Stumbled across two bad ideas while walking through the Powell cable car area.

First up, no. Just no.

Yes, Jeff was good. He is good. It is hard to watch him now making the same sort of gutty on-the-run improvisational plays in a green jersey for Philly.

As we recall, T.O. did make a huge difference on the field when he was a Niner. He was good. He was a rising star.

Then he soured, and became a relentless douche. Began believing his own wacky logic. He believed that regular sorts of contracts and common sense and rules disn't apply to him. Now that he's a Dallas Cowboy, it makes him all the more reprehensible. Enjoy the rest of the playoffs from home, jerk.

And J.J. Stokes. Oh, J.J. -- your level of bust-ed-ness is one of the few things that make the current hapless RT Kwame Harris look like a good draft day decision. In the textbook under "squandered potential," there is a photo of Stokes sporting #83 for the 49ers.

Dear sweet baby Jesus, how many times were we galvanized into shouting towards the television screen because of the lackadasical #83?

"Fight for the ball! Fight for the ball!" would be a common refrain. Timid fool, you weren't worth trading up the draft ladder for.

(Of course, an added irony is that Stokes obtained a Super Bowl ring for riding the bench for the 2003 New England Patriots. Expletive.)

"Big Three," hmm? Naw. More like a Scrappy One. And a coupla negatives.

And the other bad idea:

The Raider Nation doesn't need any little flask.

At this lowest-of-low points, y' might as well drink straight from the bottle, right?