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Paul Zimmerman
January 15, 1990
Joe Montana pitched an almost perfect game as the San Francisco 49ers overwhelmed the Minnesota Vikings 41-13 and sent a shudder through the rest of the NFL playoff field
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January 15, 1990

Looking Super

Joe Montana pitched an almost perfect game as the San Francisco 49ers overwhelmed the Minnesota Vikings 41-13 and sent a shudder through the rest of the NFL playoff field

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The Niners used everybody in that first half, from tight end Jamie Williams, a little-used Plan B free agent picked up from the Houston Oilers, to wide receiver Mike Sherrard, the former Dallas wideout who was activated just last week after having missed all of the 1987, '88 and '89 seasons recovering from a broken leg. "They're running so many people in and out," Giants director of pro personnel Tim Rooney said at halftime, "that Peters can't run his defense. They're so concerned about people they've never seen."

It was utter annihilation. The final stats made the game look close—403 yards for San Francisco, 385 for Minnesota—because the 49ers diddled around in the second half and because the Vikes piled up a lot of gimme yards. But here are the most revealing stats: Minnesota, which finished the regular season one sack short of the NFL record of 72, got no sacks; end Chris Doleman, tackle Keith Millard, tackle Henry Thomas and end Al Noga—the finest front four in the business—had a cumulative six tackles and three assists.

San Francisco's offensive line was the platform from which Montana launched " all those pretty, well-timed passes. It was magnificent. "We blocked them the way a field goal team would block," said " center Jesse Sapolu. "We blocked gaps instead of individual men. Each man was responsible for a gap, and we had to read the scheme together. We all had to be on the same page. If one guy broke down, the scheme wouldn't work.

"They're always stunting and looping. They stunt themselves into big plays. They're so quick, they get into those gaps and get their sacks and big losses on running plays. So we had to beat them to the gap."

Millard, Minnesota's quickest inside rusher, got most of the double-team treatment, though not all of it. Sapolu was responsible for making the line calls, such as which way the double-teams would shift—the first man fills the gap, the second zeros in on the defender. On pass plays, a call of " Minnesota" meant the line double-teamed left; "Viking" meant it double-teamed right. Then there were the run calls, and dummy calls to keep the Viking defenders guessing. Everything worked. The offensive line performed like a precision drill team.

The Niners got terrific performances from their tackles—Harris Barton, who handled Noga much of the day, and Bubba Paris, who, with relief help from Steve Wallace, contained Doleman, the league's sack leader. Going into the game, the Paris-Doleman matchup looked scary for San Francisco. Doleman is a speed rusher. Paris, shorn of the weight restriction former coach Bill Walsh had imposed on him, is high in the kilos department. One Niner who eavesdropped on a weigh-in swears that the needle stopped at 348 when Paris stepped on the scale early in the week.

"It's a personal challenge," said Paris last Thursday. "My job is to go out there and beat [Doleman] up, put a lot of weight on him, tire him out. Then Steve gets him and finishes him off."

When the Viking pass rushers crowded in with the Chicago Bears' old 46 alignment, Barton and Paris were supposed to collapse Doleman and Noga inside, to get them knocking into their teammates. And that's what happened. "One time Noga and Millard bumped into each other and bounced off," said Niner right guard Bruce Collie. "Harris and I were laughing in the huddle. He said, 'Look, it's Ping-Pong ball.' "

San Francisco added new wrinkles to its running game as well. For instance, Sapolu, a former guard and one of the team's fastest linemen, pulled to lead the sweeps. That was a switch. The 49ers had the right side of their line, Barton and Collie, pull left in front of a back on the old Washington Redskins counter-gap, a play the Niners hadn't shown much. Then, in the second quarter, they pulled left, but fullback Tom Rathman ran the other way, behind Craig. They picked up 10 yards. "A key-breaker," said Barton. "We hadn't shown that."

Offensive line coach Bobb McKittrick, who designed most of these schemes, rubbed his eyes in disbelief as he watched the carnage. "I mean, you expect some things to work," he said, "but never in my wildest dreams did I expect anything like this. During the week I'd be sitting in the hot tub and I'd be thinking, What if they line up this way, can my guys make an adjustment? And I'd jot something down. Then it would work."

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