Get Nasty: 49er Defense Must Live Up to Talented Blueprint

A shell of my former selfCorrespondent IMay 28, 2009

ST. LOUIS, MO - DECEMBER 21: Patrick Willis #52 of the San Francisco 49ers celebrates a victory against the St. Louis Rams at the Edward Jones Dome on December 21, 2008 in St. Louis, Missouri.  The 49ers beat the Rams 17-16.  (Photo by Dilip Vishwanat/Getty Images)

A blueprint.

The definition encrypted says, a design plan or figurative something that acts as a plan, model or template.

Sure, the San Francisco 49ers have it, or pieces and portions of what they envision to be a legitimate blueprint for a crew that has been all but ghostly over recent memory. Really though, who can remember a 49er defense that was worth remembering?

Gary Plummer is the best I can come up with and no offense to Gary, but when you visualize a memorable defense, the side of the football that is supposed to induce the explosion of colostomy bags to offenses, one would expect to recollect a standout—a terror.

Yeah, Mike Singletary is manning the ship. He was one so terrifying that he was deemed the "heart and soul" of one of the unnerving slew of players in the history of the National Football League. It may be cliched and boring to regurgitate the typical motivational speeches and all that encompasses a feel-good movie starring Matthew McConaughey, but if those who have followed the NFL over the years, with true success comes something dire to the system.

A nickname.

There be no necessary need to be a repeat of "Sweetness", "Primetime" or "Broadway Joe", but to make your own mark—that's what is an absolute.

With the numero uno "Monster of Midway" at the helm of the 49er franchise, this 49er team has one thing it hasn't in the past: potential. Yeah, yeah, we get it, the franchise has been in disarray since Eddie left. We get it, we really do.

But that's then, this is now.

And in the now, there is Patrick Willis. There is Manny Lawson. There is Parys Haralson.

Safety Dashon Goldson has received so many rave reviews he could've bounced Slumdog Millionaire from any Oscar nomination.

There's Greg Munasky. A 3-4 enthusiast that brings the heat better than Al Pacino, Robert DeNiro and Val Kilmer combined. And that's exactly what this team is supposed to be about.

Jab, jab, jab, hook, uppercut. Knockout.

This 49er defense has the potential to be downright nasty. Players mirror images of your Singletary's, Ray Lewis', and so on and so forth. They even have a cowboy for a defensive end, who mirrors as a backfield menace and golf course owner.

It's about personality and these guys—who many don't really read into or realize—have a lot of it.

Nevermind the fact that these 49ers are playing in a relatively weak division, which features a slew of run-and-gun teams that tend to mirror the AFL and CFL in terms of offensive production. This defense will be looked to keep Kurt Warner reminiscing about his grocery store days and Marc Bulger and Matt Hasselbeck wishing they were on the sidelines holding a play chart and headset. 

That's what Singletary realized and envisioned when he took the reigns on October 20, 2008.

If anything, if there be a mushy mess of a quarterback situation, an oft-injured Pro Bowl running back or a confused, yet talented tight end, the Niners are to fight to the last whistle blows.

A case could be made: a major blow to the defense with the loss of cornerback Walt Harris. But, in football, you adapt. So did the 49ers. They signed veteran defensive back Dre Bly to be opposite of Nate Clements come August, with youngster Tarell Brown making strides.

What you end up seeing in the movies or what you see when you see a team holding up the Lombardi Trophy is disparity—disparity among a polarized group of men, who became the ultimate blueprint.

And why not start off with the defense, after all, defense wins championships, supposedly.