Angus
Active Member
- Messages
- 5,097
- Reaction score
- 20
Time for Singletary to step down as "face of the franchise"
Ray Ratto
Friday, August 28, 2009
(08-27) 18:00 PDT -- The 49ers' trip to Dallas on Saturday is important largely to see how much stadium envy Jed York can absorb. The stadium he wants in Santa Clara can fit with only a little inhaling inside the new Dallas Cowboys stadium, and, well, you know how much a young man's head can be turned.
As for the more immediate issue, the football team, well, most of the important revelations are complete. If Nate Davis looks good enough, perhaps the 49ers keep four quarterbacks. Other than that, it's pretty much a matter of keeping players healthy and available when the real season begins.
The longer view, though, is what concerns us here, because the 49ers have not yet made the most important step in their development, and that won't come until well into the season, namely:
Making this no longer Mike Singletary's team.
This is not a call for regime change, but a more elemental development. Namely, replacing Singletary as the first face your brain assembles when you hear the word "49ers." When the coach/general manager/owner is the face of the franchise, the players aren't good enough, and when the players aren't good enough, the Earth's crust is the limit.
Mike Nolan was the face of the franchise once. He was brought in specifically to be the face of the franchise so that John York wouldn't be the face any more. He was given extraordinary powers given his resume at the time so that he could be a more convincing face of the franchise. And he remained the face of the franchise through four profoundly dissatisfying years, to the point where he became the only face. And when that happens, look out below.
Bill Walsh, on the other hand, wasn't the face of the franchise once it started rolling. He was in 1979 and 1980, when the team won eight of 32 games and most of the players weren't capable of that level of face. Come 1981 and running through 1994, though, the job of face became the responsibility of Joe Montana ... or Ronnie Lott ... or Jerry Rice ... or Steve Young ... or Randy Cross ... or, oh, pick your favorite. Walsh had replaced himself, without ever really concerning himself with the matter, by getting better players and letting the winning take care of itself.
Conversely, Al Davis is the face of the Raiders, and he has been for the last six years. When the team was going good, it was Rich Gannon, or Tim Brown, or any of several other players. In the really good old days, it was Ken Stabler, or Willie Brown, or Lester Hayes, or Fred Biletnikoff, because fans thought of the games they were enjoying each week rather than the guy in the white polyester civvies.
With all due respect to Don Nelson, Chris Cohan is the face of the Warriors, and if you can find him beneath his virtual chador, you can ask how much fun that is.
And Billy Beane is the face of the A's, because the A's players are so relentlessly, remorselessly without face. This is good neither for him, as he has become the blame magnet, nor for the team, which is witness-protection quality.
A warning, though. Do not confuse face with power here. Power is the person who makes the decisions. Davis, Cohan and Beane have power. Face is the person you think of when you think of the team. And it's always better for the face to be a player, or players.
The 49ers are not at that stage yet. Singletary is the go-to image because Shaun Hill isn't, and neither is Frank Gore nor Patrick Willis nor Nate Clements. Singletary is the image because he is so easy to caricature, and because he is articulating the message that the players have not yet managed to articulate with their play.
The message so far as been, "We're not good enough," with brief flurries of "But we're getting better," which tells you that there are no players yet ready to become the face of the franchise. At least not in Singletary's mind.
Thus, he has to carry the load - in public, where people can see him and hear him all the time, where his face and voice are the dominant features of the entire franchise. Yes, even more than the noted emissary of evil, Sourdough Sam.
So, while you see Singletary's glower, hyperexpressive stare, and hear his sometimes baffling but always earnest interview sessions in which he believes everything he says while remaining comfortable with the occasional contradiction, you're still seeing him. And frankly, the sooner you stop seeing him in your mind's eye and hearing him in your mind's ear, the better the 49ers will be.
Maybe you can start small. Think of Michael Crabtree. You barely remember what he looks or sounds like, so your imagination can run riot.
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2009/08/28/SPT119EM4S.DTL&type=49ers
Ray Ratto
Friday, August 28, 2009
(08-27) 18:00 PDT -- The 49ers' trip to Dallas on Saturday is important largely to see how much stadium envy Jed York can absorb. The stadium he wants in Santa Clara can fit with only a little inhaling inside the new Dallas Cowboys stadium, and, well, you know how much a young man's head can be turned.
As for the more immediate issue, the football team, well, most of the important revelations are complete. If Nate Davis looks good enough, perhaps the 49ers keep four quarterbacks. Other than that, it's pretty much a matter of keeping players healthy and available when the real season begins.
The longer view, though, is what concerns us here, because the 49ers have not yet made the most important step in their development, and that won't come until well into the season, namely:
Making this no longer Mike Singletary's team.
This is not a call for regime change, but a more elemental development. Namely, replacing Singletary as the first face your brain assembles when you hear the word "49ers." When the coach/general manager/owner is the face of the franchise, the players aren't good enough, and when the players aren't good enough, the Earth's crust is the limit.
Mike Nolan was the face of the franchise once. He was brought in specifically to be the face of the franchise so that John York wouldn't be the face any more. He was given extraordinary powers given his resume at the time so that he could be a more convincing face of the franchise. And he remained the face of the franchise through four profoundly dissatisfying years, to the point where he became the only face. And when that happens, look out below.
Bill Walsh, on the other hand, wasn't the face of the franchise once it started rolling. He was in 1979 and 1980, when the team won eight of 32 games and most of the players weren't capable of that level of face. Come 1981 and running through 1994, though, the job of face became the responsibility of Joe Montana ... or Ronnie Lott ... or Jerry Rice ... or Steve Young ... or Randy Cross ... or, oh, pick your favorite. Walsh had replaced himself, without ever really concerning himself with the matter, by getting better players and letting the winning take care of itself.
Conversely, Al Davis is the face of the Raiders, and he has been for the last six years. When the team was going good, it was Rich Gannon, or Tim Brown, or any of several other players. In the really good old days, it was Ken Stabler, or Willie Brown, or Lester Hayes, or Fred Biletnikoff, because fans thought of the games they were enjoying each week rather than the guy in the white polyester civvies.
With all due respect to Don Nelson, Chris Cohan is the face of the Warriors, and if you can find him beneath his virtual chador, you can ask how much fun that is.
And Billy Beane is the face of the A's, because the A's players are so relentlessly, remorselessly without face. This is good neither for him, as he has become the blame magnet, nor for the team, which is witness-protection quality.
A warning, though. Do not confuse face with power here. Power is the person who makes the decisions. Davis, Cohan and Beane have power. Face is the person you think of when you think of the team. And it's always better for the face to be a player, or players.
The 49ers are not at that stage yet. Singletary is the go-to image because Shaun Hill isn't, and neither is Frank Gore nor Patrick Willis nor Nate Clements. Singletary is the image because he is so easy to caricature, and because he is articulating the message that the players have not yet managed to articulate with their play.
The message so far as been, "We're not good enough," with brief flurries of "But we're getting better," which tells you that there are no players yet ready to become the face of the franchise. At least not in Singletary's mind.
Thus, he has to carry the load - in public, where people can see him and hear him all the time, where his face and voice are the dominant features of the entire franchise. Yes, even more than the noted emissary of evil, Sourdough Sam.
So, while you see Singletary's glower, hyperexpressive stare, and hear his sometimes baffling but always earnest interview sessions in which he believes everything he says while remaining comfortable with the occasional contradiction, you're still seeing him. And frankly, the sooner you stop seeing him in your mind's eye and hearing him in your mind's ear, the better the 49ers will be.
Maybe you can start small. Think of Michael Crabtree. You barely remember what he looks or sounds like, so your imagination can run riot.
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2009/08/28/SPT119EM4S.DTL&type=49ers
How did you get that from that article? Face of Cowboys Franchise is mostly Romo/Ware and Witten. Two of them are All-pro, while 49ers, closest all pro is Patrick Willis. Big difference.
