You again.
Yes, me again.
Look, don't even start, okay? We were at Seattle. That was a loss from the moment the schedule first came out. We were gonna lose there, just like all eight road-teams lost there last year. We are still the league's best, but at the Clink it just doesn't matter. We go there, we lose. Just accept it and move on.
That's pathetic. When you're the league's best—though, clearly, we're really not—you beat anyone, anywhere. Montana's Niners once won 18 road games in a row; plenty of those were in hostile arenas. Did we ever say, "Oh, dear me, it's too tough to win there"? Hell, no. Instead we just went there and tore the place down. So spare me your excuses. It's just a little noise, for crissake.
A little noise?! You do realize that those whack-jobs set a record for the loudest stadium ever recorded, right? They disrupt the opponent; that's just a fact. And when you run an intricate offense like ours—with all the presnap reads and adjustments—you're disrupted even more. We tried to dumb things down, and you saw the result. 3 points, 207 total yards. Last week Anquan Boldin had more by himself!
Here's the problem, though. In case you haven't noticed, the Seahawks are in our division. We go to Seattle every year. If you're gonna concede that we'll LOSE every year, then you're dangerously close to conceding the division. And if we don't win the division, then guess what? Come playoff time—if we make it at all—guess where we'll probably have to go?
But we lost there last year too; we still won the division, and then won the conference. Granted, my "concession" makes our home-game with Seattle monumentally important; obviously, we can't get swept. But we'll win that game—at least THIS year—and we'll win the division for the same reason: on the road, Seattle is average. Were you that impressed with their dozen points at Carolina?
Seattle is better than they were last year; there's no way they'll repeat three-and-five on the road. Don't give me the score at Carolina. What matters is that they BEAT Carolina, and they'll beat us for the same reason: they're better. Forget about the noisy crowd, and find me one advantage we had on the field. Quarterback? No. Running back? Nope. Receiving corps? GOD no. Offensive line? No way. (Why ours continues to be deemed the league's best is totally beyond me.) Defense and special teams? No and no. The Seahawks are simply better, and they'd beat us at the Clink, at the 'Stick, or on the moon.
My WORD you're overreacting. Yeah, sure, our offense struggled, gaining only 4.1 yards per play. But you know how many yards per play the Seahawks gained? 4.1! And don't forget, the score was only five-zip at halftime, and even in the fourth quarter it was a two-possession game. Don't be fooled by the final score; that was a close, hard-fought game that came down to two things: turnovers and penalties. You can bet by December we'll have those cleaned up.
Why, because Jim Harbaugh is our coach? It's time to face some facts here. Harbaugh might be a tactical genius—though he certainly didn't prove it on Sunday—but his crazy intensity is out of control, and it's starting to rub off on his players. That's two straight games with double-digit penalties, and the ones in Seattle—especially the three personal-fouls, including two when it was still a game—were just appalling. The Seahawks tried to get into our heads, and stupidly we couldn't resist. And you know what's most annoying? What's most annoying is that the Seahawks are truly a bunch of punks—with an utter snake of a head coach—yet thanks to Harbaugh's raging testosterone ("come with some knuckles"), WE'RE the team that everyone hates. The heir to Walsh? Walsh would be ashamed.
Look, I'm not thrilled with Harbaugh's antics. But if they're the price of his "tactical genius"—which by now no one can seriously doubt—then I'll gladly pay it. He's the league's best coach by a hundred miles. Sure, he's capable of getting pantsed. But give him enough chances, and he'll figure you out. Crazily intense or not, he's steady enough to outwit you. He certainly won't be outwitted (or outwitted AGAIN) by the likes of Pete Carroll.
I'll agree with you there. But it isn't just about the coaches. We're facing a serious talent gap. I'd never trade Colin Kaepernick for Russell Wilson, but when you match our receivers against their secondary—and theirs against ours—well, you saw for yourself. I remember reading a prediction that our lack of receiving depth would cost us a game, and it was our biggest problem on Sunday. Richard Sherman took Boldin away, and even with a backup corner on the other side, no one else could get open. (And though it's not his fault, Vernon Davis reminded us that he really isn't a wide receiver. That's before he got HURT, of course.) And since we couldn't stretch the field with the pass, Seattle was able to stuff the run. Meanwhile, our own secondary continued to leak, and now that our defensive line is thinning out...the gap is only going to grow.
You're wrong. Sure, RIGHT NOW, our receiving corps is laughable. (Remember all the preseason hype about Marlon Moore? Pfft.) But by December, Michael Crabtree and Mario Manningham will both be back. On D we'll add Tank Carradine, Quinton Dial, and Eric Wright. I know, I know; Seattle will add Brandon Browner, Bruce Irvin, and Percy Harvin. But with a title-worthy receiving corps, we'll be 100% better than we were on Sunday.
I guess that's the thing. I agree: IF all those guys come back, and IF they're effective, we'll beat Seattle on our field. So IF, 'til then, we can stay within striking distance, we'll win this division and keep our Super Bowl hopes alive. But those are three ginormous IFs.
You worry too much. We went to Seattle, the league's toughest place to go, and lost a game that was much closer than the final score. Against the Packers, we proved that we can beat even GREAT teams under normal conditions. So we'll continue to win, and by the time the Seahawks come to town, we'll be ready. Trust me.
Okay, well, if you say so.
Still...wanna bet an eyebrow?
