Samuel-49ers spat could hinder Lance’s ascension

The Deebo Samuel Dilemma all boils down to this: If he’s not suited up the first day of training camp, the 49ers are cooked.

It will be, “Sorry, Trey Lance. We let your No. 1 weapon slip away, a guy who could exploit your ability to throw deep, turn your short stuff into longer stuff, complement your option package, and send defenses into a tizzy. But we did get a couple high draft picks for him, and we’re sure they will be impactful right away!”

Samuel’s goals, and his strategy for obtaining them, remain a mystery. Is this simply about money? Does he feel the 49ers are endangering his livelihood by running him so much? Did somebody tick him off ?

If Samuel does have a personal beef, it’s probably not with coach Kyle Shanahan or QB Jimmy Garoppolo. Samuel and Shanahan have formed a strong friendship. Garoppolo, in recent national radio interviews, practically nominated Samuel for the Nobel Prize for coolness.

Garoppolo’s words of praise were the strongest show of support since Patrick Swayze said in “Dirty Dancing,” “Nobody puts baby in a corner.”

Baby Deebo is in a corner right now, and the 49ers better step up and whisk him out onto the dance floor.

A couple random thoughts on Deebo-gate:

Samuel should have some say in how he is used. Like,

It’s the 49ers’ choice. If they want Samuel on the team and can’t strike a new deal, and he plays for them for the $3.9 million under his current contract and is grumpy about it,

A grumpy Samuel is still a nuclear weapon.

We all know how much Shanahan loves the running game, but too much of that is not a sustainable formula. Shanahan goes through running backs at an alarming rate. Gotta shift the run-to-pass ratio so it’s in line with reality.

It doesn’t do any good to be a genius who creates superstar ballcarriers if you (and management) can’t find a way to keep ’em around. Where have you gone, Raheem Mostert?

WWJD? ( J for Joe, as in Lacob).

Deep thoughts, cheap shots and bon mots ... Trying to box off Nuggets center Nikola Jokic from the offensive boards looks like it’s as much fun as pass-blocking the 49ers’ Nick Bosa with your back to him. When a Nuggets shot goes up, watch Draymond Green try to screen out the Joker. I’ve seen grizzly bears who are more polite when barging into a cabin full of snacks. Memo to Draymond: There’s no point in falling for Jokic’s pump fakes at the top of the key. Even if he shoots a jumper, you’re not going to block it. That’s Gary Payton II’s job. If they get rid of all the feral cats at the Oakland Coliseum, will all the feral rats return? You would think all those critters would have a natural fear of the Coliseum plumbing. Warriors guard Stephen Curry has rendered meaningless the pregame introduction of starting lineups. That once-cool ceremony has long since become Cornball Theater anyway. Can we save some of that pyro for the Fourth of July? When the hometeam PA hypeman introduces the visiting team, it’s like someone just instructed him, “In 10 seconds, name the five most reprehensible people in your family.” Big cheers from this corner for Giants manager Gabe Kapler and his “Fahrenheit 451”-style burning of the book of unwritten rules. For one thing, those unwritten rules were written in 1873 and included stuff like this: “Upon striking a home run, the batsman must scurry around the bases head-down and, upon reaching his dugout, dispatch a batboy to the mound with a written letter of apology and a box of candy.” Kapler’s stand on unwritten rules presumably includes a disinclination to participate in a retaliatory beanball war, the most brain-dead tradition in all of sports. Klay Thompson describing Curry: “My goodness.” The last basketball person to use “my goodness” was John Wooden. Good gracious me! You would think the A’s home attendance would be this season, just from the number of people at each game who have come to see the major-league debut of their son/brother/ nephew/pal. The pitch clock being used experimentally in some minor leagues is shortening games by 20 minutes. And before you old-schoolers start crying about how you don’t care how long a game is, I refer you to veteran ballscribe Joe Posnanski, who points out that it’s not the actual time of game that’s important, it’s the pace of play. As one old sportswriter used to call out as the national anthem ended each game, “Play faster, you idiots!”