San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
Flukiest sequence in recent memory still reverberates
The Sporting Green has asked readers to submit their favorite memory from events they attended.
The response has been overwhelming, with a refreshingly wide range of recollection. This is the second in a recurring series of the submissions.
Entries have been edited in some cases for brevity and clarity. In terms of exact dates and names, factchecking was performed for accuracy.
“The Play”
The 1982 Big Game. All of us Cal grads sitting on the west side of Memorial Stadium. Stanford had just kicked a field goal to go ahead by a point, and we thought we had lost. Suddenly we heard screaming. We looked down at the field, and it was a mess. The Stanford band had come into the end zone early. Players were running through the band, people were jumping up and down, and someone screamed, “We won! We won!”
Then we heard the cannon on the hill. Cal had demolished the Stanford team, and the band. “The Play.” What a day.
— Doreen Burgin, San Rafael
“The Play” didn’t go my way in the 1982 Big Game, but I include it just for how memorable and improbable it was. I was fortunate enough to have snuck a flask of Jack Daniel’s into the game, because I sure needed it. I considered laying down in front of a bus on Bancroft Avenue on the way back to the BART station, but reason prevailed. Redemption came in 1990, a Stanford win that almost made up for The Play. The parallels were uncanny. It made me believe that there is a God after all, with a sense of justice and retribution. I danced on the field after the game.
— Brian Wright, Belmont
Worth the trip to Detroit
Game 4 of the 2012 World Series. After a Game 3 party in San Carlos that Saturday, I hopped on a redeye to Detroit. When I got dropped off at my hotel, there were security guards everywhere — and I realized I was staying at the same hotel as the Giants. The morning they clinched, I had the privilege of getting a photo with Hunter Pence, talking with numerous Giants as they paraded through the hotel, and sitting at arm’s length from Bruce Bochy while having my Bloody Mary. What capped it off was the game I attended that night — and partying under the rain in the early morning.
— Mark Reynolds, San Carlos
Let’s hear it for Clyde Lee
A hidden gem from the past: Game 6 of the 1973 NBA Western Conference semifinals, Warriors vs. Milwaukee Bucks at the Coliseum Arena. The Bucks had Kareem AbdulJabbar, 25 years old and at the peak of his skills, plus the great Oscar Robertson, Lucius Allen and Bobby Dandridge. The Warriors had Rick Barry in his first year back from his ABA hiatus, plus Nate Thurmond, Charles Johnson, Clyde Lee, Jim Barnett, Cazzie Russell, Jeff Mullins and Mahdi AbdulRahman (the former Walt Hazzard). I was completely impressed by the toughness of Barnett, who played like a madman throughout the series. Jabbar didn’t pull his usual temper tantrums when he was challenged — not against Nate, who was too good and too classy. Al Attles: Was there ever a cooler coach who worked the sidelines? The Bucks’ Larry Costello looked like a complete nerd next to him. The thing I remember most from Game 6 was Clyde Lee being introduced in the starting lineup, and he got a standing ovation that would not stop. I had goosebumps up and down my body and tears in my eyes, one of the most moving scenes I have ever witnessed. The Warriors didn’t win the championship, but they won the Milwaukee series that night, and I’m convinced the fans won it for them. That team deserves much recognition for its contributions to a golden age of Bay Area sports. — Mark Wainwright,
Grass Valley
Farewell to the ’Stick
Dec. 23, 2013, the last game ever played at Candlestick Park. My 90yearold mom and I got endzone tickets for our birthdays. Atlanta had the ball (late in the fourth quarter) and looked close to scoring, way at the other end of the field. We couldn’t see what was going on. All of a sudden ... someone is running toward us ... it’s a 49er! It’s NaVorro Bowman! He scores! And the 49ers ended up winning. Such a memorable way to end our lovehate relationship with the ’Stick.
— Judy Lau, Pinole
Olympic history
The L.A. Olympics featured the first women’s marathon on Aug. 5, 1984,
and those at the L.A. Coliseum were able to follow the race on video screens. Norway’s Grete Waitz looked like a formidable challenger to the great Joan Benoit, the U.S. champion. Early in the race, Joan put a move on the field to take the lead — too early, my wife and I thought. She’s going to bonk. But she wound up entering the Coliseum to an incredible roar, a minute ahead of Waitz, and triumphantly waved an American flag. The race was also memorable for the Swiss runner, Gabriela AndersenSchiess, who entered the Coliseum in nearcollapse. Officials followed her closely and we got concerned that they might pull her off the course — or worse, touch her, which would have disqualified her. But she finished, barely crossing the finish line before dropping into the arms of officials and medical personnel. I still get a lump in my throat when I think about that marvelous event.
— Elliott Smart, Quincy
De La Salle’s streak ends
On September 4, 2004, De La Salle High School had a 151game football winning streak on the line. I flew up to Seattle for the game against Bellevue at Qwest Field. As we all know, DLS lost the game 3920 to end the streak, but what made it memorable was DLS’ players entering the field, holding hands two by two. The crowd of 25,000 was silent. Not a peep. The DLS mystique was screaming. I will never forget the roar of the silence.
— Rocco Biale, Walnut Creek
Stew beats the Rocket
(Editor’s note: This game took place Aug. 30, 1988. Glenn Hubbard’s suicide squeeze in the sixth inning scored Carney Lansford with the only run of the game.)
At the Oakland Coliseum in the late 1980s, Dave Stewart and Roger Clemens, then with the Red Sox, faced off in a classic pitchers’ duel. It was excruciatingly tense and made more so by the developing trend of Stewart dominating Clemens.
Every pitch felt dangerous and thrilling as the game hung in the balance. I don’t remember when the only run was scored, but the A’s won 10. And Dave Stewart, not surprisingly, threw a complete game. It doesn’t get much better than that for me in baseball.
— Jan Booth, San Rafael
Fathers, sons and baseball
Shea Stadium on Father’s Day 1964, during a weekend trip to New York City from Philadelphia. It was a doubleheader, and the Phillies’ Jim Bunning pitched a perfect game in the opener. I was only 9, and I can still see my father standing and cheering while the Phillies’ players jumped up and down in celebration between home plate and the pitcher’s mound. I was too young to understand the significance of what happened, but I was just happy to be sitting in the bleachers, eating hot dogs and cotton candy with my dad; it cemented my love of baseball. That September, for my birthday, my father gave me an autographed baseball signed by the entire 1964 Phillies team, including manager Gene Mauch, which I have to this day. Right around that time, the pennant collapse began. (The Phillies blew a 61⁄2game lead with 12 games to play as St. Louis won the pennant.) — Mario Carrington,
San Leandro
My dad loved baseball, and he gave that love to me. Back in the 1930s, he was a catcher on a semipro team in San Francisco sponsored by the Owl Drug Company. He told me how the pitchers were paid $10 and the catchers $5, which he thought was unfair because the catchers did most of the work and took all the lumps. Together we’d listen to the major leagues’ “Game of the Night” on the radio as we lay in the living room. I often fell asleep listening to the soothing drone of the announcer’s voice as he called the playbyplay. I still love baseball on the radio today.
— Bill Burns, Palo Alto