Forty-nine to three. Our Giants.

Forty-nine to three. Sometimes the score is a perfectly good place to start.

The Giants took San Francisco apart. This was the team I had watched growing into itself through my high-school years, and now it was doing that in a playoff game.

I know the early play people bring up. Jerry Rice had open field in front of him. What if he gets to the end zone? What if the game begins differently?

First, get the Rice play right.

I remembered a dropped touchdown. Rice actually caught the pass, got clear, and then lost the ball untouched. Kenny Hill recovered the ball in the end zone for a touchback. The score was still 0–0.

That is an enormous missed opportunity. Jerry Rice, of all people, with that chance in front of him.

What followed is the part I keep coming back to: the best team in football taking control.

That is my fan’s argument. Change the opening and the rest becomes a what-if. I would still put my money on those Giants at the Meadowlands.

The defense took over the picture.

Jim Burt hit Joe Montana as he threw. Lawrence Taylor intercepted the pass and brought it back for a touchdown. Montana’s injury ended his afternoon.

The injury was serious. The football point is what that defense was doing to a great offense: getting to the quarterback, taking the ball, putting points on the board.

The Giants kept going. Forty-nine points against a team that had so often been the standard we were chasing.

The next week, Washington got shut out 17–0. Then came Denver and the Super Bowl. I remember the joy of seeing this team leave so little room for doubt.

They were our Giants. They were that good.