Candlestick Park: One Last Drop Back

One reason football makes other sports feel like watching checkers in heavy fog, is its iconic settings. Those big places, after all, are more than bricks and mortar, beer taps and urinal cakes, crumpled beer cups and forgotten ticket stubs under seats. They give meaning to the NFL. 

Along with Tom Brady's hair.

Soulless concrete stadiums enliven on game days because of the intangible energy that wraps around the field and its surrounding bleachers. It lifts players to rare heights and fans two feet from their seats, and lingers long after the final whistle. Atmosphere needs a place to swell. 

Sure, it might quieten each Monday, drowned out by the buzz of lawnmowers, the whip of sprinklers and sweeping brooms, and SportsCenter's 'Boo-yahs'. But any metaphysical matter that can fill an arena is capable of setting into its beams and lodging in crevices, both those within gray pylons and ourselves. It then stays a while. It's simply something that giant screens and wi-fi technology could never connect us to. 

Which is why it hurts to see such old places pulverised. 

Candlestick Park in San Francisco is slated for demolition later this year, according to SFGate.com, allowing for a prolonged farewell that may even include Paul McCartney doing a creaky version of Long Tall Sally. 

Ohhhh baby, we're gonna have some fun that night!

In the late summer of 1966, The Beatles added yet another layer to 'the Stick's' iconic fabric as only they could, in what was to be their final live show anywhere. The guitars twanged richly that evening, but it's hard to be sure over time, given the piercing screams that drown the show's lasting audio. Hitting fewer vocal peaks these days, I'm sure Sir Paul wouldn't mind those same squeals the next time around.

The Fab Four played their last live show at the Stick

It's indeed a cruel twist fate that awaits all venerable stadiums sitting on prime real estate: Developers eventually catch up to rising markets and no amount of NFL memorabilia could outstrip the value of a building on Candlestick Point. No, men with grand visions, grander than bulldozing from the backfield to the end zone, that is, chase these sorts of opportunities down like the Coyote after the Roadrunner. If they catch you, your team as you know it, is through.

If only Roger Craig was still running.

How things change. One day you're wondering if Montana can hit Rice on a fade, the next Montana's saying things like he was never that enamoured with the park anyway.

Joe, say it isn't so?

The Stick, glorious home of the mighty 49ers for more than 40 years, will supposedly turn into a shopping mall and some residential space. To progress nowadays, it seems, you must supplant history - with a few walk-in wardrobes.

Niners quarterback John Brodie, 1971

The Niners are moving to Santa Clara, a decent commute south of San Francisco, and into a $1.2 billion home which is near complete. All that's apparently missing from the new Levi's Stadium is its Bandera Bermuda grass, and the players new denim pants. Okay I made that second part up. But they will be wearing denim jocks.

Listen, I get that things - especially big cement things - become outdated. Seats shrink and scoreboards expand. Paint peels and toilets decay. Where it was once easy to find a spot for a LeBaron, an SUV is different proposition. 

A visual of the new stadium in Santa Clara

Yes, the new digs look pretty swish and will fast fill the Niners backdrop. Hey, shivering in the upper deck on an icy Monday night, might just become a distant memory. That's what we're aiming for, right? Before you know it, you'll be making crazy comments like you were never a fan of the old park. 

But I'll miss the place, typified by the lively bus ride through town and neighborhood streets, down to the arena where the winds are so fierce there's no justifiable reason to punt a football. But the 49ers did so anyway. And also rolled out plays that delighted fans so much, for so long.

The images and sounds of them all, the many memories, still huddle around the Stick's old walls, waiting for the next great play to be called.

Coach Walsh helps Joe look for his keys

First ones here, and we'll be the first to leave!

And they said Sochi wouldn't be ready

NFL Cool Rankings: The Quest For The Holy Grail

With only four teams left to pursue the Super Bowl’s Holy Grail, it remains to be seen who escapes the series of traps left within the playoff temple. The path to the Vince Lombardi Trophy can be a treacherous one to be sure, especially with that old knight Walt Coleman patrolling the sidelines.

“Only the penitent man shall pass!” he cries.

But are there such men in this year’s crop of quarterback heroes?

First, there's Brady, who is unforgiving. Then Manning, who seems more like an everyman. How about the two young guns, Kaepernick and Wilson, who both strut the park with more bravado than prized poodles at Westminster?

Indeed, there’s no room for internalizing in the modern game. Strut! Stride! Charge! Or be charged. Run, or be roughhoused. Or rocked. That's why the older guys get rid it of it so quickly, you see.

Truth is, time is also running out. For Brady and Manning, this may be the last hurrah. For Wilson and Kaepernick it might be just the start of many blue ribbons. They're the future, or so everybody is telling us. 

Whether you side with these players, and their teams, may ultimately be framed by their cultural impact (hashtag - leaping onto a cool bandwagon).

So for the indecisive and uninitiated, here’s a quick guide to the coolness levels of the four remaining contenders.

1. Seattle Seahawks

The Hawks are the hottest team in cool colors since the Blue Man Group. They’re still hot, right? 

Anyway, you can’t help but like Wilson. He’s so slick. So fast. So cool. And can throw. Plus, his post-game comments are the stuff of, I don't know, a senator. A good senator, one without a lascivious past. He makes you believe. 

Then there’s that animal Beast Mode – a.k.a. Marshawn Lynch. Man he’s scary. He looks like the Predator, for crying out loud. 

So, if don’t have a horse in this race and need one, it’s hard to look past the suddenly favorited ringless underdog.

2. Denver Broncos

The Broncos defense is menacing. That’s what football fans say. The uniform is rich. That’s what fashionistas say. The air is rarified. That's what the media says. The old 'D' logo was once impenetrable and therefore legendary. That’s what I say.

Speaking of legends, how about Peyton Manning? They don’t come much bigger. Or better. Or humbler. He seems like a great guy. A man who studies the game more earnestly than that nerdy dude in your fantasy league who's so very pedantic on trades. What gives with that? I just need another receiver, guy. Pull the trigger. 

Anyway, if you believe in miracles - and Peyton winning at age 37 post serious injury is one - Denver should be your team. 

"Omaha! Omaha!" 

3. New England Patriots

Look, even as a neutral observer I’m finding it tough to recommend the Pats. They’re just too dynastic. Too conniving. I mean Belichick and Brady are the Gargamel and Azrael of the NFL, aren't they? Everyone else are Smurfs, scurrying for survival. And you know who Vanity is right….?

4. San Francisco 49ers

Yes, Colin Kaepernick loves to kiss his arms. Give the man a mirror and put a flower in his hat! I’m sorry but....yes he can run. Great. He sometimes even throws it well. Other times, when he's not congratulating himself, he does the two simultaneously, like a tattooed cyborg that’s short-circuiting. In fact, I’m convinced Jim Harbaugh built Kaepernick in his basement as part of an elaborate plan to unseat Alex Smith, win a Super Bowl, and more importantly, the hearts and minds of every Gen Y fan out there.

Cool Rankings: Football's trending teams

1. Philadelphia Eagles

Many in the media are obsessed with Philly. Whether booed, ballyhooed or berated, the Eagles trend upward because Sal Paolantonio and Co. treat the color of Andy Reid’s underpants as breaking news. (Side note: Reid's y-fronts are a game-time decision).

2. Kansas City Chiefs

The talk is Kansas City are in the driver’s seat for next year’s top draft pick---you'd assume a quarterback. Sure, Cassel has underwhelmed. But isn’t it entirely possible he’s playing with a tainted deck? There’s certainly no ace, a couple of queens, and more than a few jokers. Cassel’s real problem is lucky No.7---it’s too much to live up to when your o-line has nothing up its sleeve.

3. Chicago Bears

A few weeks back, Chicago was touted as a juggernaut by many of the talking heads. Then Cutler was crunched, the defense was buried in burden, and Jason Campbell forgot quarterback is a job that requires you to be conscious. Now the Bears are back, fulfilling their usual hype at the onset of winter.

4. New England Patriots

New England fans keep telling us they worry about their team’s defense. "Oh, thy secondary!" they cry. The running game is lackluster, they claim. Even Brady’s hair has lost some sheen, so say Boston stylists. Meanwhile, the Pats continue the charge. Don’t expect this approach to change until the Giants refund their New Orleans flights.

5. San Francisco 49ers

Kaepernick! The 49ers haven’t had this much press since Singletary dropped his Dockers. Things have come full circle: Coach Jim Harbaugh pulled Alex Smith’s pants down before the smelling salts even kicked in. Rest assured, Smith is still "his guy".

Kaepernick sitting pretty

Alex Smith, a man with an average name, is said to have average quarterbacking skills. In some circles, quarterbacks that successfully manage an offense and limit errors, are a valuable commodity. In others, they are a kind of pariah, undermining creativity, or spontaneity, or something.

Whatever the problem with these quarterbacks---as opposed to bulging, happy-footed wildcards---the NFL enjoys the competition the same way John Hughes dedicated himself to the study of nerds versus studs. And this is where our pro football/retro movie study begins.

Remember Hughes’ Pretty in Pink in which Molly Ringwald’s character, Andie, is smitten with preppie Blane while pal Duckie plays second fiddle? Well, if Blane was a quarterback, he’d be the 49ers’ Colin Kaepernick. Stay with me here. That would make Smith Duckie, and Coach Jim Harbaugh Andie. (Ringwald’s characters often rubbed others the wrong way, so this analogy isn’t as big a stretch as you might think).

What Hughes unpacked so eloquently in his stories, was the hope of something better. Many of his protagonists stumble into popularity only after facing a lifetime of heartache. In some instances, Pretty in Pink being one of them, the chief character is so infatuated with the idea of leaping from the wrong side of the tracks, that when she meets success, all other options pale in comparison.

So, of course, once Kaepernick strutted onto the scene, Smith paled in the eyes of Harbaugh. Not because he was underperforming, throwing too many picks, or complained that Candlestick's winds were ruffling his beard. No, it's because like Duckie, he's reliable, but will never make your heart flutter. The cooler and outwardly more confident Kaepernick apparently will---some say he already has---having worked his mojo into Harbaugh’s heart with intermediate experience. Something tells me the edgy coach favors tattoos and goatees over clean cut niceties. 

With Smith nursing a concussion, Kaepernick has surely stepped up in two games. He’s tossed three touchdowns and 680 yards, and has an astronomical passer rating for a young QB. Yes, the 49ers look good with "Kaep" behind center. So much so that a number of pundits are claiming he has earned his chance. In truth, he's earned the chance about as much as Andrew McCarthy's sports jacket gave his character street cred.

Okay, the Niners are glimmering right now. But weren't they with Smith anyway? In 16 games last season, Smith threw for 3,144 yards, 17 touchdowns and just five interceptions---remember? That was good enough to lift the Niners from irrelevancy and propel them into Super Bowl contention. But that was last year. So, for posterity's sake, let it be re-stated here that Smith, to this point in 2012, has thrown 13 touchdowns, completed 70% of his passes, and notched the best passer rating of his career (104). Listen, those are just numbers. If you need proof, revisit his superb scrambling and deft passing in last season's playoff against the Saints. 

It seems quarterbacks, like underappreciated spouses, are vulnerable to the fading light of late autumn. What once seemed lithe, energetic, and full of prospect, suddenly moves in unflattering tones. Smith, though once heralded, has never really been appreciated in San Francisco, at least not by Niners brass. As the top pick in 2005, the sleight and cerebral QB was destined to struggle. Not even supersonic Cam Newton has overcome doubters as the No.1 pick---what chance did Smith ever have? It quickly became apparent he had entered into a one-sided affair in which he'd never find true happiness. Now with the rise of Kaepernick, Smith’s fate as a 49er has been sealed. He’s Jon Cryer, minus the Emmy.

Hey, good luck to Harbaugh, but Smith deserves better. The current 49ers "quarterback controversy", a re-imagining of the Montana – Young duel of 1991, reflects an outcome that’s too commonly accepted in the NFL: that the "other guy" always has greater potential. Of course he has greater potential because nobody knows what that potential is. For this reason, the back-up quarterback, the unproven talent, the unfulfilled fantasy, should be the aspiration of every young signal-caller. Ask Tim Tebow, he'll tell you. He's kneeling in gratitude before the football deity as we speak. 

So here's to a happy ending for Smith. The great John Hughes, at the very least, would have wanted it that way.

Alex Smith Superstar

Alex Smith plays the minimalist as the 49ers quarterback. There’s nothing wrong with that, especially when you’re fielding a signal-caller with a history of apprehension. Not to mention that San Francisco is where the minimal 6-8 yard pass was popularized.

Joe Montana did his fair share of dinking, mostly because he had streaking receivers like John Taylor and Jerry Rice to make up any yardage setbacks. But Joe Cool also threw a beautiful deep ball that always seemed to float down into the hands of his receivers tearing down the sideline.

While it’s not fair to compare any quarterback to Joe Montana, you can’t help but see a little of No. 16 in Smith, particularly when he makes that quick out or flat route pass with such accuracy. Heck, he even looks like Joe with the brim of his helmet low over the eyebrows. His release is quick and clean too, and produces a catchable, lowly-zipped delivery. And like Montana in the West Coast scheme, most of his passes travel short distances to receivers who are yet to be swallowed up by corners. It’s a rhythmic, timing based game that Smith appears adept at. He's mastered the two-step drop and release.

Early Monday night, however, Smith missed easy opportunities and looked more like the QB from 2006. On his second-quarter bomb to the end zone, he overthrew Michael Crabtree, mainly because he prematurely ducked away and lost sight of the runner. It was a familiar Smith era move. True to old form, he also tossed some passes wide, low and sometimes high. And worse still, he didn’t have much excuse because the offensive line closed off the space around him, erasing the Steeler’s Fire-X rush altogether.

But soon after, as if in time for Christmas, visions of Joe again danced in our heads. Smith began focusing up field, especially when he had a speedy receiver like Ted Ginn open, or a bulky pair of arms on offer, like those attached to Vernon Davis. He hit Davis on perfect loop in the third quarter for the Niners first play over 20 yards in the game. The throw had superb touch, reminiscent of lobs from Montana to Taylor up the middle.

But perhaps the most stunning Smith-led play Monday was the “all in to the right”, which drifted the entire scrimmage one way, with Smith then planting hard and tossing a beautiful arc to Davis in the opposite direction. It was this play more than any other that hurt the Steelers, and in turn, marked Smith’s long overdue arrival on the national stage. Not even power outages could dim these Niner fireworks.

If he continues to execute these creative plays which demand more challenging throws - that ask him to really work the defense - there’s no reason the 49ers can’t march to the NFC championship game. Okay, Smith might not be Montana, but his poise, mobility and accuracy on key plays could be enough to bring the Gold Rush back to the Bay.

The Battle of the Bay

The idea of California football always appealed to me. Its dusty 50-yard line and sun baked bleachers were the antithesis of traditionalist football - winter winds, heavy snow, frozen tundras. The latter was harsh and messy, evoking icy crunches and cracks. They were bruising affairs that mired Midwestern and Mid-Atlantic teams in muddy trench warfare. The Californian game, by contrast, was brighter, more dazzling. Its football soared and its players blazed. Touchdowns were plentiful.

The type of blue horizon backdrops and sweet lemonade-infused days I'm referring to are San Francisco 49ers games of the Eighties. Football was never more romanticized than those glorious years, during which Joe Montana surveyed the field behind center, dropped back to pass and fired the ball into the hands of John Taylor or Jerry Rice skipping across Candlestick. Forty-Niners football always seemed to be cool and calm, free-flowing and determined. Sure, in reality, it  might have been a little chilly by the bay, and there were probably more imperfections than I can recall, but on television it always looked sunny, and the red and gold uniforms appeared, well, gladiatorial.

So it was certainly deflating to see the 49ers collide with their closest rivals the Oakland Raiders last weekend, in a contest that was a mere shadow of former glories. After all, the "Battle of the Bay", while usually confined to the preseason, is a competition and tradition clubs in remote corners of the map must salivate over. Here you have the golden glitz of the Niners, the team that took the West Coast offense to new heights, against the NFL's footballing pirates, a brand that embodies more than toughness - perhaps brutality. You couldn't script a better story if you were Steve Sabol of NFL Films.

Unfortunately for fans of both teams, Sunday's battlefront was more stunning in the stands than on the field, and in this instance, that's a tragedy.

Alex Smith looked better in the pocket and in delivery, but that's not saying much when you're coming from a state of disarray. Smith just doesn't apply enough zip on the ball, though he is releasing it more quickly these days. His feet look hurried, which my be why his passes are popping out like a pinched grape. One throw to Braylon Edwards - who made a spectacular single handed grab - gave hope. Then a floater to the Raider defensive end Matt Shaughnessy defused any excitement possibly brewing in the stands.

Meanwhile, Oakland's Jason Campbell continued his penchant for clutching the ball too long. On one occasion it hindered his ability to find the open man in the back of the end zone, and on another, his final play of the day, Campbell took a stray knee to the helmet and was forced to leave. It's probably better that he had extra time to think over this performance.

If not for Daniel Kilgore's fine block in the middle of the park that stalled three Raider defenders and sprung Kendall Hunter for a 53-yard touchdown sprint, this day might have felt like a great waste. And if the 17-3 scoreline wasn't crushing enough, it's now apparent that the weekend's fan violence has prompted police to seek a permanent ban on this famed match-up.

So now we're left to reminisce decades past, when those shiny gold helmets furiously knocked about sunny California with the scary silver ones. And it was really fun to watch.

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