A Season of Rallies Started With Fumble

Stalag 49, as the San Francisco 49ers’ training facility is affectionately known, was sealed off from Los Angeles reporters this week, ostensibly because of all the “secret stuff” Coach George Seifert has added to the playbook for Monday night.

To the Rams, this should be construed as positive news. The last time the 49ers put in a new play against the Rams, it cost San Francisco the game.

They call it the Tom Rathman fumble.

To this day, the 49ers insist Rathman was the right man for the job late in the afternoon of Oct. 1 at Candlestick Park. San Francisco had the football, a 12-10 lead and first down on the Ram 20 with three minutes left in the fourth quarter.

The assignment: Three careful plunges through the middle of the line and a chip-shot field goal to wrap it up.

The assignee: In the 49er huddle, no one had to ask. This was a Tom Rathman moment. The fourth-year fullback from Nebraska hadn’t fumbled a thing--football, car keys or punch line--since the fall of ’87. His were the surest hands in the house, the safest bets in the San Francisco offense.

Even Joe Montana bobbles a center snap now and then.

So Rathman gets the call, and the ball, and what does he do?

He leaves a deposit on the 19-yard line and Ram linebacker Kevin Greene collects.

Two minutes and 57 seconds later, Mike Lansford kicks a 26-yard field goal and the Rams have a 13-12 victory.

Two months later, the ramifications are still being felt much to the delight of the Rams and ABC-TV.

If Rathman holds onto the ball, the 49ers are 12-1 instead of 11-2 and the Rams are 8-5 instead of 9-4.

If Rathman holds onto the ball, the 49ers are already NFC West champions and the Rams are left to fight for wild-card scraps.

If Rathman holds onto the ball, America is tuning into “Major Dad” on Monday night.

“And if ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we’d have Christmas all year long,” Rathman says, husking a little more corn.

Rathman doesn’t need to be reminded of his error or any of its consequences. When you’ve fumbled twice in your professional career, you tend to remember the circumstances.

“It was a cutback play,” Rathman says. “What I do is take the ball, cut back and try to read the defense. I try to get through any hole I can find.

“I was kind of off-balance, leaning forward. I thought I had the ball tucked away, but somebody poked a hand in there and knocked it out.”

And before most of the players on the field could believe their eyes--the ball was loose on the ground for a couple of frozen seconds--Greene finally acted first and pounced on the ball.

The scoreboard clock read 2:59. Jim Everett, no threat yet to Montana’s mastery of the two-minute drill, took over at the 19 and drove the Rams into victory range. With two seconds remaining, Lansford delivered.

For the Rams, a precedent had been set. Everett would follow with four more drives of similar stature, leading his team to last-minute scores against Buffalo, Minnesota, New Orleans and Dallas.

If not for defensive collapses against the Bills and Vikings, Everett would stand 4-0 in such rescue missions. As it is, Everett salvaged two of those games, enough to give the Rams a jolt of moxie as they head into Round II with the 49ers.

But the first San Francisco game was the ice-breaker and, for that, the Rams, in large part, can thank Rathman. The ice man cometh.

“I put a lot of the blame for that loss on myself,” Rathman said. “And I should have. I take a lot of pride on getting the ball and not fumbling in that situation. Those are my situations.”

Monday represents an opportunity for redemption, but Rathman contends he isn’t interested.

“I’m not really concerned about the fumble,” he said. “If I fumbled all the time, then I’d be thinking about it. But when I’ve been put in that type of situation the past few years, I’ve been pretty dependable . . .

“This game is for a lot of the marbles--the division championship and the home-field advantage (in the playoffs). So I can’t worry about what happened last game. Those things happen. All I can do is watch films and try to see how I could have made a difference.”

The sad twist for Rathman is that his gravest mistake as a 49er has come during his finest season as a 49er. After 13 games, Rathman leads all NFL running backs with 66 receptions, a statistic that indicates restored faith in his sure-handedness. With 267 rushing yards and 548 receiving yards, Rathman already has set a personal best in single-season total offense.

Yet, until San Francisco clinches the division title, Rathman will be remembered for the turnover that turned the Rams around.

Ninety-six basic . That was the play Montana called on Oct. 1, the play that sent Rathman between right guard and right tackle and into the hands of the Ram defense.

It still exists in the 49er playbook. But as Rathman will tell you, it isn’t always all that basic.