Mistakes cost the Chiefs game that was theirs to win against San Francisco

Midway through the fourth quarter on Sunday at Levi’s Stadium, tentative themes of a compelling victory for the Chiefs unfurled everywhere.

They led 17-13, and the game was trending towards one that would command autographs on it … not an autopsy of a 22-17 loss.

Quarterback Alex Smith was creating a happy homecoming against the 49ers, even if he never had played in this new $1.3 billion crib.

Jamaal Charles was twisting and barging toward breaking the Chiefs’ career rushing record, and De’Anthony Thomas had electrified with his first two NFL touches.

Their defense had just erupted for three sacks in five San Francisco offensive plays, and the Chiefs surely could taste a 3-2 record.

Then they sagged out of here at 2-3.

And the enduring image of the game would be none of the above.

Instead, it was Smith lobbing an interception into traffic with just over two minutes left.

Or maybe more aptly it was the sad spectacle of Chiefs defenders Phillip Gaines and Chris Owens colliding and injuring each other as San Francisco’s Phil Dawson was making his fifth field goal of the game.

Because this was the Chiefs’ game to win, if they just hadn’t run into each other.

Most notably, two late special-teams gaffes cost them the lead and sabotaged their best chances at a rally.

Nothing guarantees they’d have won without those goofs. But those lapses now go on the ledger of coach Andy Reid, days after what could only have been considered a work of genius in a 41-14 romp over New England.

And that’s life in the NFL, where the margins for error have little to do even with the margins of victory days fore.

First, there was San Francisco’s fake punt on fourth-and-one from its own 29-yard line, churned into three yards and a first down by up-back Craig Dahl.

“They got us on that one,” a chagrined Reid said.

They had prepared for that, he said.

Not enough, though, and, shazam, San Francisco converted that into the go-ahead field goal.

But at least that one was done to them, not by them.

It wasn’t a sin of commission like the inexplicable play that punctured their most legitimate chance to come back.

With 4 minutes 19 seconds left, the Chiefs had squelched the 49ers and put them in a fourth-and-two bind at the Kansas City 36.

Dawson was on to kick a field goal, which seemed like risky tactic that could backfire in any number of ways.

A blocked kick would have been disastrous for San Francisco, and a mere miss would have given the Chiefs dandy field position.

At worst, though, it would have been just three points to make it a five-point game.

The Chiefs and Smith would have had plenty of time to work with to fashion the storybook ending of his return to the team that once had thought enough of him to make him the top pick in the NFL draft before dispensing with him.

But none of those scenarios played out, because the Chiefs somehow had 12 men on the field.

Most glaring was that no one even seemed aware of it and tried to hurry off the field.

Of course, there is a reason. But it’s impossible, really, to understand.

Either somebody on the field somehow was oblivious to the fact that he was in there with the guy he backs up, or at some point they figured the only way out of it was to try to hide and hope nobody noticed.

Maybe special teams captain Cyrus Gray, a Texas A&M graduate, gave some misunderstood pregame encouragement about the 12th-man tradition in College Station.

That would probably make more sense than however it unraveled.

So no wonder Reid practically flinched at a question about what happened.

“Um,” he said, pausing, “yeah. I’ll take the responsibility for that. I’ve got to make sure I count the guys and make sure down the stretch that everybody knows exactly what they’re doing there. And that they do it.”

Any number of people already are delegated for that, of course, from coaches to players on the field.

But the chain of command stops with Reid.

And that wasn’t the only puzzling and perhaps costly element of his own doing on Sunday.

In between those special-teams blunders, the Chiefs took the ball with 8:42 left and only mustered a three-and-out.

The series was snuffed out by a pass sniffed out by Ahmad Brooks, who batted down a pass from Smith … on third and one.

Now, Charles had averaged 5.3 yards a carry Sunday, and he’s got a fine track record in this line of work: He led the NFL in first downs last season with 104, including 72 on the ground.

Going by land sure seemed a more promising option.

Charles wasn’t complaining after the game, but you could hear his disappointment.

“Coach, he calls the plays,” he said. “And whatever he says, that’s what we’ve got to do.”

That play failed, but that’s also inseparable from this:

Seeing the same scheme, the Chiefs converted their first five third-down plays on Sunday.

Four of those were of three yards or fewer, and all were by pass.

So sometimes, plays don’t work. Sometimes, it’s the call, sometimes it’s the execution. Or both.

Reid is accomplished at pulling those levers, zooming in on a weakness and keeping other teams off-balance with a diverse attack.

But results are the only measure of those choices, and he didn’t have the right answers on Sunday in a game that might have been known for so much more as the Chiefs seem to be improving week to week.

“Son of a gun: We’re right there,” Reid said. “We’ve got to do a couple things better, starting with me, (and) we’re going to be OK.”

This story was originally published October 5, 2014 at 10:52 PM with the headline "Mistakes cost the Chiefs game that was theirs to win against San Francisco."