No trombone, but for Cal a win over Stanford

STANFORD — The band wasn’t on the field. But the football was. Or jn the other team’s hands after an interception.

This was the 124th Big Game, which was great and historic, if you’re interested in that stuff. But for the sporting world — especially for those beyond the bay — there only will be one memorable game.

That would be the one in 1982, when Cal won on that miraculous (poorly officiated, the Stanford people will argue) multi-lateral kickoff return, when announcer Joe Starkey gave what seems is the most incongruous call ever in college football: “The band is on the field!”

In this year’s matchup, there was nothing quite as interesting or debatable — did the knee of one Cal returner touch the ground before the end of the kickoff return that gave the Bears the 25-20 win?

Nothing that would get ESPN, which normally doesn’t pay attention to what happens out here in the West, to show rerun after rerun.

This Big Game, which Cal won 41-11 on a cool Saturday before 49,265 at Stanford Stadium, wasn’t quite that compelling. Or controversial.

Or even competitive. But how could it be? How could anything be?

At the end of that run, Cal’s Kevin Moen crashed into Stanford band member Gary Tyrrell, who along others in his group had marched onto field to celebrate.

Before the kickoff, Tyrrell was despised by Stanford types, who believed his presence in the end zone was a reflection of imperfection.

But over the years attitudes changed, even if the score didn’t.

Now a financial consultant, Tyrrell lives in Half Moon Bay and is involved with the Stanford program. “Rivals, and kindred spirits. Honor the game. Beat Cal,” he tweeted prior to Stanford failing to beat Cal.

The trombone is in the College Football Hall of Fame.

John Elway was the Stanford quarterback in that 1982 Big Game. The defeat cost him and the Cardinal a chance for the Rose Bowl. Tyrrell, meanwhile, got over the game quickly enough, doing public appearances with Moen, the guy who knocked him and his trombone for a loop.

“In getting to know Gary, I have found him to be a nice, diligent, normal guy,” said Moen, now a real estate broker in Rolling Hills Estates.

Elway needed years to forgive. At last he mellowed, after leading the Denver Broncos to Super Bowl victories, and conceded to Jackie Kretzman in a piece for Stanford Alumni Magazine, “It gets funnier as the years go along.”

There was nothing humorous for the referee, Charles Moffett, who was chased down by an outraged Paul Wiggin, the Stanford coach. But after conferring with the other officials, Moffett ruled that the TD counted.

“You would have thought I had started World War III,” said Moffett.

What “The Play” started was a sort of cottage industry. Cal would sell a gold T-shirt on which a diagram of the runners’ route and the final score was printed. The shirt has become a collectors’ item and still is sold.

Yes, I was there. Yes, I still have the T-shirt.

It was one of those sporting events that remind people in a stadium never to leave until the game is over. Which the late, great Art Rosenbaum, at the time sports editor of the San Francisco Chronicle, did unfortunately.

Stanford had kicked a field goal to go in front, and there were only seconds remaining.

But Cal took the subsequent kickoff, and every time it appeared a Bears runner would get tackled he flipped the ball backward or sideways until Moen crossed the goal — winning the game and denting a trombone.

Oh, if only that could have happened this time.