The Road to 4-12, Week Three

Linebacker Julian Peterson has "guaranteed" a 49er victory over the Cowboys. Surely Mr. Peterson knows that a guarantee without consequences for noncompliance is meaningless. If the 49ers lose, then what? Will he cut me a check? Will he send me a personally embroidered pillow slip with "Sorry" written in a flowery font? In this spirit, Corn Chips & Pie guarantees a 49er loss, and guarantees that the Cowboy time of possession will approach a nice round hour.

Which is too bad, really. Cowboys-Niners has a proud tradition; this year, though, the legacy is tarnished by ineptitude and Bill Parcells' frightening bleach job. Who does he remind me of? A doughy, older McBain, maybe. Or Kent Brockman.

The Catch was nice. But my favorite Cowboy-Niner moment was in January 1995: the NFC championship game. Jimmy Johnson's Starlite Express had trounced the Niners in the same game each of the previous two years. I somehow managed to get tickets (still the only NFL game I've ever attended). After the Niners had wrapped up the glorious victory, my friend Dug and I, giddy on the volatile mixture of marijuana and Piccolo Pete's roast beef sandwiches, climbed onto the field. While Steve Young did victory laps around the perimeter of the field, screaming about monkeys clawing out his eyes or something, Dug and I played catch with a Nerf ball at midfield. At some point, cornerback Eric Davis wandered by, and I patted him on the shoulder pad, slurring something like "Good job, ace." Eric Davis is extremely short. He was only up to my waist. Odd.

Late update: "Broadway Corn Chips" makes good on the guarantee. Ugly, ugly, ugly.