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Who needs the BCS, anyway? We’re better than that! Nor do we need a certain bowl game that shall not be mentioned by name in this article. The Cal Bears had a phenomenal season, period. Who needs validation from a virus-addled computer? Not us! As the bitterness and rage subsides--and maybe one day they will--Cal fans are left with a cornucopia of riches. We have a classy coach who generously opted to spare unranked Southern Mississippi the full wrath of our offense; a 10–1 season brimming with thrills and shattered records; and a bowl game in sunny southern California. Not the unmentionable bowl game in sunny southern California, but let’s face it, only a few months ago we would have been elated with any bowl invitation, especially one within driving distance. Of course, it was hard to convince Cal fans that life was worth living at all after the debacle of December 5. There was no way around it--Cal, ranked No. 4 with its only loss a near-miss against No. 1 USC, rightfully deserved an invitation to the unmentionable bowl game. The only reason the Bears were not issued that invitation is because we did not pummel our friends at Southern Mississippi. If that game had been played September 16 as originally scheduled, instead of delayed until December 4 due to an act of God, none of this would have happened. Instead, an unnameable bid went to Texas, and Cal was served with a trip to the Pacific Life Holiday Bowl against No. 23 Texas Tech. Given the magnitude of disappointment and frustration among Cal fans, it was natural that conspiracy theories bloomed instantly. Even the most rational among us noticed an unholy series of “coincidences”:
But it would be a mistake to let the misdeeds of the BCS overshadow such a historic, amazing, fun-filled season. A bowl game lasts three-and-a-half hours. But we had three months of unmitigated glory. In Memorial Stadium. During football season. As the Bears racked up one 40-point victory over another, Cal fans got to experience a whole new emotion. We got to gloat. And we learned that gloating is more fun and overall healthier than brooding and head-scratching. “This season was very beneficial to our psyche,” said Dr. William Brock ’35, who should know. A native of Berkeley, he was at the very first game played at Memorial Stadium in 1923. His daughter and granddaughter both graduated from Cal, and he still has six tickets on the 50-yard line, which for years he shared with Pappy Waldorf. “Cal fans have gone through so much” said Dr. Brock, 91, a retired general surgeon. “We’ve seen Cal be defeated for so long. This season has been such a thrill.” And we weren’t alone in savoring it. An average of 64,019 fans crowded Memorial Stadium in their blue and gold finery on Saturdays, a record for attendance that the University hopes to top next year. There were a slew of other shattered records, as well:
Aaron Rodgers, the No. 7 quarterback in the country, completed 23 consecutive passes against USC, tying an NCAA record; averaged 8.5 yards per completed pass; threw for 23 touchdowns; and finished the season with a 67.5 percent completion rating. Rounding out the nation’s No. 5 offense was Geoff McArthur, who had 57 receptions for 862 yards, averaging 15.1 yards per catch; freshman Marshawn Lynch, who averaged 9.1 yards per carry and 8.1 yards per catch; and Chase Lyman, who averaged a phenomenal 29.6 yards per catch and 13 yards per carry before suffering a season-ending torn ACL during the USC game.
“I really can’t convey how much this season has meant,” said Patrick Cox ’92, a tax attorney in New York City who had friends call him with minute-by-minute game updates when he couldn’t catch Cal games on TV. “It used to be we’d be sitting in the stands waiting to lose. But now we don’t have that anxiety hanging over us. We have high hopes. It’s been a great, great year.” Tedford did what many before him had tried and failed to do: He turned the Cal Bears into winners. It only took him about ten seconds to convince the players that, after a solid decade of futility, they should expect victory. And it only took three seasons, two bowl games, and three Big Game wins to convince a deeply skeptical fan base--not bad, all things considered. “That’s been the amazing thing about this season--we know we’re going to win,” said Greg Overholtzer ’78, MBA ’81, chief financial officer for a biotech company who finds time to send out a daily e-mail newsletter on Cal football to more than 100 recipients. The change in the fans’ overall mentality was most apparent in the wake of the Big Game. “As I walked down the hill after the Big Game, I thought of all the other times we’ve made that walk, in the gathering darkness, when the crowd has been scant and quiet,” my father said. “But this year it was a happy, gabbling mob.” The contrast from previous years was such that, after the game, we just sat there on the stationwagon tailgate and stared at each other. “We don’t have anything to talk about,” my brother said. “There’s no recrimination, no talk of firing the coach, no blame to spread around.” As glorious as winning was, there was a flip side. And that was that we had to share our little secret with about 40,000 extra souls every Saturday. In retrospect, there was something nice about being able to stretch our legs on the empty seats in front of us; lean against the empty seats behind us; be on a first-name basis with the chocolate malt guy; go to the bathroom at halftime, get a hot dog, and be back in time for the Band; and not be subjected to corporate advertising and loud music.
“Are we in the right stadium?” my brother kept asking. “You’re sure these are the Cal Bears? Check your ticket stub again.” Next year we’ll be used to it. We’ll expect to win every week. We’ll figure out where to park and how to negotiate the long lines for hot dogs. And we’ll finish the season at a big-time bowl game in a sunny city in southern California. And if we don’t, at least we’ll get some leg room back. Carolyn Jones ’92, former editor of the Daily Californian and California Monthly assistant editor, writes for the San Francisco Chronicle. |
 Photos by Mike Wondolowski
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