

As we've said before, when the focus is on one side of the ball, look to the other side for the keys to victory. That's going to be  a little harder to do here, so we'll push it out to next week.

Bright moments:

Mostert, obviously, taking over the game as the premier ballcarrier of the weekend, doing a "Derrick Henry" on the Packers. That may be a tad unfair to Henry; last Sunday he didn't have lanes through which to run as Mostert did. But the point is, the "journeyman" back ran through those lanes on the way to his record four-touchdown game and a place in the record books behind only the Hall of Famer Eric Dickerson.

Kittle caught one ball. It was the biggest catch of the night, a 19-yard gain on first down with eight minutes to play and the Packers having cut the  lead to 14. Green Bay had thrown everything they had on defense into stopping the run in the fourth quarter, and they had been successful, forcing a critical three-and-out on three running plays after their failed onside kick. At the time, Jimmy Garoppolo-- hey, we finally mentioned his name!-- had not thrown a pass since the second quarter. This one let the air out of the Packers' tires, and three minutes later Robbie Gould's third field goal with 3:36 left made it 37-20 and turned Rodgers into General Lee, full of fight but out of time.

Robbie Gould! The ageless one still hasn't missed a field goal or extra point in the postseason, and he capped three drives that totaled 11 minutes with nine critical points, including the clincher.

DeForrest Buckner diving onto Rodgers' fumble at the 49er 25, late in the second quarter. Green Bay  had just put their first drive together, running the ball 4 times for 27 yards after Rodgers hit on a beautiful downfield pass.  Knowing who was at quarterback for the Packers, not a few of us were already mentally preparing for a 17-7 game. 60 yards and four minutes after the turnover, it was 20-0 instead, and then...

Emmanuel Moseley, who didn't even start a week ago, anticipating Rodgers' pass and beating Geronimo Allison to the ball on the interception that rendered the game un-competitive for the next 20 minutes. It was 27-0 at the half and 34-7 after three.

That man Deebo! Young Samuel, emerging as a star in this league, running the "Jet Sweep" twice on the same drive for 43 yards. He also caught two passes for 46 yards.

Eight passes. Who does Garoppolo think he is anyway, Bob Griese?



Eli's Going

Eli Manning retired this week after 16 years with the New York Giants. If you'll remember, he was even more heralded coming out of college than was big brother Peyton. Now, having wisely decided to let his legacy speak for him, he walks away with his health intact, and the Hall of Fame debate begins.

To us it's a no-brainer.  As Bill James said regarding qualifications for the baseball Hall of Fame, it's not that there is a player with Eli's qualifications who is in the Hall. It's that there is no player with Eli's qualifications who is not in the Hall of Fame. Yes, Jim Plunkett won two Super Bowls at quarterback, as did Eli, and he is not in. (We hope that will be rectified soon, while Mr Plunkett is still alive.) But only Bart Starr, Terry Bradshaw, Joe Montana, Tom Brady, and... Eli Manning have won multiple Super Bowl MVP awards. There would be no precedent for denying him entry into the Hall of Fame, though it may take a few years before it happens.



The Las Vegas Raiders

Well, they made it official yesterday, and we all may be grateful they didn't bastardize the name to "Vegas Raiders," which sounds like a bad TV movie from the early 1970s.

Laying aside the issue of Roger Goodell's warm embrace of public sports betting at this time-- who knows, he may be on to something, no one could possibly "fix" a game these days without the word getting out, and we trust his penalty for attempts at such would be harsh and merciless--  the move is not nearly as shocking as Al Davis' flight to Los Angeles 37 years ago, though the reasons for it are largely the same.

Oakland is a mess. The city government is a joke, with a mayor who ought to be in federal prison and likely depends on illegal votes to stay in office. The Coliseum Board remains answerable to no one but themselves. There is every chance they will lose the A's, too, though we hope not to an out-of-state location.

The population of the East Bay, with Oakland as its demographic center, is about 2.2 million as of the 2018 census. Greater Las Vegas, one of the fastest-growing cities in America, is about the same. And Las Vegas receives almost one million visitors per week on average. Per week!  Think any of 'em are football fans? Think fans from Green Bay, Boston, Baltimore, and Atlanta won't want to go to Vegas for a weekend and see their favorite team?

For the Oakland faithful, airfare to "Sin City" is about $100, so we're told. Consider that most season tickets are shared by groups these days. It's easy to imagine eight guys or four couples from the East Bay divvying up the eight home games into two weekend trips to Vegas each. And that's without having to sit in the decrepit Coliseum, park in Oakland, or ride BART. We expect the Raider fanbase in Oakland to handle this with enthusiasm. They'll still be the home team.

Sam Wyche

"I love you, man."

It's become a meme, a cliche; a stereotypical bonding moment between two tough guys, two macho men, good for a chuckle on TV commercials and social media.

But perhaps the root of it all was the emotional meeting between two dear friends, Sam Wyche and Bill Walsh, moments after Walsh's 49ers had overcome Wyche's Bengals in the final seconds of Super Bowl XXIII at Miami.  Wyche and his team had done everything in their power to win that game, neutralizing Joe Montana and Walsh's offense for three-plus quarters, abandoning their hurry-up offense in favor of a clock-devouring grind-it-out approach that came within one first down of the championship. And then Sam Wyche had to watch as it all was taken away by players coached by his close friend, his mentor, the man whom he knew, more than anyone, held the keys to the kingdom of fleeting success on a football field. 

Walsh was near collapse as he embraced the younger man at midfield. He'd coached him when Wyche was a quarterback with the Bengals. He'd hired him as his quarterbacks coach almost the moment he took over with the 49ers. He'd groomed him for success and then seen him achieve that success with his old team, Walsh's old team, too. Now he leaned on his friend for support, emotionally exhausted; "I love you," he blurted out. "I love you, too," Sam Wyche whispered, his arms around his coach.  That's the kind of man Sam Wyche was, not just gracious, but noble in defeat.

What kind of man was Sam Wyche, who passed away yesterday at 74? Consider: a man of accomplishments, a man who coached in and almost won a Super Bowl, a man whose face and voice were known to millions on television as he broadcast NFL games, this same man volunteered as a substitute teacher and assistant-- yes, assistant-- football coach at his local high school in Pickens, S.C., in the 2000s.  Sam Wyche, who nearly broke down when he broke the news to his team that one of their players, fullback Stanley Wilson, had to be suspended (and ultimately was banned from the NFL) for repeated cocaine abuse-- the night before Super Bowl XXIII. Sam Wyche, who on sleepless nights, his mind filled with X's and O's and tendencies, drove through downtown Cincinnati, stopping his car to talk football with the homeless. Sam Wyche, who donated his speaking engagement fees to those same homeless. Sam Wyche, a good old Georgia boy who loved his adopted hometown of Cincinnati and its people so much he passionately edified them, even as he chastised them, in a memorable public rant that will live forever on YouTube.

Bringing it home: Sam Wyche is indelibly associated with Bill Walsh and the rise of the 49ers. As a rookie quarterback he played for QB coach Walsh on Paul Brown's Cincinnati team for three years, as Walsh developed the offensive theories that would make him a legend. After his career had ended, Walsh tapped him to be the 49ers' quarterbacks coach in 1979; thus Sam Wyche was Joe Montana's first NFL position coach. He was relaying plays to Joe from the sideline in that glorious year of 1981, and he was one of Walsh's two top men in Super Bowl XVI as their offense and Chuck Studley's tough defense beat their former team, the Bengals.

He was well-equipped when he took the Cincinnati job three years later, and he built a winner in five. He was an innovator; his use of the "two-minute offense" throughout the game evoked cries of "Cheater!" from a few NFL rivals, comical as that may seem to fans today. Ironically, one of those, Marv Levy of Buffalo, was so offended by the strategy that he stole it for his own use, dubbed it the "K-Gun," and went to four straight Super Bowls with it. And Wyche's tactic of crowding the huddle with extra men to confuse the defense until just before the snap was so effective, the NFL outlawed the practice.  He was never afraid to look foolish in pursuit of his ideas, and he was always ready to give others the credit. We can look to a class act like Boomer Esiason, his quarterback in Cincinnati, for just one example of Sam Wyche's influence on a young man.

The world needs more like Sam Wyche, especially now that we've lost the original.  Prayers to his family and all those mourning with us this morning.