The last time there was an in season coaching change for the 49ers was two years ago when Mike Nolan was fired and Mike Singletary became interim HC. The team’s initial response to this upheaval was a lifeless beat down AT HOME by the Seahawks. The infamous self-de-pantsing at half time game. The one where a now equally infamous “rat” made his first ghostly appearance somewhere in the rafters of 4949 Centennial Blvd.
I bring this up to prepare myself for Sunday’s game ON THE ROAD against the Atlanta Falcons. It’s been my experience in life that occasionally the only way to will your team to victory from your living room couch is to convince yourself that there is no chance whatsoever that they will win. When Sunday arrives, I’ll be ready to accept defeat as soon as the coin is tossed to start the game.
If the score is 21-0 eight minutes into the first quarter, I’ll just be shrugging, giving it the know-it-all blase knew this would happen attitude. Watching the game won’t be difficult. It’ll be like observing an autopsy. “Hmmm. Removing the heart here, I see. Tiny little sucker. Whats’ next?” Taking a detached retina peek at new OC Mike Johnson’s offense. Making a calm assessment about what he’s doing different than Jimmy Raye. Heck, all he has to do is keep Moran Norris off the field and I’ll chalk this game up as a plus.
It will be a day for couch observation comments like, “What do you know, we completed a pass. Amazing.” Or, “Not bad. We actually kept them from scoring on that drive. At least we made them punt once today.”
I’ll be dressed to the hilt with There’s No Way We Can Win This Game armor. If the score is still tied by the end of the first quarter, I’ll be shaking my head and saying, “Unbelievable luck, Niners. Get ready to be killed.”
If the team makes it to halftime and is still in the game, I’ll drag out the “At least we weren’t totally embarrassed today” victory in defeat attitude. During halftime, I’ll prepare myself by holding an inbrain neuron betting pool for the exact moment the team will suddenly collapse and be routed mercilessly in the second half. First Falcons drive? Second? Third? It’s gotta come soon.
If the Niners somehow start the 4th quarter anywhere within a touchdown of the lead, I’ll be pounding the table with “You bastards. You can’t fool me. You’ll choke this baby in a heartbeat. C’mon, you egg layers, show your true selves here. Knock off the false hope baloney.”
If the game gets to the two minute warning and we still have a chance to win, I’ve already got my sure fire once-in-awhile “fan victory producer when victory is not possible” action ready to go. I’ll turn off the TV. Eff you, Niners. I’m not watching you blow this game in the last two minutes. No way. You can’t suck me in. I’ll take a nice early afternoon walk now and check back to watch the afternoon game and see the loss posted in the scores of other games inset. Ready for the “See. I knew it. They lost.”
IF, however, there is a WIN posted on the screen, I will smile humbly to myself and say, “Whadda ya know. It worked. I did it. I won this game for the Niners. Hahaha. I wonder if they know the victory is all because of me.”
Then I will find some way on earth to get a replay of that last two minutes. Oh yeah.