49ers Clubhouse - Joe Montana

His name was Joe Cool, the quarterback who could overcome any deficit, any pressure, any injury, the quarterback that never quit.
Once, Joe Montana led his team to victory after trailing by 28 points at halftime.
More than once, Montana led his team to victory after trailing by 14 points in the 4th quarter.
Thirty-one times, Montana led his team to victory after trailing in the 4th quarter, and more than tree fourth of those trademark comebacks took place on the road, heroics in front of hostile crowds.
Four times in four appearences in the brightest spot-light, Montana led his team to victory in the Super Bowl.
Once, Montana ruptured a spinal disk so severly he needed two hours of back surgery to salvage his career. Eight weeks later, he returned to the starting lineup and led his team to victory.
He was, above all else, a winner. He won more than seventy per cent of the game he started during an illustrious 16 years career in the NFL, a career that started inauspiciously: 81 players were picked ahaed of him in the 1979 draft.
But if the tangible eveidence of Joe Montana's greatness is overwhelming, the intangibles are even more impressive: the way he transmitted his calm and his concentration to his teammates, the way he inspired them to their finest performances, the way he shrugged off repeated poundings and high praises with equal grace.
In the 1980s, the San Francisco 49ers of Bill Walsh, Joe Montana and Ronnie Lott dominated the professional football. The 49ers played in 4 Super Bowl and won all four. If Walsh was the genius of the 49ers, and Lott the fury, Montana was, in every sense, the field general, leading and inspiring, thinking and executing, modest and magnificent. Joe Montana was a natural leader, he commanded a tremendous amount of respect from the other players. They could look at him and say this was a different kind of player, that was playing at a different level.
He never gave off the impression his life was on the line, and everybody seemed to think differently. His body was out of touch with the game, too skinny and angular to be on the same field with all that muscle and speed. But once he got back there, everything seemed to operate on his terms, at his predetermined speed. He would wait until the proper moment, when the play had reached the peak of its potential efficiency, and then he would throw the ball where it was meant to be thrown. So easy in theory. So damned hard in practice.
It would be unfair, and inaccurate, to say that Joe Montana was not affected by pressure. He was, he played better.