PHOTO: MARK J. REBILAS
It’s been awhile, but the 49ers have been here before in their franchise history: Up against a gosh darn, old-fashioned, grit-your-teeth, boy-do-I-dislike-this-team NEMESIS.
I do believe the plural of nemesis is nemeses, which is a fun word to type. And the Kansas City Chiefs join a long list of nemeses through the years.
So let’s all dislike them together. It’s the fun part of being a sports fan.
The Chiefs occupy a special place, having beaten the 49ers twice in the Super Bowl in a five-year span. But you already knew that.
None of the other nemeses quite damaged the 49ers like that. I mean, losing the Super Bowl twice to the same helmet, quarterback, head coach and tight end is pretty frustrating, as I was just saying to my good pal Cris Collinsworth.
The Warriors never lost two NBA Finals in a five-year span to the same team. The Giants never lost two World Series in a five-year span to the same team.
Niners-Chiefs, then, is special. In a sort of make-you-vomit kind of way.
Which would make an October Week 7 win Sunday in Santa Clara, you know, sorta satisfying.
It wouldn’t give back any Lombardi Trophies. But it would feel good, and what’s sports without feeling good?
For us old heads, this is a familiar feeling. If you want to go way back and talk to your grandparents, they can tell you about the Dick Nolan-John Brodie-Jimmy Johnson-Gene Washington-Dave Wilcox 49ers losing not once, not twice, but *three* consecutive playoff games against the Dallas Cowboys in the 1970, 1971 and 1972 seasons. Those 49ers never solved the Cowboys, who somewhere along the way co-opted the nickname ‘America’s Team’, and that just pretty much sucks.
It wasn’t quite as painful as three in a row, and I hate to even admit this, but the 1985, 1986 and 1990 49ers lost three times to the dastardly New York Giants featuring Lawrence Taylor and Bill Parcells and young defensive coordinator Bill Belichick. And if you don’t think I didn’t feel stabbing pains just typing that, you have another thing coming. What made that better, however, was that those Joe Montana-Ronnie Lott 49ers won *four* Super Bowls and those stupid NY Giants only won two, so nyah nyah and yes I am sticking my tongue out.
In the 1990s, the 49ers grappled with two nemeses.
First up were those awful Cowboys again. Troy Aikman and Emmitt Smith and Michael Irvin injured the 49ers, deeply, in NFC Championships in 1992 and 1993. Worse, we even had to put up with Hairspray Jimmy Johnson (the wrong Jimmy Johnson for those of who revered the 49ers #37!) shouting ‘HOW BOUT THEM COWBOYS!’ right there in the Candlestick Park locker room. How dare he do that to the memory of Willie McCovey. But that one has a happy ending — the 1994 NFC Championship won by Steve Young and Deion Sanders and Jerry Rice, in the second-greatest game in Candlestick history. If you have to ask the first, you probably haven’t read this far because you don’t bleed 49er.
And then came the Brett Favre Green Bay Packers, gunslinging their way past the 49ers in the 1995, 1996 and 1997 playoffs. That was tough. Favre was unstoppable. It was three consecutive years of death at the hands of a swashbuckler. You think Pat Mahomes is a problem? You never saw the Madcap Mississippi Mauler rip your heart out. Finally, in 1998, Steve Young threw what the late, great Bobb McKittrick called “the best pass of his career” to Terrell Owens for “The Catch 2” and Favre actually felt the sting of defeat at the hands of the 49ers. For once! Sheesh.
Now it’s Andy Reid and his play calls with corn dogs and Tom and Jerry and whatever the heck he’s talking about as Mahomes and his little Dad belly drift about the pocket, looking to always, always find that open seam when you least need it.
This rivalry feels different, for reasons both palatable and unpalatable.
On the palatable side, the Chiefs are an AFC West team, and just don’t exist in our everyday orbit. Once Sunday’s final gun sounds, we won’t really see or hear from them again — until . . . . maybe February?
On the unpalatable side, it’s the Super Bowl. Twice. Fourth-quarter leads. Heck, overtime leads. Sigh.
So this is a somewhat familiar feeling, given the large scope of 49ers history. As previous generations can tell you, nausea is part of the deal.
The best antacid is to beat ‘em, as soon as Sunday.
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