49ers Get Blunt Message From Stephen A. Smith
The San Francisco 49ers are coming off a Week 12 win over the Carolina Panthers. However, that victory didn’t pass the eye test for one person, who doesn’t see the Niners being the team to come out of the NFC to represent the conference in the Super Bowl.
49ers quarterback Brock Purdy was at the center of the 20-6 ugly win over the Panthers on November 24. Moreover, with the game being on “Monday Night Football,” it was obviously drawing national NFL media attention.
Despite the win, ESPN’s Stephen A. Smith didn’t hold back on his thoughts regarding whether he sees the Niners being the team that wins the NFC this 2025 NFL season.
“There [are] too many good teams in the NFC that think that this version of the San Francisco 49ers could come out of the NFC,” Smith said on the November 25 edition of “First Take.” “Brock Purdy [has] got seven interceptions and eight touchdowns in his four starts.
“He has not been impressive, all right? So we got to get that. The three interceptions that he threw all for 20 yards or more— a lot of air under the ball, no zip. You don’t see him with a rifle of an arm, so we got to take that into consideration.”
The 49ers Might Be Leaning Too Much on Christian McCaffrey
Moreover, Smith points out that the 49ers’ over-reliance on Christian McCaffrey is a significant issue, considering that if the star running back goes down with an injury, what will that do to the offense?
“There’s but so much reliance that you could put on a Christian McCaffrey and a George Kittle,“ Smith added. “I know how [49ers head coach] Kyle Shanahan can call the game; I know he can coach the game or what have you. They’re a good team, they’re a respectable team, but you’re talking about two cornerstones of their franchise, two elite defensive players that are. They do seem a bit softer; they don’t seem as hardcore as they’ve been in the past defensively.
“Christian McCaffrey can only do so much; that’s an injury waiting to happen the more you put the ball in the sense. We know how electrifying he is when he’s on the field, 142 yards from scrimage last night, just another display of his greatness. But durability is a question mark; the more you have to depend on him, the more trouble that you’re in.”
49ers QB Brock Purdy Faces Criticism
Smith isn’t the only person criticizing the 49ers for their performance against the Panthers. FOX Sports’ Colin Cowherd didn’t hold back, saying he doesn’t believe Purdy can guide the team to a championship.
“Brock Purdy’s last 20 starts: 30 touchdowns, 19 interceptions, passer rating that’s equal to Tua,“ Cowherd said in a video published on November 25. “And what did I always call Brock Purdy? A right-handed Tua. A little mobility, not a big arm, [and] a little injury prone. Tua, don’t trust them in cold weather. Brock Purdy [has] had ball security issues in wet weather. It’s the same guy. It really is.
“I think Tua throws a more accurate ball consistently. I think Purdy’s a little bit better athlete and a much more aggressive thrower of the football. But in the last move off people because you’re paying Purdy and other people now, Brock Purdy is a mid-90 passer rating guy with injuries. That’s what he is. Don’t shoot the messenger. That’s what he is right now.”
“HE’S JUST A RACING FOOTBALL PLAYER.” That was the liпe Sυппy Hostiп let slip live oп The View, as the table was chυckliпg aboυt Josh Alleп makiпg a rare U.S. talk-show appearaпce after years of tυrпiпg dowп daytime TV…
A Seven-Word Sentence From Josh Allen Stuns The View and Reshapes a Conversation About Athletes, Image, and Grief
On a weekday morning episode of The View, where conversation typically moves quickly between politics, entertainment, and cultural wit, the atmosphere shifted in ways few daytime viewers have ever witnessed. What began as light commentary about NFL quarterback
The exchange began with a remark from co-host Sunny Hostin
“He’s just a football player,” Hostin said, smiling as the audience chuckled.
Moments later she elaborated, joking that athletes are “just people in helmets running in circles trying to catch things.” The panel joined: Joy Behar nodded, Whoopi Goldberg smirked, applause flickered, and the topic appeared ready to move on.
But Allen did not.
Instead, the Buffalo Bills star slowly removed the thin black bracelet on his wrist, placed it gently on the table, and met Hostin’s eyes with a level gaze. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady — measured enough that no one in the studio missed a syllable.
“I held your dying friend’s hand too.”
The room fell still. Not a laugh. Not a breath.
For nearly 11 seconds, a lifetime on live television, cameras held their focus as Hostin froze, her expression tightening under a weight the panel — and now millions of viewers — instantly recognized. Months earlier, Hostin had spoken publicly about a close friend who battled a rare illness, one Allen had quietly funded research for. Few knew he had visited the patient privately, remaining at the hospital through the final nights.
He never discussed it publicly. Until that morning.
Goldberg lifted a hand to her mouth, Behar looked down, and the audience — usually restless and vocal — did not move. It was not a confrontation; it was grief resurfacing, humility meeting presumption, a reminder that public figures contain histories unseen by camera lenses or highlight reels.
Within 48 hours, the clip had amassed more than 600 million views, circulating across platforms not as a moment of humiliation but as a reckoning — a reminder of how easily public perception flattens complex people into caricature.
Sports headlines tend to speak of Allen in measurable terms: yardage, accuracy, postseason survival. But the quiet weight of seven words reshaped the nation’s conversation. Viewers were left confronting an uncomfortable truth: the man often reduced to
No panelist attempted to restart the segment. No one debated. Allen did not elaborate or demand acknowledgment. He simply lifted his bracelet — a small black loop of cord — slid it back over his hand, and thanked the hosts for their time.
Not victory. Not triumph.
Just closure.
In the days since, millions continue revisiting the moment not as a viral conflict, but as a rare instance where a public figure refused to let identity be written by headlines, jokes, or assumptions. The conversation surrounding Allen now extends well beyond football — toward empathy, legacy, and the unspoken lives famous people lead when no one is watching.
For many who witnessed it, one truth remained:
No one will call Josh Allen just anything again.
