Money and decision-making power in pro sports are key motivating factors, especially when they place you at the peak of your profession.

Please join me on a trip into the gray matter of Jim Harbaugh as he and his very active mind team up to decide what his next chapter as a coaching enfant terrible will look like.

According to a new study, the bulk of human decision-making may occur in one of the smallest parts of the brain. Researchers from the University of British Columbia have discovered that the tiny lateral habenula plays a crucial role in calculated, cost-benefit decisions. The findings, published in Nature Neuroscience magazine, shed additional light on the neurological processes whereby we make up our mind.

"These findings clarify the brain processes involved in the important decisions that we make on a daily basis, from choosing between job offers to deciding which house or car to buy."

So here we are in the lateral habenula of coach Jim Harbaugh's brain. Shhhh! Let's listen in to what might be going on.

Decision One: I'm staying. I'll honor my contract because I'm an honorable man. In case you forgot, my record since taking over this struggling franchise is 49-22-1, with three visits to the NFC championship and one to the Super Bowl, along with a .690 winning percentage. In college I was a combined 58-27 at the University of San Diego and Stanford. I can't wait to hear team ownership rationalize, saying I'm a good man and a great coach but don't have the right stuff to rebound from one season in the Bermuda Triangle of injuries. I could get the 49ers back to the Super Bowl by 2016, when that mega-event happens to be coming to the Pants Palace in Santa Clara.

Decision Two: OK, even though I was just fired, traded, resigned, reassigned or moved in a new direction, I'm going to become the highest-paid coach in the history of college football at my alma mater, Michigan. My lateral habenula just pointed out that:

1.  I can turn the Wolverines program around in about 12 minutes, and

      we play in front of an appreciative crowd of 110,000 every weekend

      at the Big House.

2.  No owner, GM or front office suits can tell me what I know better

     than they do, which is how to turn mush into mighty men who win

     football games.

3.  I will only have my players for four years or less, so they move on

     before my laser-like focus burns a hole in their youthful psyches.

4.  Pete Carroll went back to school and came back to the NFL to win the

     Big One. I can do the same.

5.  Beating Ohio State? Done!

6.  Although I am a force of nature, taking a few years to live like a

     normal human being and family man with six children isn't such a

     bad assignment.

7.  I can tuck my Wolverine sweatshirt into my khakis without any

     Fashionistas having a cow.

Decision Three: Yes LH (lateral habenula), I know there is no Lombardi trophy in my den. Miami is too hot. New York? No, those jackals in the media will be on me like a decomposing water buffalo.Chicago? Hmm, even I can't turn veal Cutler into prime rib. 

Decision Four: I'll take a year off and indulge my interest in history and go back to Piura, Peru, to help the community and build more casas.

Decision Five: Maybe I'll spend some time working on my acting chops. The reviews for my roles on Saved by the Bell and The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr. were over the top. Judge Judy promised to work with me on method acting.

Decision Six: I could jump into the No. 1 car for my Panther Racing Team and see if I can win Indy before winning the national championship and the Super Bowl.

So please excuse me, because lateral habenula and I have some decisions to make. This week, next week or soon after I'm going to wake up rich or richer.

 Happy holidays and enjoy the New Year. It was fun while it lasted.

As long as they are in the East Bay, the W's are our team, make no mistake. We've had them for 40 years. But let's face it, we will only have them in Oakland a few more short seasons, and then they will be off to the glitz and glamour of San Francisco. I can only hope that the new arena does not turn out be the NBA equivalent of the soul-destroying, for-the-rich-only corporate palace Levi's Stadium, which has taken a richly deserved rookie pummeling in the court of public opinion. But as far as my future allegiance to the Warriors, I doubt it will change.

We all have a history 

I started rooting for the Warriors in 1974, when I transplanted from the East Coast to Santa Cruz, and the very next year they won it all with Al Attles at the helm, sweeping the Baltimore Bullets in one of the great upsets in NBA history. They were a sterling example of team basketball, 10 deep, and despite the presence of the mercurial Rick Barry -- or because of it, some might say -- were as unselfish a team as you will find. However, in the past three decades several things have happened to the team - some good, many not so good.

It wasn't until Chris Mullin came aboard in 1985 that the Warriors and their exciting brand of ball began to get noticed. Under Don Nelson they reached the playoffs in 1987 ("Sleepy Floyd is Superman!" was team announcer Greg Papa's assessment of Floyd's legendary 29-point fourth-quarter outburst against the Lakers) and in 1989, actually getting to the second round each time.

In 1991 I stumbled upon the nickname Run TMC in response to a contest in the now-defunct Sunday San Francisco Examiner. The editors has asked the readers to come up with a moniker for the illustrious trio of Mullin, Richmond and Hardaway (a.k.a. Run TMC) which remarkably only played together a little more than two seasons. Oh, but what a glorious two years it was, as they led the Warriors to the postseason in 1991 and '92.

But when 1994 Rookie of the Year Chris Webber selfishly decided that he could not play for Nelson, the team went through a dozen years wandering in the desert, never exceeding 38 wins. The W's went through head coaches like water: Lanier, Adelman, Carlesimo, the Saint, Cowens, Winters, Musselman, even Mike Montgomery. It looked bleak until 2006, when Nellie returned. The "We Believe" group, playing their distinctive brand of run-and-gun Nellie Ball 2.0, managed to make the playoffs, upsetting the top-seeded Mavericks that first year. Hopes were high, but in retrospect that success was a fleeting illusion, as anyone who witnessed the collective act of Baron Davis, Stephen Jackson and Matt Barnes remembers.

The new ownership came aboard in 2010. In 2011 Mark Jackson brought his sermon to Oracle. In 2012, enter Andrew Bogut, exit Monta Ellis. In 2013 they returned to the playoffs, getting to the second round, and last year they won 51 games. In 2014, exit Jackson, enter Steve Kerr.

This is the Steph Curry era, and now the fans feel that making the playoffs is their right. The crowd at Oracle is the best in the NBA -- endless sellouts, terrific energy, loyal, positive, raucous -- everything a team could want. I anticipate that the sellouts will continue, but I am not sure the rest will translate to the palace Lacob and Gruber are planning in Mission Bay.

But let's face it; how many of us even go to games? I go maybe once a year. Why? It doesn't work with my schedule; it's expensive, especially for a good seat; and I find that as I get older I just don't like crowds. So I enjoy the games from the comfort of my couch, soaking in the soothing insights of Jim Barnett. Will I stop rooting for the Warriors when they move across the Bay? Of course not.  Am I sad -- and mad -- that they're moving? You're damn right I am, and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. But there are things to like about this situation.

The staff 

The bottom line is this: I am not a big Lacob fan, but hiring Bob Myers -- who, let's not forget, was on the other side of the table as an agent for many years -- was a very smart call. And getting the legendary Jerry West, who's forgotten more about basketball than most GMs ever knew, was a masterstroke. Finally, the pickup of the even-tempered but tough Kerr seems like a brilliant move, along with savvy veteran assistants Ron Adams and Alvin Gentry, who have already made me forget Jackson's troubled staff. So there is an excellent front office and coaching staff in place that should be solid wherever the team plays.

The team

OK, it's been a bit rocky lately, what with the injuries to our big men, but look at the amazing record. Now that the team is finally more than respectable, let's just be thankful we're in the middle of a Bay Area renaissance for NBA basketball. If Curry and Thompson continue to splash, if Harrison continues to grow, if Draymond continues to do everything, and if Andrew Bogut can be healthy in May, we will be that team that nobody wants to meet in the playoffs.

The gym

Although Oracle is undeniably a big part of their success, the Warriors have earned plenty of goodwill the last few years because of their exciting style of basketball, and that should be enough to earn them the entire fan base's continued love, even if they move to S.F. After all, they were the San Francisco Warriors originally, right? For 10 years they toiled mostly at the Cow Palace, a dump that made the old Coliseum look like the Taj Mahal. (Full disclaimer: I miss the funky old pre-Oracle version, especially halftime under the steps ...)

The crystal ball is cloudy

So, yes, it's an awful feeling that the Oakland teams may ALL be gone soon, and I am sick about it. But the Warriors aren't gone yet, and I have my fingers crossed that the town's new mayor might be able to pull off some late-inning, fourth-quarter magic to keep the A's and the Raiders here. Only time will tell, but it is possible that the only Oakland team left in the area could be the Golden State Warriors, and they will deserve our appreciation, our support -- and our love.

In fact, it's not even a contest. Pick any sport, in any country, and in terms of fans' mistreatment, Oakland laps the field.

Where else do you have three sport franchises in one city and all three owners trying to move? Nowhere else. And it's not because there isn't fan support in Oakland.

Let's start with the pro football Raiders, only because they've already moved away and then moved back. Los Angeles is a sports mecca, supposedly, but the Raiders gave up trying to make it there and returned to little old Oakland.

It's been 12 years since the Raiders last made the playoffs, and yet their fan loyalty remains unquestioned. This year's team could be the franchise's worst since the early 1960s, pre-Al Davis, yet sellouts continue right along because of their fans' unequaled, unbridled passion. A Raiders home football game is the closest thing to Mardi Gras in the NFL. There are more costumes and face-paintings than anyone will ever see on Halloween night. It is a remarkable happening, obviously not dependent on winning.

And Raiders owner Mark Davis, Al's only child, keeps threatening to move, when he should be more concerned about assembling a winning football team, a lost art form in Oakland. The Raiders have down-spiraled from dominance to dormant. Quite frankly, who would want them but Oakland?

Of course, they want a new stadium. Who doesn't in professional sports, in this era of stadium roulette, with cities played against other cities? Davis should concern himself with resuscitation instead of trying to revive a comatose football team.

But -- Hallelujah! -- with the chaos across the bay in San Francisco, actually Santa Clara, it's possible the 49ers may part with head coach Jim Harbaugh, as crazy as that sounds since he lifted a dead franchise into three straight conference games, and one Super Bowl, in his first three years on the job. His type-A personality is hard to live with, we're told, and he could be made available to Oakland. Now it's easier to find a general manager than a winning coach, but the 49ers could be willing to sacrifice Harbaugh, who could work next in Oakland if he's given enough power. He's worth the migraines he'll cause if he can bring change, which he's done everywhere else (University of San Diego and Stanford). I'd give him a new contract if I were 49ers owner Jed York, because how are you going to replace him? If it's Mike Holmgren, well OK, but why run the risk that the franchise could go right back into the toilet without Harbaugh?

Meanwhile, the pro basketball Warriors are designing a new arena in San Francisco, their old home. Remember, the Warriors, over a recent 17-year stretch, were the NBA's worst franchise, with one playoff appearance. Yet they played before repeated sellout crowds, and still had the NBA's 10th-best attendance in spite of their ineptitude.

So what happens when the new ownership took over? Out of Joe Lacob's first four press conferences, three were held in San Francisco. And when the Warriors finally announced that they were, indeed, moving to San Francisco, who just happened to attend that event but NBA commissioner David Stern. How special.

Which brings us to Oakland's big problem: the name Oakland. There's something about Oakland that makes its sports owners want to flee. This wanderlust dates back to former A's owner Charles O. Finley, who tried his best to leave in the 1970s, but was denied. The Haas family then turned the A's into a mini-dynasty, with three straight World Series appearances, and rabid fan devotion. And all because A's fans finally were treated as first-class citizens.

Subsequent A's ownership, whether it was Steve Schott or Lew Wolff, carried Bekins business cards in their wallets, trying to get out of Oakland as fast as possible. Oakland won out every time, as Wolff struck out twice, in Fremont and San Jose. Even Wolff's good buddy, Commissioner Bud Selig, couldn't extract the wolf-like Wolff from Oakland.

And why should ANYONE want to leave Oakland? Its coliseum and arena stand smack dab in the middle of the Bay Area. Contra Costa County is to the north, Santa Clara County to the east, San Mateo County to the south, and San Francisco and Marin counties to the west. BART runs by those two sports facilities on one side, and there's a freeway on the other. There is no better sports location in the Bay Area.

In addition, Oakland is going through an economic boon. New restaurants and businesses are opening right and left. Two Art Deco theaters have been restored. Oakland has the most creative symphony in the country. Oakland's art scene is thriving; up to 2,000 people have participated in its first-Friday-of-the-month art stroll. And don't forget artist Mario Chiodo's creative "Remember Them" sculpture, honoring freedom makers, in downtown Oakland. Sure, Oakland has a crime problem, but what big city doesn't? Nonetheless, Oakland is a happening place.

I have lived in Oakland since 1964, when I started working for the Oakland Tribune, so I know Oakland. I'm sure I could give Lew Wolff and the Warriors' most visible owner, Joe Lacob, a tour of the town, since it would be their first such tour. Mark Davis knows Oakland, though he probably knows Los Angeles better. And to think that Oakland renovated the Coliseum to lure his late father back from la-la land, which was a blow to the A's. Oakland renovated the arena for the Warriors, too, but franchise roulette plays no favorites.

I feel sorry for Oakland. It's a great sports town, with Super Bowl, World Series and NBA championships. But it's the most unappreciated sports town anywhere on the planet. Build a new stadium in Oakland? There's plenty of available land on the same property where the Raiders, A's and Warriors now perform. There's no reason for any of them to leave.