A Desert Flower Montana Is Not

All day long, I have been trying to picture images as weird as the one of Joe Montana playing football for the Phoenix Cardinals.

I suppose anything is possible in a world where a million dollars might buy you a night with Demi Moore.

We have already seen night baseball at Wrigley, seen Wayne Gretzky be traded to Los Angeles and seen an entire hockey team named after an Emilio Estevez movie, so what the heck.

But it was still a lot easier picturing the Cardinals themselves moving to Phoenix than it is Joe Montana.

Joe is as much a part of San Francisco as hilly streets, Jerry Rice and Rice-a-Roni. To see him playing football somewhere else, well, all I can do is think up comparisons.

To me, it’s like picturing:

--Jack Nicklaus, in a black-leather jacket on a Harley Davidson.

--Michael Jackson, pumping iron.

--Vin Scully, with a tattoo.

--Princess Diana, cocktail waitress.

--Tuesday Night Football.

--Paul McCartney, bald rapper.

--Clint Eastwood, in argyle socks and Bermuda shorts.

--Mike Wallace, wearing an earring.

--Don King, blond.

--Saddam Hussein, doing nursery rhymes.

--Mary Tyler Moore, playing a serial killer.

--Putting a dome on Fenway.

--Magic Johnson, Minnesota Timberwolf.

--Marla Maples, dating some guy on welfare.

--Andrew Dice Clay, at an equal-rights amendment rally.

--The Rev. Hugh Hefner.

--Oprah, surfing.

--Nolan Ryan, dressed up like Liberace.

--Al Davis, owner of the Denver Broncos.

--Manute Bol, figure skating.

--Bob Knight, coaching Nevada Las Vegas.

--Billie Jean King and Martina Navratilova, synchronized swimming.

--Mickey Mantle, Boston Red Sox.

--Planting AstroTurf at Augusta National.

--Delta Burke, on a bungee.

--Richard Petty, in a triathlon.

--Dick Clark, with a goatee.

--Tipper Gore, go-go dancing.

--Jerry Rice, moving to left tackle.

--Arnold Schwarzenegger, playing Hamlet.

--Lee Iacocca, driving a Honda.

--Sandy Koufax, pitching for Pittsburgh.

--Dolly Parton, at Sinead O’Connor’s hairdresser.

--Candice Bergen and Dan Quayle, matched by a computer-dating service.

--Ted Kennedy, stock car driver.

--Mike Tyson, America’s Cup skipper.

--Roseanne and Tom, in the remake of “Casablanca.”

--Gary Player, wearing pink.

--Barbara Walters, competing on “American Gladiators.”

--Super Bowl Wednesday.

And so on.

I know this shouldn’t be such a big deal. After all, we have seen many odd sights before. We saw Joe Namath play quarterback for the Rams, saw Pete Rose step up to bat for the Expos, saw Gordie Howe skate for Houston and saw Herschel Walker ride a bobsled. The Babe played for Boston and Kareem played for Milwaukee. How quickly we forget.

OK, so we’re flexible.

That doesn’t mean the notion of Joe Montana playing for some football team in Arizona is any less difficult to conceive. What happens when the Cardinals come to Candlestick Park for the first time to play the 49ers? What happens when some angry 49er plants Joe in the turf?

This could be the first time in history a player gets booed for tackling the opponent’s quarterback.

San Francisco without Joe Montana.

What next? Tony Bennett singing, “By the Time I Get to Phoenix?”

It would be a lot smarter of the 49ers if they dump everyone else on the team and keep Joe Montana and Jerry Rice. Those two and any other nine players could still outscore Phoenix.