Please, David. Make this kick.

This one is important, much more than the one three weeks ago. Oh, sure, another miss would mean another tie, or even a loss, after another soul-crushing day. But more than the last, we need this one.

Or more precisely, Colin Kaepernick needs it.

This past week, he'd found himself in the eye of a storm. Jim Harbaugh had made it official (or about as official as he ever makes anything): he was going to do the unprecedented. More than halfway through the year, a season with serious Super Bowl dreams, he'd be changing quarterbacks, voluntarily. No doubt, in light of Kaepernick's thrilling debut, Harbaugh received a slew of support, both from fans and from pundits alike. But the move was so bold—or arrogant—there were those who'd be waiting, or even hoping, to see the thing blow up in his face.

And I'm not even talking about the racists, more disgusting than any tattoo.

For his first game as the "official" starter, Kaepernick was rematched with the Rams, who'd squeaked out that tie three weeks before. Coupled with the roll he was on, that sense of unfinished business seemed to augur a blowout. And indeed, it seemed, we were on our way. Our D, clearly aware of the tie's early flatness, resumed its usual suffocation. Kaepernick, meanwhile, engineered a nice touchdown drive. And even as the Rams' D started clamping down—squelching the run, rushing the pass, and guarding against anything, anything deep—we were on our way, or so it seemed.

But then came the safety. Though it wasn't too big a deal by itself, it was a gloomy sign of trouble ahead. Not just on the scoreboard, but more so for Kaepernick. You knew right away. No one would talk about the immediate pressure, which forced him to retreat straight back. No one would note that among his most impressive traits is his ability to get out of a fix like this. And naturally, no one would care that the refs blew the call, turning a good play into a phony mistake.

We'd hear only this: "See? Alex Smith would've just taken a sack! I told you so!"

This is why he needs you, David.

Oh, sure, he made a quick recovery. That's another of his most impressive traits: he seems to take failure personally. It seems, indeed, to piss him off. And so, despite starting out at the one, he responded with an amazing drive: 8 minutes, 13 plays, 94 yards. A touchdown would've been better, of course, but at least your field goal restored some order.

But next came the pitch. This, of course, was a real mistake, and there's no excuse. Though many (including Harbaugh) criticized the playcall, I'll never question creative offense. And though fairness demands the observation that Ted Ginn had to fall on the ball, kick it out of bounds, anything but do what he did, Kaepernick nobly took the blame: he'd simply tried to do too much.

Yet we'd hear only this: "See? Alex Smith would've just taken a sack! I told you so!"

Indeed, no one would care about anything else. The way that Kaepernick responded again, with a 50-yard run and a perfect winning-touchdown pass, which Delanie Walker predictably dropped. The way that Dashon Goldson fueled the Rams' tying drive with another silly penalty. The way that Harbaugh couldn't find a place for LaMichael James, who was drafted to be the change of pace that we desperately needed since last week's carnage. And the way that Greg Roman was spooked into a Raye-like shell, running Frank Gore again and again, including on this final drive, when he seemed perfectly willing to settle for a 50-yard field-goal attempt.

David, I know it's not last year anymore. I know you're not in perfect health (or so we're told). But someone's gotta pick up this kid. He made his mistake, but he responded by putting us in position to win, not once but twice. And yet, if you miss, we'll hear only about the mistake.

You know how the blogosphere is. The babbling will be horrible. After last week, the big story was Harbaugh's genius, for having the guts to make this move. Now we'll hear how stupid he was, to mess with what was working so well. The I-told-you-sos will be insufferable.

And, of course, they will also be silly. Though many Niner fans seem to have forgotten this, a real quarterback's #1 job is not, in fact, to avoid mistakes. His #1 job is to make plays, which will put his team in position to win. So yeah, Kaepernick made a big mistake—on a stupid pitch, not even a pass—but he compensated with several big plays, plays that Smith wouldn't have even attempted. And more importantly, he put his team in position to win.

But he can't do it all himself. And that's where you come in, David. In fact, you represent the essence of all this knee-jerk foolishness. If you make this kick, the story will be that Kaepernick overcame a tough day and delivered a gritty victory. If you miss, the story will be—no matter how absurd it sounds—"Gosh, if only we still had Alex Smith."

You've had a rough year, David. After being so automatic last season, you're now a coin-toss—essentially unreliable—from 40-yards-plus. From beyond 50, you've made exactly one, and that was from 63, on opening day. So Roman was crazy to settle for this, as if this were some kind of chip-shot.

But please, David. Save us. Save us from the myopic chatter about Kaepernick's having lost this game. Save us from the silly notion that we could make it all the way to the Super Bowl if only our QB would throw short and take sacks. (And while you're at it, save yourself; if you miss not one but two game-winners, do you seriously think you'll get a chance at a third?)

We need this one. Or more precisely, Colin Kaepernick needs it.

Please, David. Make this kick.