Montana was a lot smaller than Kaepernick, (well, he was 6’1″, 200 lbs; Kaepernick’s 6’4″, 230 lbs.) so the similarities may be more attitudinal than physical.  Quarterbacks have grown a fair amount over the years, and you could pass right by Bart Starr, Joe Namath, John Unitas, Fran Tarkenton and most of their contemporaries gathered around the cheese dip in a crowded room, and be completely unaware of them.  You’d think you were in a meeting of accountants.  They weren’t big, they weren’t imposing, they weren’t much of anything physically.  They looked like guys, nothing out of the ordinary.  More like high school teachers than athletes.  (Namath was one of the bigger ones in his day: standing beside him I was bigger.)  The Seahawk’s kid, Russell Wilson, is something of a throwback to that: he’s 5’10” and pretty slight by contemporary standards.  Kaepernick’s a horse and, to judge by the tattoos, apparently thinks in another life he was a Maori warrior or something.  Maybe he was.
 
I didn’t find the refs overbearing, and I don’t think anything turned on them this week, either game.  The big bad call that benefited the Seahawks was promptly squandered by them when they fumbled on the next play, and the 49ers ended up with the ball in a better position than they’d have had it had the refs gotten the call right and awarded them the ball on the previous play.  Not much to complain about there: they blew the call, sure; but the end result was improved field position for San Fran.  No harm, no foul.
 
I actually thought the refs would be far more intrusive, given that the NFL was embarrassed and pissed off about last week’s street-fight between San Fran and Carolina.  That game barely resembled football.  The refs lost control of it instantly – and that bugs a somewhat beleaguered NFL.  I thought we’d have them throwing flags on every play this week, but we didn’t seem to.  (The NFL is actually not very smart: they are hugely reactive; not the least bit active.  You can watch a week or two, and from that accurately deduce exactly where they’ll go and precisely what changes they’ll implement in coming weeks.  Their thinking processes are not obscure.)
 
Maybe it’ll be an enjoyable championship game.  (‘Super Bowl,’ forsooth!  From whence did that idiot locution spring?)  For once we might actually have the two best teams in the damn thing: the two #1 seeds, and the actual best offense up against the best defense.  Holy Cow – that never happens!  The two #1 seeds have managed to both be there only twice in the last 20 years.  (The NFL’s ultimate goal: parity.  “On any given day…”  blah-blah-blah.  Yeah.  It’s great when the #6 seed plays the #4 seed in the championship game, isn’t it?  Wow!)
 
I think it has a chance to be a good game, and I think Seattle probably has a slight edge.  Peyton Manning does not do well in big games.  By this stage in his career, to judge by the way he’s covered, you’d think he’d have won half a dozen ‘Super Bowls.’  (I say “to judge by the way he’s covered” quite deliberately.  In the eyes of the popular press the team around him is apparently irrelevant: it’s all about him and he wins what he wins single-handed.  That is of course not the case, as his vaguely dissatisfying and perhaps even ultimately disappointing career proves.)  He is not good enough to win all by himself, despite what the press tells you, and despite the way they feature him.  (If he were, he would’ve.  He likes to win.)  One lone ‘Super Bowl” after all these years, well: his unsung little brother’s doing better than he is.  And Brady makes him look like an also-ran.  I think that up against the Seattle outfield he’ll have an interesting – and not very rewarding –  time.  Kaepernick, faced with nowhere to throw the ball, was capable of taking off and himself running to useful purpose.  Manning isn’t.  He may be eating those balls and rushing those throws into the arms of Sherman and his crew.
 
I predict Manning gets sacked a lot, throws two to three interceptions, and loses 27-17.