Ranking The Big Games Of The 2000s: #1 2002
[We are ranking the Big Games of the Aughts. So far, we have #10: 2007, #9: 2000, #8: 2001, #7: 2006, #6: 2003, #5: 2005, #4: 2004, #3: 2008, and #2: 2009. Now, SURPRISE! we have the best Big Game of the 2000s, 2002. Deal with it!]
Like some sort of Civil War post-battle tableau, plumed hats were strewn lifelessly across the Memorial Stadium field. Nobody cared. Our high step wasn't quite so high. Nobody cared. Nobody cared, because it was November 16, 2002. Nobody cared, because the date everybody had circled in their calendar, November 23, 2002, was a week away. Nobody cared, because the moment Cal fans had been waiting nearly two presidential terms for was just 7 measly days away.
It wasn't just the marching band that couldn't focus on November 16, 2002. Not even the team itself seemed as focused on November 16, 2002. On that day, the team ended up losing to Arizona 52-41. This was a Cal team that had been ranked earlier in the season after beating Michigan State on the road versus an Arizona team that was 0-7 in the Pac10. At home. 0-7 in the Pac10! An Arizona team so bad that coach John Mackovic nearly lost his job in a player insurrection after, well, you can read it for yourself:
Midway through the 2002 season, Mackovic told tight end Justin Levasseur that he was a disgrace to his family. This and other incidents led 40 players (including future Pro Bowler Lance Briggs) to hold a secret meeting with school president Peter Likins. The players complained about Mackovic's constant verbal abuse, such as an ugly tirade after a loss to Wisconsin.
You have to be either pretty bad or pretty unfocused to lose to a team like this. Considering the talent level and coaching ability of the 2002 team, I think it is pretty obvious that it is the latter. After the jump, let's take a closer look at the reason why nobody ever in the history of anything cared about the Cal v. Arizona game: The 2002 Big Game. GO BEARS!
You don't understand. You don't get it. If you are reading this, you are upset, because you think that 2009 should be the #1 game. Hell, 2004 might even be above 2002 in your book. Well, guess what! If there is one thing we don't care about here at the California Golden Blogs, it is the reader's opinion (just kidding.......sorta, ok, not really). And for us, well we put 2002 at the top. It changed everything, don't you understand. No, you don't.
via grfx.cstv.com
Most of our readership stems from fans in their early to mid 20s. Far more likely to curse the name J. Ayoob instead of J. Torchio. To them, beating Stanford is a standard Saturday afternoon with a small blip in one year that nobody can barely remember and really did it even count, I mean Kevin Riley never played a single snap, I mean c'mon! For people of my generation and older who have been following Cal at any time before, say, 2004, beating Stanford is a strenuous activity likened generally to climbing Mt. Everest, while carrying Mt. Kilimanjaro in your backpack.
Before the 2002 Big Game victory over Stanford, Cal had lost 7 straight times. 7! Seven! However you pronounce seven in Spanish (potentially seveno)! For all of Cal's Big Game success in the 2000s, we have yet to beat Stanford 7 times in a row. We did 5 in a row, but not 7. So, to you this might just be a boring game where the Standard Stanfraud Beatdown occurred.
via grfx.cstv.com
To fans who lived through at least 2 of those Big Game losses (especially 2000!), this was as cathartic a victory as you could ever find, outside of, say, the 2004 World Series. Us fans we needed this game, we yearned, oh how we yearned.
What happened in the game itself, you ask, while leafing aimlessly through New To Cal Monthly? WHO CARES!?!?!? What is this, some sort of sports-blog? Man, I dunno, Joey Joe Joe Shabado Igber ran for what seemed like 4,000 yards. Although Stanford scored first on a Teyo Johnson free throw or TD or home run or penalty kick or whatever sport he happened to be playing at that time, Cal was up big by half and never looked back. To an objective observer, it would have been fairly boring. To those of us in the stadium, it was a giant party that lasted for hours. And it wasn't just the fans having fun:
"We didn't want it to be dramatic. We didn't want a close game," Cal cornerback Nnamdi Asomugha said. "Just the fact that we won was drama enough. I've never seen the fans like that in here. The excitement was all over the building. I don't think we've ever had that at home."
via grfx.cstv.com
Yes, that Joe Igber. That Hawaii 5-0 loving Joe Igber. One of the most underrated backs in the Tedford era. A truly humble gentleman. Check this out:
Igber had the biggest rushing day in Big Game history, repeatedly slicing through Stanford's defense for huge gains on just 26 carries. Igber finished his Cal career with 3,124 yards, passing Chuck Muncie and Paul Jones to finish second in school history behind Russell White.
"People will forget about me in the next couple of months, but I did what I came here to do," Igber said. "We got the win. We got the Axe. That's all that matters."
That quote always strikes me as truly awesome and humble. This quote will bring a smile to even the oldest of the Old Blues:
Johnson caught five passes for 61 yards for Stanford, which ended its worst season since 1983 with a five-game losing streak that left the Cardinal in last place in the Pac-10. It was Stanford's worst offensive output in the Big Game since 1967.
via grfx.cstv.com
Look, I could go through the stats and the play by play and show some interesting stuff. Or I could just to my favorite part, perhaps my favorite memory ever as a Cal fan. Spoiler Alert: We had a lot of yards, they had a few. We ran well (like Joe Igber for 226 yards on the day!), they did not. Ok, favorite memory time! A few years ago (it's insane to me that we can count the amount of time on CGB and also on SBN in multiple years now), I did a post on the 2002 Big Game from a slightly different angle. It was that favorite Big Game memory. I will now quote liberally from that post:
With a few minutes left in the game, the fans started to sort of rush the field. They rushed the ground around the field, as it were. Slowly, but surely, the fans came out of the stands to surround the gamefield in anticipation of rushing the field, itself. As the time slowly clicked down towards zero, the field became illuminated in humanity. This great mass of drunken energy just thrashing about the sidelines, chomping at the bit to rush the field. Those of us in the band did become briefly concerned that we might have to forfeit if they rushed too early.
With about 7 seconds left in the game, Cal recovered a fumble, essentially sealing the game. I have the clearest memory of a shirtless man becoming incredibly agitated, if not also inebriated, at that point and just started running around the field of play as the Cal offense ran onto the field for 1 last down. But for the Cal offense, it was, ultimately, too late. The genie (i.e. shirtless drunken fool) was already out of the toothpaste bottle (uh, ok, keep metaphor separate in the future). That mass of drunken humanity streamed onto the field with a stunning alacrity. They paraded the axe, other fans, and even football players like Kyle Boller, Ravens backup QB of the future around the field on their shoulders.
A phlanx of yellow shirted guards took their positions at the goal post. In the past 7 years, when Cal lost, there had been occasions of Cal fans rushing the field and rioting. One year, they attacked the Stanford Tree and tore it to bits. Another year, they tore the *Stanford* goalposts up. Another year, they attempted to rush the field, but were met by a veritable SWAT team of police, who held the angry Cal students at bay.
This time, WE WERE NOT TO BE DENIED! We had waited so many years for this sweet nectar. It was OUR time. We were going to get those goalposts. Sorta! Cal fans managed to get to the North goal post. One student, who later got busted in this, because he was a student government senator, climbed atop the middle-bar of the goal post. When the students managed to pull the goal post over, he all of a sudden found himself dozens of feet in the air. A hushed grasp fell over the conglomeration of students as they feared he might fall and hurt himself. However, he slid down from the suddenly high middle post to the suddenly low side post to safety! And with that, a might cheer went up from the heroes of Shelbyville. They had banished the awful lemon tree forever, because it was haunted. Now, let's all celebrate with a cool glass of turnip juice.
Or something.
As for the South goal post, the army of yellow shirts stood strong. Now, maybe another school might have given up. Perchance USC students would have merely called in one of their butlers to handle the situation. But not the always resourceful Cal students. They carried the North goal post down to the South goal post, using it as a potential battering ram against the guards there. The guards, realizing who wanted it more, scattered and soon the South goal post was down, too! We're such problem solvers! Go us!
One of the goal posts was left in the stadium. The other was carried down Bancroft to Sproul Plaza, scratching innumerable cars along the way. Sure, destruction of private property is never great, but tell that to the fans, who RODE THE GOAL POST DOWN THE STREET. Which wasn't me, unfortunately. But, fortunately, in the Band, we marched the entire band all throughout the City of Berkeley stopping at innumerable places to play fight songs and cheer on the inevitable drunken rabbling rousing occuring nearby.
It was definitely a unique game at Cal and one that is unlikely to be repeated (mostly, because I hope we never, yknow, lose 7 years to Stanford again). It was for all the years of students who never saw the Axe in Berkeley. It was for all the fans, who had suffered through the 2000 Big Game, a really rough OT loss to Stanford. Sure, to the objective observer it was probably just a boring 30-7 victory of one mediocre team over another mediocre team. But that day in November 2002, there were no objective observers in Memorial Stadium.
Cal has had "bigger" victories in Memorial since then, beating teams like USC and Tennessee at home. But none of those carry the emotional panache and epic catharsis of Big Game 2002. It will remain in the pantheon of Cal victories, one of the finest games ever played. Go Bears!
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A journalistic first!
Usually, any sports article including the name “J Torchio” brings feelings of despair and futility, but this one left me warm and fuzzy.
Although, to be fair, let’s not forget the 1980 Big Game:
“Another quarterback injury enabled J Torchio, whose father, Lloyd, had scored a touchdown in the 1947 Big Game, to enjoy a spectacular afternoon. Rich Campbell had gone down in the seventh game of the year, and the Bears went to Torchio, a non-scholarship walk-on, against Stanford.
Torchio threw a 56-yard pass to set up Cal’s first touchdown. He later threw a touchdown pass and scored himself on a three-yard run, as Cal pulled off the 28-23 upset.”
Taz from Kappa Sig is said senator.
Kind of a douche in real life, but for one that day, a true Cal hero.
by NateLongshore on Jun 30, 2010 6:41 AM PDT reply actions 3 recs
Don't try to take away from Taz' moment in the sun.
Turbo in real life, but on that special day, he was, and will forever be, a LEGEND.
by NateLongshore on Jun 30, 2010 7:35 AM PDT up reply actions
Never knew the guy, but yes, a true American patriot!
CGB's Jimmy Carter
www.CaliforniaGoldenBlogs.com
I own 4 Big Games on dvd
I own 4 Big Games on dvd. 1982, 1994 (senior year), 2002, and 2009. I agree with the decision on this being #1. You can’t match the sea of humanity on the Cal sideline before the game is over for sheer Cal joy. On dvd you also get the added benefit of seeing Stanford senior football players crying on the sideline. In hindsight, it should have been the Stanford underclassmen crying on the sideline. At least the seniors were getting out of there.
btw, the game wasn’t as close as the score. We missed about 3 field goals and dropped 2 pick-sixes, including one by Asomugha.
by Dajo9 on Jun 30, 2010 8:21 AM PDT reply actions 2 recs
How do you get old Cal games on DVD?
I would love to purchase the entire 2004 season (my freshman year) and a bunch of the games with Marshawn, Desean and other going wild.
by Another Failed Tedford QB on Jun 30, 2010 10:48 AM PDT up reply actions
Cal DVD's
Go to bearinsider.com. Click on Forums/Chat. Find the News / Games / Features drawdown and go down until you find video exchange. They have an extensive library of Cal game dvd’s that can be purchased. Enjoy.
Regardless of any all-time ranking quibbles, this an awesome game. I remember following the goalposts (briefly) and band after the game while my grandfather (Class of ‘40) kept yelling “Go Bears!” to everyone. The sheer emotion that accompanied breaking the drought was like a sports-related New Year’s eve party plus the most tear-jerking moments in Olympic history times a gazillion. Good times!
Irate Toothmonger - Will get all up in your business for food
Flagged
For repeated and egregious misspellings of Stanfurd. Simply unacceptable.
Sounds like a good time, though. I had no idea.
by Scootie on Jun 30, 2010 9:15 AM PDT reply actions 1 recs
Brought chills to my body
Great write up for an unmatchable game… This game vanquished all the furdy demons that had built up for years… Finally the Bears won and the Axe could return home to Berkeley… You can’t top it in this decade…
"Remember the Maine! TO HELL WITH STANFORD!"
Regarding that AZ loss
…intersection of teams on opposite “emotional” roller coasters.
I recall the bowl ban was announced AFTER the AZ game to the public, but I theorize that the coaches, AD and team know about the bowl ban before the AZ game…hence an emotional let down.
AZ had just gone through an emotional time as well and were trying to bounce back and, from the looks of it, had some renewed focus, at least for the game against Cal.
This is how I rationalized the WTF feeling after the zona game.
Big Game was awesome though…complete domination over the lackluster furd.
As my sig says, my freshman year was the 1996 Mooch extravaganza. So that means, for all of you playing along, we had lost the Axe in 1995, so it wasn’t on campus when I got there, and then I was around for four successive gut punches. (And then the two when I was away from Berkeley.) Each of those games is its own special horror, but I won’t relive them now.
So in 2002, I got the letter from Berkeley that they’d accepted me for grad studies. In gleeful excitement to my mom, I said, “I get to go to Big Game again!”
And this was that first Big Game. After seven years of futility. After seven years of wondering if I’d ever see an Axe other than one furtive look on furd’s campus. After seven long years, the Axe was back — and I found myself in this state of numb joy I can’t describe.
Heck, even Rally Comm, which can be really pushy about the “we don’t rush the field representatives of the university blah blah blah” finally said, “Alright, if you take off your rugbies, you can go join the celebration.”
That’s what kind of game it was.
Member of the Lost Tribe of Mooch
I’ve followed Cal football since the 1970 Big Game (a last play win: a Ferragamo to Sweeney TD pass). Transfered to Cal – Fall quarter 1973. Attended the 1974-1975 (one of the best teams) seasons and a season ticket holder since 1977. I remember those bad 7 years! It got so bad after the Big Games that numerous on field fights broke out between the Cal students and furd. I remember hundreds / a couple thousand Cal students walking out of their seats and onto the Memorial stadium field heading over to the furd student section across the way with “kill-murder” in their eyes. Fights breaking out everywhere. It took quite awhile before the berkeley police and security forces to restore order. The next year at furd, the same thing happened. Only this time the high cyclone fences prevented more Cal students from taking the field. The 2 Institutions were “alarmed” by the escalating violence level. To “tone down” this anger, both administrations came up with the idea that both marching bands start the game “on the field” for the Star Spangled Banner – a token gesture of gamesmanship.
On top of this, add in the 0-10 winless at home 2001 season, Cal won the last game of the season at Rutgers, postponed due to 9-11 events. A new Cal football coach was hired at the beginning of 2002. The stage was set for the 2002 Big Game.
At the conclusion of this Big Game, I saw the pentup frustration of last years 2001 worst division 1 football team, 1-10 record and 7 years of futility just “explode in the shear joy of Victory”. Unbelievable ! The only other time I saw anything like this was the 1982 Big Game – Joe Kapp’s first season and the 5 man lateral on the last play of the game. This 2002 Big Game was the start of Cal football today and Coach Tedford’s current winning streak. No more “doom and gloom” attitude of the football team like in years past. Coach Tedford’s “positive” team attitude endures to this day. For the fans today that have known only of Cal’s success, please Thank an old blue for enduring the bad times.
Thanks…from a old Blue.
by rare bear on Jun 30, 2010 12:19 PM PDT up reply actions 4 recs
Great perspective rare bear!
Email: bearsnecessities@gmail.com
by Avinash Kunnath on Jun 30, 2010 12:28 PM PDT up reply actions
When I became a Blue.
I could write a novel about this game and all that it meant to my friends and I. But i’ll just say that this is when i became a true Cal fan.
You're not only wrong...
You also have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know the fancy HTML block quote stuff, so I’ll be old fashioned
“For people of my generation and older who have been following Cal at any time before, say, 2004, beating Stanford is a strenuous activity likened generally to climbing Mt. Everest, while carrying Mt. Kilimanjaro in your backpack. "
First, and to once again repeat myself, you’re absolutely wrong. I was a frosh in 2001. I knew about the streek of losses, and I was in Palo Alto when Boller threw the Hail Mary to tie at the end of the game and we lost. I watched a 5th year senior sit next to me and cry because he never saw Cal beat the ’Furd as a student. I knew what it was all about. I understood how much 2002 meant. But, it can be easily pointed out, an eighth loss wouldnt have been that much more painful than the 7th, on the margin (not saying they arent all devastating).
Second, your reference to struggle suggests that the reward is all the more brilliant at the end of a good struggle. Sure, you might frame 2002 as a struggle taking the better part of the decade, but, in the end, we were the high school senior going to a middle school and punching a kid in the face to take his lunch money. 2009 however was nothing of the sort.
2009 was everything that is great about the Big Game and Stanfurd v. Cal. Comebacks, see saw battles, great individual performances, gutsy performances, coaching fails.
Now contrast that to your post., which reads something like the following: This was awesome. We really sucked before. So this was awesome. Did I mention this was awesome? Do you know how bad we used to suck. This was reallly reallllllly awesome!
Just saying.
I was a frosh in 2001.
You’re young. You don’t understand.
I’m younger. I thought Torchio was a type of Italian dish!
Email: bearsnecessities@gmail.com
by Avinash Kunnath on Jun 30, 2010 1:14 PM PDT up reply actions
You’re just showing off with that blockquote.
And “You’re young and odnt understand” is the type of bullshit answer most bosses and parents give their kids when there is no well reasoned basis for what their saying.
or you still don’t understand. lol.
no cal bear? no care
by EchoOfSilence on Jun 30, 2010 1:34 PM PDT up reply actions
I’m your age. You still just don’t understand. 2002 Big Game was easily a much bigger victory for the program and for Cal fans than any other Big Game of the decade.
by Oski4Heisman on Jun 30, 2010 3:16 PM PDT up reply actions
Well Twist’s writing “style” aside… I think the greater outcome of this game was that a new breed of Cal football was coming… Sure the arlier games in the season said that too, but this was the Big Game, which had been an embarrassment for Cal for the better half the previous decade… Now that may not mean much to you, but it means a lot to many Cal fans out there…
I won’t give you the “young and don’t know any better” excuse, as I am in fact younger than you (though I have been going to games since infancy), but you have to understand beating Stanfurd was always (at least for me growing up w/ Cal football) the football that Lucy annually pulled away at the last second… Well, we finally kicked that ball in 2002, and have been kicking it ever since… And that’s why it deserves to be #1
"Remember the Maine! TO HELL WITH STANFORD!"
I knew about the streek of losses
Knowledge is not experience.
CGB's Jimmy Carter
www.CaliforniaGoldenBlogs.com
I think your post clearly highlights why two rational people can arrive at different conclusions: you’re both using different criteria to grade the game.
CalBeer’s criteria: good games must have “Comebacks, see saw battles, great individual performances, gutsy performances, coaching fails.”
TwistNHook’s criteria: good games need not have “Comebacks, see saw battles, great individual performances, gutsy performances, coaching fails.”
TwistNHook clearly takes a broader and more expansive position on what means to have a good game. He looks at the bigger picture. Stuff like: Did Cal end a horrible losing streak? Yes!
CalBeer takes a much narrower stance on the issue focusing solely on the game itself, and not its greater meaning. He’s probably more inclined to think something like: Ending a losing streak doesn’t really matter! I just want to see an exciting high quality game!
Either stance is correct, and thus I wouldn’t necessarily say that TwistNHook has no idea what he’s talking about, nor that he’s “absolutely wrong,” but I do think that the majority of Cal fans probably fall into TwistNHook’s camp because they are more likely to look at the broader picture. Certainly, the quality of the 2009 Big Game may trump the 2002 Big Game, but the meaning does not.
www.californiagoldenblogs.com
If you had told me in November of 2001, when Cal was 0-10 in the midst of the Holmoecaust, Kyle Boller had gone from “jesus in cleats” to the laughingstock of the entire school, and the student section made signs out of card-stunts spelling “boller sucks,” that Kyle Boller would be carried off the field of Memorial Stadium by his fellow students after winning the Big Game, well let’s just say that I’d ask to smoke whatever you were having.
Whenever I hear anyone complain about a season where we win in LA, win the Big Game, and go to a bowl game, I remember this moment. God bless you, Jeff Tedford.
I was at Cal from 1996-2001
This was, by far, the greatest Big Game since my arrival in Berkeley.
Of course, while I was still living in the Bay Area, my family decided to have Thanksgiving a week early that year, and even worse, we would be at some park doing family photos while the game was going on. I had to keep track of the game through my archaic LCD screen cell phone. I have no qualms admitting that I shed a tear or two when I realized we would actually win.
CalBeer and others, you’re entitled to your opinion, but just being a frosh in 2001 doesn’t mean a whole lot. From November 2, 1996 (Cal’s last win under Mariucci) to November 23, 2002, Cal football was the Bataan death march. Coaches defecting, horrible coaches not getting the axe, scandals (Mike Ainsworth and Ronnie Davenport), and always, always at the end of the year, another loss to Stanford. You can’t comprehend how starved for success we were, and how desperately we wanted to finally beat Stanford. Sure, you were a frosh in 2001, that’s nice. You got to see a winning team while you were in college. We never did.
When
I understand.
I came in the same time as katster, 1996. Mooch was new, and so were we. He gave us hope as bright-eyed, bushy-tailed freshman, and he gave us a good year and a bowl berth (even though we lost). Our first taste of pain was when Mariucci couldn’t bring us to a Big Game victory (the legendary mob madness afterward made up for it though). The second, and WORST, pain he brought was when he unceremoniously left us for the Niners. He told he’d be there for a long time – and then he was gone after one season. So they brought in… Tom Holmoe.
Aside from some very strong defensive teams, the Holmoecaust was wretchedly painful. Some may have heard about it, but the experience was just heart-and-gut-wrenching. Rare wins, and even one where defense/special teams scored all the points. Painful losses. Ineptitude. Sorrow. Big Game loss after Big Game loss after heartbreaking Big Game loss. The crushing defeat of the 2000 Big Game, the first overtime game in Big Game history. The seasons were so bad, we (students) literally didn’t care about winning any other game except the Big Game – and we couldn’t even do that! Hell, a lot of us wished we’d lost the game to Rutgers in ’01, so we could have something interesting (i.e. a winless season) to talk about.
Then came 2002. Tedford turned this thing around 540 degrees. The Baylor game knocked everyone’s socks off, and that season was just unbelieveable to those of us who had known nothing but pain. But the biggest Big Game in a looong time still loomed….
When that clock hit 0:00, I rushed our home field for the first time since 1996. There was so much Joy. Euphoria. The emotional release of my entire college football life coming to its peak. All the sorrow was washed away in a tidal wave of blue and gold. I don’t have the ability to properly convey what an amazing, emotional moment that was. To finally have a Big Game win. To finally understand what that display case in the student union building was for. To be able to walk on campus, every day, and see the Axe sitting in its rightful home.
Right after the game, my friends and I didn’t go to a local bar. We didn’t go home to start celebrating. We went to Tahoe.
That’s how important this win was. No plans, no reservations, nothing – we just hopped in the car and went because one of us thought we should. We gambled and celebrated til 3am and drove straight home.
CGB: Wasting Your Potential, Your Time, & Your Life Since 2006.
by BearStage on Jun 30, 2010 5:32 PM PDT reply actions 4 recs
Rec’d so hard.
Right after the game, my friends and I didn’t go to a local bar. We didn’t go home to start celebrating. We went to Tahoe.
That’s how important this win was. No plans, no reservations, nothing – we just hopped in the car and went because one of us thought we should. We gambled and celebrated til 3am and drove straight home.
That’s such a cool sentiment, and a great example of what this Big Game meant to so many.
The #1 greatest threat to America: BEARS
I agree. Awesome story.
My favorite part:
There was so much Joy. Euphoria. The emotional release of my entire college football life coming to its peak. All the sorrow was washed away in a tidal wave of blue and gold. I don’t have the ability to properly convey what an amazing, emotional moment that was. To finally have a Big Game win. To finally understand what that display case in the student union building was for. To be able to walk on campus, every day, and see the Axe sitting in its rightful home.
Can’t say it any better than that!
Irate Toothmonger - Will get all up in your business for food
The Calies...
Don’t you realize? The next time you see sky, it’ll be over another town. The next time you take a test, it’ll be in some other school. Our parents, they want the best of stuff for us. But right now, they got to do what’s right for them. Because it’s their time. Their time! Up there! Down here, it’s our time. It’s our time down here. That’s all over the second we ride up Troy’s bucket.

Cal, the Mikey of the P-10.
Great post, BTW. I love these things. Nostalgia is one of the best things about sports.
Great write up
It makes me understand how a rational, intelligent Cal fan can place 2002 above 2009 in the annals of great Big Games. I’m not fully convinced — I think the 2009 Big Game is the best of my Cal fandom life — but if I had been in attendance in 2002, perhaps I’d be singing a different tune.
I was a student from 1988 to 1992. I have watched 20 of the 22 Big Games that have been played since 1988, attending 10 of them in person. Of those 10 I’ve watched in person, I have witnessed Cal win once. ONCE. One fucking time.
Of the ones I’ve watched in person, there have been some gut punchers. In fact, ou could probably describe just about all of them that way. There was the infamous tie in 1988, my first Big Game; there was the snatching of defeat from the jaws of victory in 1990, when we were sure we’d win; there was the unceremonious Vardelling in 1991, when we were again sure we’d win (so sure of it that the Cal band infamously played Palms Of Victory at the bonfire rally, angering the Juju. DOH!); there were the 1992 and 1996 debacles when it was unclear whether our team realized there was a game to play; there was the 1995 loss on the farm where Cal’s momentum for an improbable comeback win was thwarted by a Tony G fumble that shouldn’t have been ruled a fumble; there was the 1997 one-point loss in the 100th Big Game; and, in the last Big Game I attended in person, there was the glorious Cal comeback in the 4th quarter that turned into a kick in the groin overtime loss.
All in all, I’ve had my share of heartbreak in the Big Game. Before Jeff Tedford came along, I had experienced winless streaks of 6 games and 7 games as a Cal fan, getting to enjoy only 2 wins (1993 and 1994). So if I had been in the stadium on November 23, 2002, I imagine I would have felt the catharsis and participated in the field rushing, goalposting buffoonery. Alas, I was in Ohio at the time and celebrated joyfully with CALumbus Bear, Mrs. CALumbus Bear, and another Cal alum who happened to be living in Ohio at that time. The streak was over and we drank to that. We were happy to finally have our beloved alma claim ownership of The Axe.
Since I wasn’t at the game, however, I don’t have the “real life” feel of what that win must have been like in person. I can say that I can imagine what it was like, but let’s face it — I really can’t. Only those of you who were there to experience it — specifically, those who were there and who also experienced the frustrating futility that the rivalry had become before that — really know what it was like. And if that personal experience puts 2002 above 2009 in your view, so be it. I guess I really can’t quarrel with that.
For me, it’s still 2009. Despite our win against Arizona the previous week, we were in no position to be genuinely optimistic about victory. We were in a daze about the season that had slipped away, and dreading the prospect of having to watch our much maligned defense take on the likes of Heisman candidate Toby Gerhart and hotshot “next great Pac-10 QB” Andrew Luck. I mean, really: did we have any business expecting that we’d win? My heart told me yes; my head told me no. Yet, we did.
But no more talk about 2009, at least not on in this comment on this thread. 2002 was the cathartic start of something grand.
Yes, I am an Old Blue. Now get off my lawn.
New Old Blues
I came here linked from the Pac-10 Blog on ESPN.com.
I went to my 1st Cal game when I was in 5th grade. Craig Morton was the QB at the time. I attended Cal in the 70’s when there were a slew of QB hits and misses.
It was 2009 before I witnessed with my own eyes, Cal defeating UCLA. Losing to Snodfart 7 times in a row. Jeez people, we lost to LA for over 20 years!
I find the barking about Torchio amusing, at least you NOBs can speak his name. From my time remains the QB who’s name shall not be uttered.
Have a wonderful summer.

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