And so the San Francisco 49er dynasty ends, not with a bang or a whimper but simply with those subtle, agonizing failures which taken together are indisputable confirmation there was no time like the past.
What happened Sunday becomes a defining statement for a football team that used to be the best and now is, well, if nothing else, certainly not as good as the Dallas Cowboys.And that is plenty. For both the Cowboys and 49ers.
The Cowboys, 26-17, winners in this weekend's game of the century, hardly dominated San Francisco, and so the 49ers, in a locker room of disillusionment, couldn't bring themselves to acknowledge their decline and fall.
"We weren't overmatched," insisted San Francisco guard Guy McIntyre. "We just made mistakes."
You don't have to be overmatched. You just have to score fewer points, which San Francisco has done its last two times against the Cowboys.
Dallas played well enough often enough, while the 49ers, in a game that certified the tiny but indelible distinctions between success and deficiency, made mistakes instead of making touchdowns.
The Cowboys didn't kick butt, which left 49ers not only with their derrieres still unkicked but with the misconception they should have won and could have won.
The 49ers didn't win. Whether it was because of a fumble or penalty or the great afternoon of Cowboy receiver Michael Irvin doesn't truly matter. The 49ers didn't win. That does truly matter.
Two critical games now, the NFC championship last January at Candlestick Park, the meeting Sunday in the hysteria at Texas Stadium, and the Cowboys have won them both, in almost the same manner. The 49ers have chances. The Cowboys have success.
Field-goal attempts slip through hands, defenders are called for roughing the kicker, fumbles take place. And the 49ers, as Steve Young did as he lay on the artificial turf in the dying seconds, slam down the ball in disappointment and try to persuade themselves what happened was an aberration.
On the contrary. It was an indication.
Good teams find a way to win. These days the 49ers are finding a way to lose.
"Turnovers, particularly that second fumble, were pivotal," said 49er coach George Seifert. "And then the next time not being able to respond with a field goal. We're ahead, we're playing well, we think we have control of the game . . . "
All the errors piled one on top of the other grew to a mountain too high to climb, too wide to go around.
"We're definitely the best team," Logan said, repeating a 49er litany of the last decade.
Then he added something that 49er fans hadn't been hearing but may be hearing a great deal: "But they won the ball game."
Guy McIntyre said he would take the blame for Logan's fumble. For what that's worth. When you're 3-3, as are the 49ers, it's not worth a great deal.
San Francisco, playing defense about as well as could be hoped, had stopped the Cowboys on their own 26, and Dallas punted. And now it was first and 10 for the 49ers practically at midfield.
"We were in position to take control," sighed McIntyre. "But I took a bad step on the count, Russell Maryland got through, hit the guy (Logan) on the exchange and there was a fumble."
"We were loose," said Cowboy safety Bill Bates. "Maybe they were tight. Not once during the week did the word ever come up that if we lost we would be 3-3. The 49ers knew their backs were against the wall. Maybe it affected them."
Maybe what affected them is that age and change have taken a toll. Since that memorable fumble in the 1990 NFC title game against the Giants, the 49ers have offered explanations, not championships.
The torch hasn't been passed. The 49ers just dropped it somewhere along the way.