I’m a dye-in-the-wool 49ers fan. The Steve Young-to-Jeff Garcia variety. I’m too young to recall Young’s world-beating performance against the San Diego Chargers in Super Bowl XXIX, so my first real Niners memory involves Jeff Garcia, Terrell Owens, and the greatest comeback bid in California sports history.
On the other hand, I grew up a diehard, tough-luck UCLA sports fan. I suffered through Karl Dorrell and Steve Lavin, and rejoiced in the fall of Pete Carroll and his plastic dynasty at the University of Southern California. My love for the Bruins remained even after I realized they had no proper school of mass communications (and when I moved to Texas in high school).
In 2010, Carroll decided to take his smarmy tactics from the college game to the pros, and I guffawed at the prospect of ol’ Pete in showery Seattle with a mediocre Seahawks team which had no ambitions for a division title, let alone a Super Bowl. But of course, my Niners were dumping a heap of you-know-what over the San Francisco Bay. (In an odd twist, I’m a Dodger fan, so I thoroughly despise the Giants. Remember, Candlestick Park housed them for over 40 years.)
The next season was promising. Out went Mike Singletary, who came with all the warm fluffiness of a military drill instructor. In came Jim Harbaugh, fodder for bad NFL lip-reading videos. The stars were aligned as Andrew Luck, Harbaugh’s well-groomed quarterback at Stanford University, was supposed to make the big jump to the league in 2011. While Luck didn’t, his ex-coach found a way to whip a talented yet undercoached team into shape. Championship-level talent, mind you.
Somehow, a coach managed to nudge much-maligned quarterback Alex Smith up a level (or two), from “unproductive bust” to “game manager extraordinaire”. The Niners rode their feel-good momentum into a 12-win season and a stupid/unlucky Kyle Williams fumble away from the Super Bowl – a date with the New England Patriots. I cursed Williams all week long. My father – himself a Niners supporter, through thick and thin – was genuinely disappointed.
Meanwhile, in Washington State, Carroll had quietly been laying down the foundation for a Manchester City-like spinaround on football supremacy. Its genesis was the Marshawn Lynch run of the 2010-11 playoffs (recall that Lynch was a waiver-wire pickup, and the Seahawks were 7-9 hosting a game against the defending champion New Orleans Saints). Although there was a hiccup in the process — the 2011 ‘Hawks had the same record as 2010 and missed the playoffs courtesy of the Niners — Seattle began to boil over as a real challenge to the uprising 49ers out West.
Meanwhile, let’s connect the Luck story over to Peyton Manning. At the same time Seattle and San Francisco were reconstructing themselves into football powerhouses, the mighty Indianapolis Colts watched their franchise icon, good old No. 18, undergo neck surgery — twice — and jeopardize their fortunes for an entire season. (“Suck for Luck?” Perhaps.) They were rewarded with the right to select Luck, the Stanford alum, with the first pick in the 2012 NFL Draft. Meanwhile, Manning had seen the last of his days in Colt blue and was sent out to pasture (no pun intended) with the Denver Broncos.
The Niners fan in me was incredibly pumped for the 2012 season, especially with the watch parties my friends held in college. Through those social events, I watched San Francisco nearly crumble when Alex Smith was hurt, and watched San Francisco rise again when we found out Colin Kaepernick was way better than expected. He was the catalyst of a surprisingly dominant run to the Super Bowl, where the 49ers fell to the Baltimore Ravens and sent Ray Lewis out dancing. (Beyonce and the lights did nothing to alleviate my pain.)
Too bad, there was more pain on the horizon.
The Seahawks were getting … better under Pete Carroll. The ol’ college coach was still as energetic and fiery as he was in college, but somehow that energy that no one believed could work for a professional football team translated into something bigger. The Seahawks got new jerseys, new colors, and a new attitude. They traded for a quarterback and ended up starting their third-round pick instead (and watched as he blossomed into a star). They even finished 11-5 in 2011 and were a few plays away from dancing with the Niners in the NFC title game.
Then 2013 happened.
The Niners were wobbly and inconsistent; the Seahawks were loud, proud, and soaring. San Francisco won 12 games to Seattle’s 13, including a big loss on the Hawks’ home field. (Cue the whole “12th Man” nonsense.) Once the playoffs rolled around, the Niners had awoken! They spent all of January dismantling the Packers, shushing the Panthers, and sending a message to the football-viewing public that the San Francisco 49ers were for real. (Cue the whole “Candlestick Memories” nonsense.)
People still ask me about the final play of the Niners-Seahawks game, which all but sealed it for the Legion of Boom as the NFL’s most feared defense. And everyone grins at me when they bring up Richard Sherman’s blood-boiling diss of Michael Crabtree, Red Raider turned 49er, in the postgame interview after the NFC title.
Being the salty 49er and ex-UCLA Bruin fan that I am, I proclaimed upon high temples that there was no way possible the Seahawks were going to defeat mighty Peyton and his vaunted Bronco offense. He threw 55 touchdowns; who bets against that? He had a receiving corps; who bets against that? He had Red Raider lovers slobbering over Wes Welker; who bets against…THAT?
Well, I looked foolish on Sunday. Manning looked slow, old, fragile and confused. The Seattle Seahawks looked menacing, unforgiving, and kept the pressure coming. They were relentless. They scored 43 points to Denver’s eight. I got to hear about the 12th Man and Pete Carroll’s resurrected coaching legacy and USC and dominance and Jim Harbaugh is a crybaby all night long.
I saw the evolution of football as it was: defense still trumps offense, Peyton Manning can never be the greatest quarterback of all-time, and I probably should stop being so jealous and start being more appreciative. For the 49ers, their time is coming. I can see it. Next season will ring anew.
But I’m still not putting Tom Brady over Manning.
Yet.
Philip Arabome is a sophomore journalism major from Long Beach, Calif. He’s also lived in Houston, but he says that’s irrelevant. He doubles as the Sports Director at KTXT-FM in Lubbock and is the host of the Walk-Off. He also writes for RaiderPower.com (but you subscribe to that site, sorry). Follow him on Twitter: @PhillyBeach93