Quagmire Squagmire, This Game Is Super

SAN FRANCISCO — Robert Redford has not been approached about directing today’s 49er-Cowboy game for CBS, even though a river runs through it.

The blockbuster football game of the ‘90s is about to be played in 100 yards of goo. A heavy rain has turned half of Frisco into Crisco.

It has been raining in California now since, oh, 1992. In the last 48 hours alone, San Franciscans have had both earthquake and flood. All they need now is pestilence.

Ah, San Francisco, the city only a State Farm agent could love.

But say this for San Francisco--it has one hell of a football team. And say this for Dallas--it has one hell of a football team.

(Don’t you wish you had one hell of a football team?)

And today, the twains shall meet.

It’s Super Bowl, Jr.

I can’t wait. I haven’t awaited any Super Bowl half as eagerly as I am awaiting this NFL championship game between the Prospectors and the Cowpokes.

The only glitches?

(I’ll use Roman numerals, to get into the mood.)

I.--If Dwight Clark’s name is mentioned one more time, it will tie him with Madonna for someone’s name being mentioned 1,000 times in a single week. Hard to believe but true.

II.--Now let me see if I’ve got this straight? Joe Montana and Steve Beuerlein are available but not needed? Uh, on behalf of all of Southern California, couldn’t our teams please, please, please borrow whichever quarterback you aren’t using? Come on. Can’t you spare a quarterback for the needy? (Come to think of it, we’d take Frank Reich, too.)

III.--Question: Can’t we just call this the Super Bowl and call off the one in Pasadena? Nothing personal against Buffalo or Miami, but . . . no, wait . . . OK, something personal against Buffalo and Miami. Wouldn’t you rather see Dallas vs. San Francisco, The Sequel, on Super Bowl Sunday? Who do we see about this? Paul Tagliabue? Yo, Tags. It isn’t going to get any better than this.

Here’s the lowdown on today’s game, an attraction that is purely physical:

THE RIVALRY--Speaking for the state of Texas is the distinguished gentleman from Irving, the honorable Emmitt Smith: “I’m sick of the Dwight Clark Catch, of the 49er dynasty and all that stuff.” Way to give a pep talk, Em.

THE FEUD--Charles Haley used to play for San Francisco. Charles Haley now plays for Dallas. Charles seems to dislike certain people who play for San Francisco and people who play for San Francisco seem to be not overly fond of Charles. Tim Harris of the 49ers apparently believes that before Charles left town, he urinated on Tim’s car in the team parking lot. This is generally believed to be not a sign of lasting friendship.

THE FIELD--Mud, crud, quicksand, who cares? “We could just go out there and play on dirt,” San Francisco’s Jerry Rice said. Michael Irvin of Dallas apparently believes that Jerry Rice could even play on water. Irvin actually referred to Rice this week as: “Jesus in cleats.”

THE OFFENSES--Dallas’ Smith (not to be confused with the baseball guy, Dallas Green) led the NFL in rushing. San Francisco quarterback Steve Young (not to be confused with Joe Nevada or Joe Idaho or whatever his name was) led the NFL in passing. Los Angeles, for those of you keeping score at home, led the NFL in nothing.

THE DEFENSES--The Cowboy defense ranked first in the NFL, even without anybody named Too Tall or Jethro. The 49er offense ranked first in the NFL, even without anybody named Joe or Dwight.

THE RECEIVERS--Rice is the very best. You know it, I know it, Dallas knows it. Yet a Mr. Irvin of Irving averaged 3.6 yards more per catch this season than Mr. Rice. So, who knows? Either one of them today could make a capital-C Catch.

THE COACHES--One replaced Landry. One replaced Walsh. Both have won big. So, do you know what the San Francisco Examiner’s top story on Page One of Thursday’s sports section was? Their hair . That’s right. Jimmy Johnson’s hair. George Seifert’s hair. The consensus seemed to be that Seifert’s was a cross between Albert Einstein’s and Professor Irwin Corey’s and that Johnson’s hair could be used by a bodyguard to protect Whitney Houston.

THE TRENCHES--And they really will be trenches--drenched trenches. Personally, I would love to see 335-pound Cowboy tackle Nate Newton out there clomping through the mud with 335-pound 49er tackle Bubba Paris. It won’t be Candlestick Park. It’ll be Jurassic Park.

Today, the earth moves.

It’s Super Bowl, Jr.