I was wrong about the Niners’ game. I said the Niners would score 19 and they did. It’s just that I said the Seahawks would score 23 and they scored 17. So how do I feel about being wrong, as many of you told me I was and am?

Well, it doesn’t feel good to be wrong. But I took my best shot, believed what I wrote and, in the real world, I didn’t hurt anyone, didn’t start a war or rob a bank. One thing I like about my job, there’s very little hurting.

So, as athletes say, I take full responsibility, and then I wipe my hand across my mouth and move on. Now for a story.

After the game, we all went to the Niners locker room. Everyone wanted to talk to Donte Whitner who’s the best. As I maneuvered into position around writers and cameramen, I tripped over an athletic bag I didn’t see. I started to fall. I said to myself, “I’m falling, but I’m in control of this. I won’t fall down.”

I kept falling.

Slowly.

My son Grant tried to grab me and missed.

Tim Kawakami tried to grab me and missed.

I kept falling, the slowest fall in history.

I kept telling myself “I won’t fall.”

I hit the floor.

C.J. Spillman yelled, “Down goes Frazier.”

Niners head of PR Bob Lange said, “You OK, Lowell?”

I couldn’t see Lange’s face. I did see his shoes right next to my eyes. I said to myself, “Bob has really nice shoes.”

Funny what you think at times like those.

Was there symbolism in the whole episode?

Lowell takes the fall for predicting wrong.