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Parker Hurley Nails the 49ers’ Fatal Flaw: “Stars are superstars, depth is a disaster”

Sports Illustrated’s sharp-tongued 49ers writer Parker Hurley just dropped a line that cuts deeper than any blitz: “Stars are superstars, depth is a disaster.” It’s not a jab for clicks; it’s the brutal truth about the 2025 San Francisco 49ers. At 9-4 and leading the NFC West, they still look like a Super Bowl contender on paper. Lose one star, though, and the whole machine wobbles like a mansion built on sand.

This season alone, the 49ers have sent more than 20 players to injured reserve, the highest total in the NFL. Nick Bosa might be done for the year, Javon Hargrave, Talanoa Hufanga, and Dre Greenlaw have all gone down in flames. A defense that once terrified opponents has slipped to eighth. Offensively, Brandon Aiyuk still isn’t 100% after last year’s ACL tear, and even Christian McCaffrey has missed time. Every key absence forces third- and fourth-stringers into action, and the results have been straight-up embarrassing.

Look no further than left guard, the glaring hole everyone saw coming before Week 1. Aaron Banks walked in free agency after the team lowballed him. They never bothered to replace him with a legitimate starter. Primary backup Ben Bartch got hurt. Plan B (seventh-round rookie Connor Colby) and Plan C (practice-squad call-up Nick Zakelj) both flopped hard. Now they’re rolling with Plan D, Spencer Burford. Result? Brock Purdy gets pressured nonstop from the left, CMC has no holes, and an offense that started top-5 has fallen to average.

The root cause is GM John Lynch’s all-in-on-stars philosophy: pay whatever it takes for Bosa, Trent Williams, Deebo Samuel, George Kittle, and pray the rest holds. When the stars are healthy, it’s beautiful football. When they’re not, the roster is fragile as fine china. Hurley calls it “poor planning,” not bad luck, and he’s right.

The remaining schedule is a gauntlet: Buffalo in freezing weather, Miami, Detroit, the Rams, all playoff-caliber teams. Keep losing bodies at this rate and the 49ers could slide from the No. 1 seed to wild-card round or even miss the dance entirely. Hurley’s cold verdict: unless a miracle keeps every star upright in January, “stars are superstars, depth is a disaster” will haunt Santa Clara for yet another year, and probably a lot longer.

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RESPECT: Brock Purdy Silences Levi’s Stadium With a Quiet Gesture Before the New Year’s Game
Just moments before the New Year’s game at Levi’s Stadium officially began, Brock Purdy brought the entire stadium to a hush — not with a perfectly placed throw or a highlight play. On his wristband, there was a small white flower. No slogan. No announcement. Just a silent message, dedicated to a hero who had long been part of the Bay Area community — a man forever left behind in 2025. The gesture was directed toward a San Francisco firefighter who passed away while on duty on the final night of the year. He suffered a severe medical emergency while responding to an urgent call, received immediate lifesaving care from his fellow firefighters, and was rushed to the hospital, but did not survive. He died while still honoring his oath to protect the community. For San Francisco, this was not only a loss to the fire service, but a quiet sacrifice that allowed the city to step into 2026 safely. In a league where power and ego often overshadow everything else, Purdy’s silence spoke louder than any statement. The white flower — a symbol of memory, compassion, and respect — appeared under the lights of primetime football carrying meaning far beyond playbooks or the scoreboard. A member of the 49ers organization shared, “Sometimes, respect doesn’t need to be loud. It just needs to be shown.” For Purdy, it was never a performance. As the leader of the offense and one of the faces of the franchise, he understands that the field also represents values greater than football. Speaking quietly to those around him, Purdy said: “He wasn’t just protecting the community — he was part of that community. I can’t bring him back, but I want his family to know that 49ers fans are standing with them. There are moments when you have to stop and remember that people matter more than football.” When the ball was kicked off, the wristband was still there — quiet amid violent collisions and relentless pace. Scores can change. Results can be debated. But that image will remain. On a night filled with noise and spectacle, Brock Purdy reminded the entire NFL that compassion and remembrance still deserve a place on the biggest stage. And in San Francisco, that night, humanity was remembered.