San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
Catching ‘The Catch’ as catch can at Candlestick
You knew we’d get there eventually.
When the Sporting Green first asked readers to submit their fondest sports memories, there were a handful of moments we knew would be mentioned.
Today’s collection, the sixth in the series, leads off with a pair of recollections of what might be the greatest moment in Bay Area sports history: Dwight Clark’s frozenintime leap.
Entries have been edited in some cases for brevity and clarity. In terms of exact dates and names, factchecking was performed for accuracy.
The Catch
The 49ers are my first love in sports, going back to games at Kezar Stadium with my dad and brothers, and Jan. 10, 1982, is unquestionably my most memorable moment. That fateful day at Candlestick against the hated Cowboys. I have no idea why I was moved to do so, but I had stashed a couple of bottles of Champagne in the van we took to the game. Then the miracle of “The Catch” happened, the Niners’ defense (barely) held the Cowpokes from driving back to score, and bedlam broke out. We popped those bottles and basically screamed the whole way home. As the years went on, I had the privilege of getting to know Bill Walsh and Dwight Clark, and it brings me joy writing this during these terrible times, remembering the joy that enveloped our region as the 49ers’ upstarts arrived and met their moment in the sun.
The 49ersDallas NFC Championship Game in January of ’82. The Cowboys were living in the minds of every Niner fan, and their fans were smug and confident. I went with two friends who had season tickets, but I was at the mercy of the scalpers. Sure enough, I wound up smackdab in the middle of the Cowboys’ fan section. The guy next to me had on a cowboy hat that was about the size of Texas. When Dallas scored right in front of us to take the lead in the second half, Mr. Cowboy waved his hat in my face and said, “That’s Texas football, son.” Remarkably, though, I discovered that his wife was secretly rooting for San Francisco. Every time the Niners did something positive in the second half, I got an elbow nudge from her. When Dwight Clark made “The Catch,” she was standing on her seat, cheering with me. At the end, Mr. Cowboy was so distraught he didn’t notice his wife crying in joy for a Cowboys defeat. As I departed to grab a piece of the turf and celebrate with 49er fans, I noticed that he was curled in a fetal position, buried under his hat, and there was a big splat of yellow mustard on one of his $2,500 boots. As if I wasn’t smiling enough.
NCAA bonanza in Oakland
March 23, 1990, at the Oakland Coliseum Arena — still can’t get used to calling it Oracle — for the NCAA men’s basketball western regional semifinals. This night had it all. Plucky underdog: No. 12 seed Ball State had knocked off Gary Payton’s Oregon State team and No. 4 Louisville, coached by Denny Crum. Bad clothes: Alabama coach Wimp Sanderson’s sport coat. Heartwrenching story line: Loyola Marymount with Bo Kimble shooting lefthanded free throws (notably in the first round against New Mexico State) in honor of teammate Hank Gathers, who died during a conference tournament game three weeks earlier. Loyola coach Paul Westhead trying to change college basketball with a revolutionary game plan. And finally, a “villain” and No. 1 seed, UNLV. They’d had a target on their backs for years for possibly unscrupulous behavior, yet never got caught — and they were loaded with three firstround NBA draft picks: Larry Johnson, Stacey Augmon and Greg Anthony. This was a doubleheader with huge stakes, and wow — the games did not disappoint. Ball State nearly knocked off UNLV in the first game, losing 6967. The second game was equally riveting with Loyola prevailing 6260 over ’Bama. What a night of basketball!
A Giants “W” and a Dubs dagger
I submit my unique “doubleheader day” on June 6, 2018. It started with the GiantsArizona game at AT&T Park, and as the game goes to extra innings, I tell my son we can only stay one more inning, since we’re heading to Oakland for a watch party of Game 3 of the NBA Finals against Cleveland. With two out in the 10th, Andrew McCutchen doubles and scores on a walkoff single by Brandon Crawford for a 54 win. Then we jump on BART, making it to Oracle Arena in time for the 6 p.m. tipoff. Kevin Durant seals the 110102 win with a 3point shot eerily similar to his Game 3 shot the year before. The Warriors are on their way to a 40 sweep, their third title in four years.
A long, strange day
Mine isn’t a single event, but two popcultural happenings on the same day. It was Oct. 16, 1974, the A’s were on their way to polishing off their third straight World Series title, and the Grateful Dead were about to kick off a series of shows at Winterland. My dorm friend at San Francisco State, Jeff Soul, and I decided to wing it for the doubleheader of the ages. We took my pumpkinorange AMC Gremlin across the bridge, found scalper tickets at the Coliseum ($10 in the bleachers) and settled in for a classic Game 4 A’s win featuring solid pitching and a bolt out of nowhere — Ken Holtzman took the Dodgers’ Andy Messersmith deep. Back in the City, we bought walkup tickets for the Dead ($5.50 day of the show) and walked in as Jerry Garcia was jamming on “Tennessee Jed” late in the first set. They played three sets that night, going past 1 a.m. A coworker once listened to that story and observed, “When you’re young, you expect stuff like that to happen all the time.” But, alas, it was once in a lifetime.
Lincecum in fine form
The one that stands out is the first game of the Giants’ 2010 postseason against the Braves. In his first playoff start, Tim Lincecum’s 14strikeout, twohit shutout was the best pitched game I’ve ever seen in person. The Giants managed only one run, on a Cody Ross hit driving in Buster Posey from second base in the fourth inning. Posey had made an unlikely steal to be in scoring position, but had instant replay been in effect, he would almost certainly have been called out. Replays in the park strongly suggested it wasn’t a particularly close play. If he’d been called out, who knows what the result would have been? How would an extrainning loss, after such a brilliant pitching performance, have affected the Giants’ run to the World Series? Thankfully, we will never know.
Mantle’s big fly
On May 30, 1956, as a high school sophomore, my friends and I went to see the Yankees play Washington in a Memorial Day doubleheader. We were sitting in the rightfield upper deck. In the first game, Mickey Mantle hit a shot off Pedro Ramos that soared over our heads. It was still rising when it hit the Yankee Stadium facade behind us. As amazing as that was, in the second game he hit one off Camilo Pascual that cleared the second fence in the Yankee bullpen and landed where the pitchers warm up.
(Editor’s note: Estimates vary, but some historians claim the shot off Ramos would have traveled close to 600 feet if it had cleared the stadium.)
Raiders fans, turn away
I’m a Pittsburgh boy, Steelers fan, and in 1972 I was living in North Canton, Ohio, working for the Hoover Company and volunteering at the Pro Football Hall of Fame. A dream job. At a bar called Russ Lee’s, my friends and I were glued to the divisional playoff game between the Steelers and the hated Raiders. To say it was a heated rivalry would be a gross understatement. John Madden boarded the plane for Pittsburgh and said he felt like he was going to Vietnam. It wasn’t looking good for the Steelers, losing 76, last play of the game at their own 40 ... Bradshaw back to pass. Throws it downfield to John Fuqua and it’s broken up by Jack Tatum, but it bounces off his shoulder pad and is scooped up by Franco Harris, trailing the play. The glorious Franco sprints downfield into history recording the “Immaculate Reception.” The packed bar goes nuts. People screaming with delight and jumping over each other. I wasn’t wealthy, but I bought drinks for everyone in that bar. Never did it before and never did it again.