Lowell Cohn: With Super Bowl 50, Bay Area back in sports spotlight

In honor of next Sunday's Super Bowl between the Denver Broncos and Carolina Panthers at Levi's Stadium, here is a list of 10 great moments from Bay Area sports history. This is my list, idiosyncratic, representing events I covered in the past 36 years or moments I was aware of and mattered to me.

You'll notice I include no Raiders moments. The Raiders moved to L.A. shortly after I began writing sports and, when they finally returned, mostly weren't good. I apologize for the omission. Here's my list.

Stanford Super Bowl, Jan. 20, 1985

Yes, that's right. Look up “Stanford Super Bowl” online and you come up with Super Bowl XIX between the hometown 49ers and the Miami Dolphins. It was the first Super Bowl around here, next week's being the second. Of course, the 49ers won 38-16. It's what they did in those days. Win. They schooled second-year quarterback Dan Marino and coach Don Shula. They won five Super Bowls in that glorious era, never lost a Super Bowl until Jim Harbaugh almost won but didn't.

Joe Montana - who else? - was the MVP of the Stanford Super Bowl. It was the 49ers' second Super Bowl title. Montana threw three touchdown passes and ran for another, ran for 59 yards in all. He never had been so elusive - like Russell Wilson, but a much better quarterback. The national audience learned even more about Montana's greatness that day.

They played in the old Stanford stadium before it got jazzed up. Stanford Stadium never has been as picturesque as Cal's Memorial Stadium, but it has its own beauty. Sits along El Camino Real near those beautiful groves filled with Eucalyptus Trees and picnic tables bathed in the shade. So bucolic. The Farm.

The Niners had won 15 games that season. Best football team on Earth. Everyone knew about the Niners offense, but the defensive backs were spectacular - Ronnie Lott, Dwight Hicks, Carlton Williamson and Eric Wright. And the fact is the game was no contest. The showdown between Montana and Marino never showed - Marino threw only one TD and got picked twice. And the 49ers just kept rolling.

USA vs. USSR, July 21-22, 1962

It has been called The Greatest Track Meet of All Time, the USA-USSR Dual Track Meet at Stanford Stadium, July 21-22, 1962. There were other dual meets, to be sure. The USA-USSR track meet series ran from 1958 to 1985. But this was the most famous, most dramatic, most important of them all.

It was in the middle of the Cold War. The Soviet Union was planning the Berlin Wall. The Cuban Missile Crisis was a few months in the future. The United States and the Soviet Union were locked in what one writer called a “death-stare.”

And Payton Jordan, Stanford's legendary track-and-field coach, had a brilliant idea. Put the meet at Stanford. Get it away from the East Coast - the American Athletic Union was perceived to have an East Coast bias. Invite the Soviets to Palo Alto, then a sleepy Peninsula college town - not the upscale burg now serving Silicon Valley.

Put the Soviet athletes in Stern Hall Dormitory. Better yet, let some stay with local families - like exchange students. Show them every courtesy. Make the meet friendly and collegial, a model of sportsmanship. This was Payton Jordan's genius: show the two hostile governments a model of civilized behavior.

Jordan wanted the meet so much he needed and got approval from the State Department. He arranged for Stanford to pick up the tab. More than 150,000 spectators crammed into the stadium for the two-day competition. It was televised nationally. I watched in Brooklyn, amazed by the beauty of California. “Does the Earth actually look like that?” I remember thinking, never imagining I'd be running on that track four years later.

Americans Bob Hayes and Wilma Rudolph won the 100 meters. Jim Beatty took the 1,500, Ralph Boston won the long jump defeating his Soviet rival, the great Igor Ter-Ovanesyan. Hal Connolly set a record in the hammer throw. They usually throw the hammer outside a stadium, but Jordan made them compete right there on the grass for the crowd to see.

Soviet high jumper Valery Brumel, still a legend, broke the world high jump record. Cleared 7 feet, 5 inches. Didn't use the Flop. Jumped the old style. As he landed in the pit, the bar shook but then stabilized, and the American crowd gave Brumel a five-minute standing ovation.

At the end, the American men beat the Russian men, and the Soviet women beat the American women. And at the end, the athletes walked a victory lap, many Americans and Russians holding hands with each other. A few months later, the world was on the brink of war.

Stew vs. Clemens, Oct. 10, 1990

It was the Oakland A's vs. the Boston Red Sox in the American League Championship Series and Game 4 at the Oakland Coliseum, the A's leading the series 3-0. Oakland was the defending World Series champion.

Looked at another way, this game was A's starting pitcher Dave Stewart vs. Red Sox starter Roger Clemens. Pure Stewart-Clemens. Two great pitchers. Neither a Hall of Famer. Stewart might have been the best pitcher in the AL four consecutive years when he won at least 20 games each season, but didn't have enough of those seasons. Clemens, you know why he isn't in the Hall.

Stewart was in Clemens' head. Had burrowed into his gray matter like a tick, and he drove Clemens crazy. Scared him to death. It was remarkable to see. Ranks as a sports phenomenon. And everyone saw it that game.

Clemens had given up one run in the bottom of the second. Walked Mark McGwire. Didn't like home-plate umpire Terry Cooney's call. Never has a man gone more nutso in a big game, a make-or-break-game. Clemens ranted at Cooney. Cursed him out. According to reports, Clemens screamed, “Put your bleeping mask on and get your ass back behind the plate.”

Cooney stayed patient. Then Clemens bumped an umpire. See you later, hothead.

Stewart, with his killer scowl, could do that to people. Routinely did it to Clemens.

Clemens was supposed to be the Red Sox savior. Supposed to keep them in the series. And he blew under the pressure. Was begging to get thrown out when the Sox most needed him. He was the total opposite of Stewart, who loved pressure and wanted the ball in the most dramatic games.

“That was a big meltdown,” Stewart said. “He had a history of getting away with that kind of stuff, and he cussed the umpire out three different times - he was asking to come out of that game. It's unbelievable how much he melted down, after only one run.”

That quote comes from Susan Slusser's book “100 Things A's Fans Should Know & Do Before They Die.” On that bright fall day, the great Roger Clemens died a public death. Dave Stewart was the executioner.

Sleepy Floyd Game, May 10, 1987

The NBA Western Conference Semifinals at the Oakland Coliseum Arena. Warriors vs. Lakers. Lakers up 3-0 in the series, going for the sweep. And why not?

The Warriors were not a good team, hadn't been in the playoffs for a decade, The “Showtime” Lakers had Magic Johnson, Kareem Abdul Jabbar, James Worthy - three future Hall of Famers. And everything was going the Lakers' way. They entered the fourth quarter up 14. The Warriors would go through the motions and be good losers, their standard role. It's just that Eric “Sleepy” Floyd didn't feel that way. He went berserk. I was there, sitting behind the north basket covering the game, and I'd never seen anyone take over a basketball game like Floyd.

Only 6-foot-3, he dominated the Lakers stars. Kept driving the hoop, leaving Michael Cooper, an elite defender, standing as fixed as a fire hydrant. Floyd just taking it to Abdul Jabbar, who looked morally outraged this kid named Sleepy was bringing back the Warriors all by himself. Again and again, Floyd ran the Lakers' gauntlet. Again and again, he sank layups, some of them backhanded. And then he'd run back down the court, never smiling, his face grim, judgmental.

He'd had it with the Lakers, their celebrating, their trash talk. It was payback. He scored 29 points that fourth quarter. Still a Warriors record for points in a playoff quarter. Sank 12 field goals in the quarter. Still a Warriors playoff record. Scored 51 total.

At one point - I'll never forget - sweet-shooting forward Purvis Short, sitting on the bench, jumped up laughing, laughing his head off at how Floyd was wrecking the Lakers. Short laughed and threw his white towel on the floor and laughed some more at the pure joy of it all.

The Warriors won 129-121. It was the only game they won that series. That was a different era of Warriors teams - the mouse that roared.

A's times three, Oct. 17, 1974

It was Game 5 of the 1974 World Series, the final game. In front of 49,347 at the Oakland Coliseum, the A's beat the Dodgers 3-2. Johnny Lee “Blue Moon” Odom got the win, Rollie Fingers the save. By winning the Series, the A's had won three championships in a row and declared themselves one of the dominant teams in baseball history.

They were a raucous bunch, Charlie Finley's team, always fighting like enemies in the clubhouse, winning like allies on the field. Fingers and Odom got into a fistfight. No big deal. Fingers was the MVP of the Series. Remember his moustache.

Here is a partial roll call of players from that team, no explanations required. Fingers, Joe Rudi, Sal Bando, Vida Blue, Reggie Jackson, Odom, Bert Campanaris, Ken Holtzman, Gene Tenace, Ray Fosse.

Do they make teams like that anymore?

And the band played on, Nov. 20, 1982

It's called The Play. Just say “Stanford Band” and everyone knows what you're talking about. It is the most notorious and absolutely the greatest moment in the history of the whacky Stanford Band. And it's the most unique moment in Bay Area college football history.

It was the Big Game between Stanford and Cal. Led by John Elway in his last college game, the Cardinal took a 20-19 lead with a field goal, only four seconds remaining. Then it happens.

Cal's Kevin Moen fields the kickoff, a squib kick, laterals to Richard Rodgers, who tosses to Dwight Garner, who, as he's being tackled, pitches the ball back to Rodgers.

At this point, the Stanford Band enters history. Thinking Garner is down, the Band wanders onto the field celebrating. Meanwhile, Rodgers keeps going and pitches to Mariet Ford, who's running toward all 144 members of the band. At the 27-yard line, Ford throws a blind desperate lateral to Moen, who runs through the bewildered band into the end zone for the winning touchdown, taking out trombone player Gary Tyrrel, who becomes one of the most famous trombone players in the history of trombones. Cal wins 25-20.

Stanford still disputes The Play, claiming Garner was down and two of the laterals weren't so lateral. Could only have happened in Berkeley.

McCovey robbed, Oct. 16, 1962

The Giants had won their first National League pennant since moving to San Francisco in 1958. Now, it was Game 7 of the World Series between the Yankees and Giants. Attendance at then-new Candlestick Park was 43,948.

The Yankees had scratched out the only run of the game in the top of the fifth when Bill “Moose” Scowron scored from third on a double-play ball.

There the game stood tense and tight until the bottom of the ninth. Do or die for the great Giants. Matty Alou led off the inning against Yankees starter right-hander Ralph Terry, visibly tiring. Alou bunted for a single. Felipe Alou and Chuck Hiller struck out. Fate ringing a gong. The end near.

But, no.

Willie Mays - who else? - hit a scorching double to right field. Roger Maris in right, a great fielder, made a fast throw to cutoff man Bobby Richardson - he will reappear, and how. The Giants held Alou at third, a highly controversial decision to this day.

So, it's Alou on third, Mays on second. Yankees manager Ralph Houk walks to the mound, where he and Terry discuss whether to walk the next batter, lefty Willie McCovey, and pitch to righty Orlando Cepeda instead. Terry doesn't feel comfortable loading the bases.

And here comes McCovey filling up the batter's box, McCovey who had tripled against Terry his previous at-bat, a big high fly ball to center. And Terry throws McCovey a fastball as hard as he can and McCovey takes that big swing like hitting a piñata and, for a moment, time stops as the ball rockets off his bat and screams past the mound toward second baseman Richardson.

If the ball goes past Richardson or over his head, Alou and Mays score and the Giants win the World Series. And it's about to happen.

No. Richardson moves to his left, puts up his glove and catches the ball and the Series ends. Just like that. Over. It is among the most famous outs in baseball history, an awe-inspiring moment that still takes your breath away, that hit and that catch.

The Giants would not return to the World Series for 27 years, not win the Series until 48 years later.

Charles Schulz drew Charlie Brown mourning, “Why couldn't McCovey have hit the ball just three feet higher?”

Holliday pops up, Oct. 22, 2012

Game 7 between the San Francisco Giants and St. Louis Cardinals at AT&T Park, the deciding game in the National League Championship Series. Winner plays the Tigers in the World Series.

Just about everyone left the Giants for dead. St. Louis roared to a 3-1 lead in games. The Giants had faced elimination in Game 5 in St. Louis and resorted to Barry Zito, a nice guy who mostly had been a disappointment. He led the Giants to a 5-0 win, threw magic pitches at the hard-hitting Cards and dragged the Giants back into the series.

Cut to Game 7. The clincher game. Giants murder Cardinals. Matt Cain gets the win. Marco Scutaro gets named series MVP for his 14 hits, tying an LCS record, and for how he withstood Matt Holliday taking him out at second base in Game 2, Holliday barreling across the bag and nailing Scutaro's legs.

Now cut to the top of the ninth of Game 7. Two outs for the Cardinals with two on and Holliday up. Yes, that Holliday.

The dramatic moment. Sergio Romo pitching. Gets Holliday to pop up. To Scutaro, of course. It's raining like crazy, the big drops glistening in the ballpark lights. Scutaro waiting for Holliday's ball in the rain. Scutaro backpedaling toward the outfield grass. Scutaro raising his left hand. Just one hand. Gloved hand. Scutaro looking to the sky like someone looking for a sign. Scutaro catching the ball. Game over. Series over. All washed clean. San Francisco washed clean. The most poetic moment in that postseason.

The Giants would turn the Tigers into pussycats. Sweep.

Earthquake, Oct. 17, 1989

Shortly before the start of Game 3 of the World Series between the A's and Giants - at 5:04 p.m. - the Loma Prieta Earthquake struck. The upper deck of Candlestick Park, where I'm sitting in the auxiliary press box, starts lurching, lurches left and right. The big one. Magnitude 6.9. I stand up, deciding where to run. Rich Walcoff from KGO radio says, “Sit down, Lowell. If this place goes down we're both dead.”

The old place didn't collapse. On the field, I could see Giants and A's players mingling, looking scared. Jose Canseco comes to mind. In the press box someone said, “The Bay Bridge is down.”

The Bay Bridge is down? Well, parts of it sure fell down.

I drove home to Oakland across the Dumbarton Bridge. I recall almost total darkness, no street lights. Couldn't tell my wife I was OK because phone lines were out.

Commissioner Fay Vincent called off the game. The Series resumed on Oct. 27 and finished on Oct. 28, the A's winning in four.

My most unique memory from the earthquake: a well-known national sports commentator, looking as white as a piece of whitefish an hour after the quake, walked over to me and said, “Nice (expletive) city, Lowell.”

The Catch, Jan. 10, 1982

NFC championship game at Candlestick Park. The young, scrappy, unknown 49ers were down 27-21 to the Dallas Cowboys, America's team. The Niners got the ball at their own 11-yard line with 4:54 left in the game and relentlessly drove down the field.

With 58 seconds left, the 49ers had reached the Dallas 6-yard line. It was third-and-3. Bill Walsh called Sprint Right Option, now the most famous play ever inscribed in a 49ers playbook. It called for Joe Montana to sprint right and look for Freddie Solomon as his primary receiver, but if Solomon wasn't open, Montana would look for a receiver behind Solomon, usually Dwight Clark.

Solomon scored a TD on this very play earlier in the game. But as he ran his route this time, Solomon slipped on the grass, taking him out of the play. That left Clark, who was not even supposed to be on the field. When he learned the Niners were running Sprint Right Option, he ran onto the field and inserted himself into the action.

As Montana backpedaled and as Solomon slipped, three Cowboys defenders took off after Montana - Ed “Too Tall” Jones, Larry Bethea and D.D. Lewis. They chased Montana toward the sideline and it looked like they'd sack him or force him out of bounds. Montana pump-faked, getting Jones to jump. He threw a high pass toward the back of the end zone. Clark had run into the end zone and then cut to his left. As the high ball came toward him, he jumped, raised his arms high, caught the ball, fumbled it, and gathered it in near his waist.

According to Clark, Jones immediately said to Montana, “You just beat America's team.” To which Montana replied, “Well, you can sit at home with the rest of America and watch the Super Bowl.”

Some said the The Catch was just a lucky break, a blind heave to nowhere. Not so. Walsh made the team practice that play all the time. The 49ers' 28-27 victory ended the Cowboys' domination of the NFC West and announced the 49ers' dynasty was about to begin.

For more on the world of sports in general and the Bay Area in particular, go to the Cohn Zohn at cohn.blogs.pressdemocrat.com. You can reach Staff Columnist Lowell Cohn at lowell.cohn@pressdemocrat.com.