by Erik Klackner
Maybe it wasn’t the coach after all.
Amazingly, it appears that no matter who coaches the team, having arguably the least talented starting roster in the NFL makes it difficult to win. Furthermore, being beset by injuries to key players doesn’t seem to help the cause either.
In a game that yours truly labeled a must-win in a previous column, the 2005 San Francisco 49ers took a page from the 2004 San Francisco 49ers and got whipped by perennial doormat (and lone cause of victory last season) Arizona on national television. I would like to say, in my own defense (a defense that I would consider selling to the 49ers for a box of donuts and a cheap to moderately priced hooker), that when I wrote the article in question, Julian Peterson, Jonas Jennings, and Arnaz Battle were not expected to miss the game. Perhaps that information would change one’s outlook, but even then, based on how they played for most of the game against Dallas, that same one would have every reason to believe that they could compete and win the contest.
Not so much.
Scientists may still be trying to figure out the mysteries of time travel, but if they haven’t consulted the 49ers, they might want to look into it. This game was eerily reminiscent of 2004, when the 49ers were the laughing stock of the NFL, and they appear poised to return to that same pit of destruction again this season. And somewhere, probably his house, I have to wonder what was running through Dennis Erickson’s mind watching the festivities on Sunday night.
Could you blame him for laughing? Punching a wall? Drinking? All of the above? Here’s a man who was completely thrown under a bus by the 49ers organization, blamed for their failures in 2004 by team owner Dr. John York, and sent packing just 2 years into a 5-year deal that was signed when the team was still laden with veteran talent. After a 7-9 record in 2003 (which could have easily been 10-6 or 11-5 if they had anyone with shoes other than Owen Pochman and Co.), the 49ers cut bait with virtually all of that veteran talent, leaving the carcass, also known as what you see now, for Erickson to rot with. And he did. And he was fired for it. But guess what?
Apparently it isn’t just attitude. Surprisingly, talent and health play the most important parts in the melodrama that is the NFL. Dennis Erickson in 2004 didn’t have any. Mike Nolan in 2005 doesn’t have any. Whoops.
A man with the reputation for being an unbelievably miserly, tight-fisted bastard like Dr. York surely is having nightmares over that $20 million he forked over to rid himself of Erickson and former GM Terry Donahue. That, and waking up next to Denise York would make any man go into crisis mode. And who could blame him? After enduring an off-season in which he took unrelenting heat for the poor performance in 2004, Dr. York took the bull by the horns and made changes. Some changes.
Mike Nolan, after an impressive victory in Week 1 over arch-rival St. Louis, has watched his team get completely beaten senseless by an elite Philadelphia Eagles squad, lose a close game to rival Dallas in which they held the lead for most of the game, and completely tank in front of an international audience on ESPN (the only game of any TV significance the 49ers have this year). If Baltimore weren’t struggling almost as badly as the 49ers, Nolan would probably be second-guessing that gutsy decision to take this job. And who could blame him?
Injuries appear destined to destroy yet another season of 49ers football. Having the least amount of talent is hard enough, but to have large chunks of that talent taken away by Mother Ailment makes the job impossible. Yes, I said impossible. If the 49ers season continues to progress as it has so far, they will almost assuredly finish with the worst record in the league yet again, something Nolan said from day 1 he never wanted to experience. But how can you not when you’re fighting a battle that no one in their right mind would ever agree to fight? It is a task that simply cannot be accomplished by any coach, no matter who it is.
Which brings me back to the title of this piece: Here’s To You, Dennis Erickson. You endured a season of what Mike Nolan finds himself mired in as I write this, and you made it through alive. Unemployed, but alive. The fans in San Francisco treated you like an absolute dog. And now the joke’s on us.
Koo-koo-ka-choo Dennis Erickson. Jesus loves you more than you may know.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
