San Francisco's first Super Bowl team was originative and exhilarating, much like the 2012 squad

The man in the navy blue bellman's outfit grabbed suitcases as players and media walked off the bus. Who was this guy? He was aggressive, grabbing the way he did. Some people tried to brush him off. But he kept taking bags.

Then it dawned on everyone. It was Bill Walsh, coach of the 49ers, the 1981-1982 team that was here in Michigan for the Super Bowl against the Bengals. People got a laugh out of that one.

The world was just getting to know Walsh. He had so many sides to him - the joker who was being a bellman - there also was the football genius, the brooder, the insecure guy, the guy with confidence as high as the moon.

There was something so new about all this in January 1982, new just like now - a team establishing itself, a team forcing itself on the national consciousness.

Sure, there are differences. Jim Harbaugh's team isn't coming out of nowhere. It was the preseason favorite to win the Super Bowl, and Walsh's team had gone 2-14 and 6-10 the previous seasons. Both teams share a sense of newness and the feeling the sky's the limit.

Which means what's happening now is the second time Northern California is experiencing this rebirth through the Niners - it will be complete if the current team defeats the Ravens.

You have to remember when the Niners did it the first time, beat Cincinnati 26-21 in the Pontiac Silverdome, hardly anyone on the team was famous. In hindsight, Joe Montana was Joe Montana, and Bill Walsh was Bill Walsh.

Not then. They were just emerging and there was something fantasy-like about the whole thing. Ronnie Lott seemed like a good player for a rookie, but he didn't have the street cred, say, Justin Smith has now. You get the point.

All of that began to change on Nov. 1, 1981, began to change one dramatic Sunday in Pittsburgh.

Please allow me a personal note. I was in New York covering the World Series between the Yankees and Dodgers - it had been delayed because of a strike and the Dodgers won in six. I was ready to go home. Nov. 1 happens to be my birthday and I was turning 36. That seems so young now. If I could be 36 again I know I could do better in the ensuing years.

Anyway, my editor told me: Don't go home, go to Pittsburgh where Ira Miller arranged with Eddie D. for a hotel room and a game credential. It was that simple in those days. Eddie took care of me. The Niners - they were referred to as the "upstart" 49ers - were an improbable 6-2. No way a serious sports writer could miss this game.

The Steelers were a tough team, just two years removed from being the champs, and they were mean, and I wondered if they would hurt the Niners and end this fantasy. Reality destroying the dream.

No way. The 49ers hit harder than the Steelers. That was obvious right away. Rookie safety Carlton Williamson was blasting Steelers all over the place. People forget how tough Walsh's teams were. They were built on defense. That's right, defense. They took their shots and they were hard shots.

San Francisco trailed 14-10 going into the fourth quarter. Walt Easley ran in the ball from the one, and Ray Wersching converted the PAT and the Niners won 17-14.

And then the most amazing thing happened. The media hustled to the locker room in Three Rivers Stadium and we waited outside the 49ers' locker room, waited for these guys who now were 7-2 and on their way to the Super Bowl, although they didn't know it yet. From inside the big steel door, we heard a cheer. A loud cheer. And it went on and on, raucous, joyful, innocent.

Lott and Montana and Freddy Solomon and Dwight Clark and Randy Cross, all those men who are famous now but weren't famous then, they were cheering like a college team. In a way, it was a college team.

What were they cheering?

Sure, they cheered because they beat the fearsome Steelers.

It was more than that.

They cheered because they finally recognized who they were, or who they might soon be. They cheered because they glimpsed - grabbed - the sweetest truth in that spare locker room in Pittsburgh, and now it was taking over their brains and their entire worldview. They were for real.

You could make a case the entire 49ers' dynasty began on that long ago November 1. And now the current 49ers have a chance to create their own indelible reality and cheer that college cheer.

I can tell them from experience it sounds good.

(For more on the world of sports in general and the Bay Area in particular, go to the Cohn Zohn at cohn.blogs.pressdemocrat.com. You can reach Staff Columnist Lowell Cohn at lowell.cohn@pressdemocrat.com.)