Woody and a Rose Bowl in the rain

PASADENA, Calif. — You know the song: “It Never Rains in Southern California — It Pours.” Written by a guy named Albert Hammond about not being able to find work in the movie business.

Could have been about the 1955 Rose Bowl game.

No question, the weather this time of year in SoCal is spectacular. For the most part, it’s blue skies. Chamber of Commerce stuff.

But as the lyrics of another song go, into each life (and region) some rain must fall — the “region” line is my own personal addition, because it was raining here on Thursday as far as the eye could see.

That was also the case more than 60 years ago for the event with the copyrighted nickname, “Grandaddy of Them All.”

The label was created by the good people around here because they believed the Rose Bowl, in a way responsible for the multitude of postseason college football matchups, was being pushed out of the headlines by lesser games.

But on that New Year’s Day, that afternoon in ’55, the Rose Bowl received attention it never wanted.

For the first time since 1934 and the last time ever — not counting some fourth-quarter heavy mist in 1996 — it rained on the Rose Bowl.

What a literal mess on the field. What a virtual stink caused by Woody Hayes.

He was a grumpy, demanding, un-merry old soul who coached Ohio State — which, interestingly enough, will play Utah on Saturday in the 2022 Rose Bowl.

In ’55 Hayes and Ohio State would beat USC, 20-7, but Woody was displeased because the Trojan band had been allowed to march at halftime on turf already soggy, thereby transforming the Buckeye attack to three yards and a clod of mud.

That was only one of the controversies for what, you should excuse the term, became a quagmire of a game.

USC shouldn’t even have played. UCLA not only was the No. 1 team in the land in the UPI poll but also the undefeated champion of the Pacific Coast Conference, from which the West Coast team in the Bowl normally would be chosen.

But the PCC had a no-repeat rule. UCLA had played (and lost to) Michigan State in the 1954 Rose Bowl. Thus USC got the call.

That game was our first formal introduction to Woody, who the late Jim Murray once said was graceless in victory, graceless in defeat. Hayes once punched Los Angeles Times photographer Art Rogers when Rogers, doing his job, aimed a camera at Hayes.

My job at the Rose Bowl, before I became a journalist, was to peddle programs. The first Rose Bowl game I worked, 1954, I ended up with $10 and, because the goal posts were made of wood and people could swarm the field, a few memorable slivers. I was in high school and thrilled.

But one year later, everything was different. Before that 1955 game, the heavens opened up around 10:30 in the morning. I was unprepared. So was everyone else.

The usual 100,000 tickets had been sold (at $15 each, if I recall), but attendance was around 89,000. As I slogged through the stadium trying to sell before the game started, a spectator stopped me and asked if I wanted to buy a ticket for 25 cents. No thanks.

I was wearing one of those high school letterman-type jackets, blue with fake leather sleeves over a required white dress shirt.

By the time I left, the shirt was blue from the jacket color leaking. I had earned $1.25. Happy New Year. Glub.

John Madden was different because he was ordinary

So here was this sports columnist sitting in a lineup of cars trying to get to the Bay Bridge toll plaza. And three lanes to his right, there’s a guy repeatedly honking his horn for apparently no reason.

The columnist finally looks over, and it’s John Madden, waving and laughing. He had seen me as we drove west from Oakland to San Francisco. No pretension, just joy.

Madden, who died Tuesday at 85, was special because he was ordinary, at least away from the field, a size extra-large blend of curiosity and commentary.

He knew the game of football, winning Super Bowl XI as coach of the Oakland Raiders. He also understood the game of life: Be friendly as much as possible.

He was born in Minnesota but virtually was a Northern Californian, growing up in Daly City, graduating from Cal Poly San Luis Obispo and eventually ending up in the East Bay community of Pleasanton — where, in the manner of the pioneers, he grabbed vacant fields that quickly enough became valuable property.

John could be demanding. There are stories about his impatience with others in broadcasting. Yet most of all, in person or behind a microphone, he made you feel good.

I was the Raiders beat man for the San Francisco Chronicle for a while in the early 1970s, and he didn’t always like what I wrote — which didn’t make him unusual in the profession.

What did make him unusual was the way he responded. Some coaches claim they never read the papers. Madden would come at me after practice, waving the Chron sports page.

Then he would sit me down and explain what was wrong, so I wouldn’t make the same mistake again. An education. 

In those days, the Raiders took the writers on their charters for road trips, the better for the papers to save travel expenses. As soon as the flight was in the air and the seat belt sign was off, Madden would stand up and march to the front or rear of the aircraft.

As we learned, Madden disliked flying. After he left Cal Poly, a football team charter crashed in 1960. Numerous players, friends of Madden, died. The accident haunted him.

He also was claustrophobic, feeling trapped in a silver capsule, and as soon as he left the Raiders for broadcasting, Madden switched first to a train and then a bus — the Madden Cruiser.

He was adept at describing the quarterback draw — his signature remark after a big gain was empathic and brief: “Boom.”

He fit in everywhere and with everyone, working TV with Pat Summerall and then Al Michaels; getting off the bus at stops in various places and dining and chatting with the locals.

His daily show on the San Francisco radio station KCBS offered Madden at his eclectic best, moving from sports to food to weather to geography.

Once, relating to rivers, Madden said he was uncertain about the word “confluence,” as to the linking of the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers to form the Ohio River in Pittsburgh. “So, that’s a confluence,” he repeated, having as much fun as the listeners.

John Robinson was Madden’s pal from their days as kids and teenagers in Daly City. They were both football people — Robinson became head coach at USC and later the Rams.

“We’d go to an ice cream store,” Madden remembered of their boyhood. “I’d buy a cone, and he’d always take a bite; to stop him I’d lick the whole thing, but John Robinson would eat it anyway. He was different.”

So was John Madden. John, that will be me honking in salute the next time I cross the Bay Bridge.

Is Garoppolo just another Steve DeBerg?

An individual who has followed the 49ers for years has an idea about Jimmy Garoppolo: “He reminds me of Steve DeBerg,” said the individual.

For those unfamiliar with DeBerg, that’s not exactly high praise. Or complete disparagement.

DeBerg had a lengthy career in the NFL, three years of which (1978-80) he spent with the 49ers at the start of the Bill Walsh era, which began in 1979.

The Niners would move the ball, and then in a critical situation DeBerg would be intercepted. He invariably made the big mistake.

As Garoppolo did Thursday night when San Francisco couldn’t hold on to a 10-0 halftime lead and was beaten 20-17 by the Tennessee Titans. 

Jimmy G threw a couple of interceptions, one from Tennessee’s 8-yard line in the first period, and also missed an open man in the end zone in the second half. And while the defense, the Niners’ strength, could be faulted, the quarterback’s failures were inescapable.

“I thought we should have been up more, that was for sure,” was the assessment of head coach Kyle Shanahan. “I thought we could have got three scores with those drives. We didn’t.”

Not with Garoppolo missing receivers or, worst of all, throwing when nobody was open and no worse than a field goal assured — unless the other team gets the ball.

Which it did to halt two of the chances.

So maybe it’s unfair in a team sport in which offense, defense and special teams are involved. But one man has the ball and decides what he’s going to do with it.

“We were rolling early on,” said Garoppolo, “and in the middle just kind of got a little sluggish. It’s tough when you let a win like this slip away.”   

Tougher when literally you throw it away.

Turnovers are killers at every level of football. The Niners had two, the interceptions, the Titans zero.

The Niners are 8-7 this season and still in the wild-card chase. But they are 1-6 when Garoppolo throws at least one interception, as opposed to 7-0 when he doesn’t have one.

Jimmy G was the quarterback for a Niners team in a Super Bowl, something DeBerg was unable to accomplish. Yet the Patriots traded Garoppolo to San Francisco when he seemed to be the heir apparent to Tom Brady.

One wonders if Patriots coach Bill Belichick sensed a deficiency.

The future of Garoppolo’s career with the Niners is a mystery. The Niners traded three first-round selections to Miami for the right to make the pick in April that brought them quarterback Trey Lance.

Shanahan and his staff determined Garoppolo this year would be more efficient than a rookie, no matter how qualified and regarded Lance might be.

That followed the Bill Walsh philosophy. He suffered through the DeBerg seasons while Joe Montana was getting acclimated and confident.

A week ago, Garoppolo was exactly what he needed to be, the Niners winning at Cincinnati. Four days later, he was a quarterback who put his team in distress.

This Sunday, San Francisco has a bye, a time perhaps to reflect and second-guess. The season continues with a home game against the woeful Texans and then one at L.A. against the Rams.  

The presumption is Garoppolo will start at quarterback in both. And that he’ll play well enough to get his team to the postseason.

Then probably, Trey Lance takes over.

But who knows how good Lance might be — the next Tom Brady or the next Jimmy Garoppolo, who was supposed to take over for Brady but never did?

Tour surrenders AT&T golf to Saudi event

So the PGA Tour surrendered, although no one involved would use that term. Maybe “gave in to reality” is more accurate.

Realized the big names always get their way, so why not give them what they want and avoid a conflict in what was once called the gentleman’s game.

The winners, among others, are Phil Mickelson, Bryson DeChambeau, Dustin Johnson and the Saudi International tournament.

The losers are the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am, CBS television and the restaurants and shops on the Monterey Peninsula.

The AT&T, which started as the Bing Crosby Pro-Am, has been around for more than 80 years. It’s a traditional stop on Tour. But tradition has no chance when matched against oil sheiks.

They created a tournament that the Asian Tour chose to endorse after the former European Tour (it’s been re-named the DP World Tour) stepped away. It is held at Royal Greens Golf Club near Jeddah and offers a huge purse and appearance fees.

That both events are to be staged in the first week in February makes for a difficult situation. Let’s go to the past tense — made for a difficult situation.

When a Tour player wants to enter an event opposite one on the Tour schedule, he must receive approval — and agree to stipulations for the future.  

On Monday, Saudi officials sent a media release mentioning they had commitments from 11 major champions. Golf Digest asked who would blink first. We found out quickly enough.

It was the Tour. When the AT&T does get underway, they should put white flags in the cups.

Yes, I know the players are “independent contractors” and go where the money is, and I also know that in personality-driven sports such as golf (Tiger Woods, Mickelson) and tennis (Rafael Nadal, Serena Williams) the stars have leverage.

But they built their reputations and bank accounts in tournaments that enabled them to learn and improve. And earn.

The AT&T may offer celebrities and wonderful courses deep in the forest or along the bay, but it’s golf competition, and you want the top players, the ones who drive up attendance and TV ratings as well as drive a ball 330 yards down a fairway.

Long ago, when I tended to write about Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus, even if they weren’t on the leader board or in the field, a golf official suggested I focus on the little-known players, to let people know who they were.

But that infamous headline, “Unknown wins Crosby,” will get only shrugs. ESPN, for better or worse, figured it out: Names are more important than games.

It didn’t matter that Tiger before the accident was 10 shots behind. To ESPN he was the story, often the only story.

You know that over the weekend Woods and his 12-year-old son, Charlie, played in the PNC father-son tournament. There were stories and videos from here to St. Andrews. Wow!

Tiger hasn’t been in the ATT for a while, but Mickelson and Dustin Johnson not only were there but more than once finished first. This coming February, however, they’ll be in Saudi Arabia.

The longtime tournament director of the AT&T, Steve John, has to be diplomatic and measured in any criticism. He’s not going to whine about players he hopes will be back in coming years.

"We are still focused on the many highlights of our tournament week," John told James Raia in the Monterey Herald. "We will be messaging that we will eclipse the $200 million milestone in supporting deserving non-profits in and around our community."

“We have received overwhelming community support from fans showing how eager they are to see their favorite celebrities.”

Good, but Phil Mickelson or Dustin Johnson wouldn’t hurt. In fact, they would help.

Steph brings out the best in sports

This was sport at its best, a record, respect, appreciation, sharing. It was perfect timing in an imperfect world.

This was as good as it gets on the night Steph Curry got a place in history, along with an outpouring of praise from those who perhaps best understand what he has accomplished: others who play basketball at the highest level.

Tweets from so many, including LeBron James.

Curry literally was moved to tears as he considered what he had achieved, even though breaking the NBA record for career 3-point baskets had reached the point of inevitability.

He knew he was going to do it. We knew he was going to do it. He did it Tuesday night on arguably the game’s grandest stage, Madison Square Garden in New York City.

If you can make it there, the lyrics tell us, you can make it anywhere.

What Curry made at the 7:33 mark of the first quarter of the Warriors 105-96 win over the Knicks was the 3-pointer that would surpass Ray Allen’s mark of 2,973.

Before the game ended, among his total 22 points, Curry would make three more 3s, adding to a number that will grow as long as Steph keeps playing and shooting — and the contract for the 33-year-old lasts another three and a half seasons.

“I hope to push the record a long way,” said Curry.

Warriors coach Steve Kerr, an excellent long-range gunner long ago, admiring the post-game celebrations, again reminded how much Steph had affected basketball.

“There were 82 3-pointers taken (Tuesday),” Kerr said. “So, on a night when he broke the record, the sum of both teams’ 3-point attempts was kind of a testament to Steph’s impact on the league.

“It’s a different game now, obviously. But Steph made it a different game.”

After Reggie Miller, who was broadcasting the game for TBS, and Allen, who was in the building, made their contributions, Reggie holding the record until Allen grabbed it.

The two were thrilled to be part of an evening that in a way was as much theirs as Steph’s.

“Reggie came up to Boston to cheer me on,” said Allen, who was with the Celtics. “As Steph got closer to the record, I told myself I had to find a way to be there.”

So he was, along with Curry’s parents — his father, Dell, played in the NBA — a few coaches and friends, and a Garden crowd of 19,000, some of which paid prices inflated by the importance of the event.

“When I came in the league,” said Curry, as a matter of fact and not pretension, ”I watched things like this happening. Now 11 years later, I’m the one.”

Indeed, the one who has brought attention to the Bay Area as well as himself. In an activity too full of bitterness and criticism, egotism unfettered, Curry seems universally loved.

He plays basketball beautifully and joyfully. As well as successfully.

“He’s great at the one skill every player wants to be great at,” Tim Legler, a very competent shooter himself, said on ESPN. “Steph has redefined shooting. The things he does to get open are incredibly difficult. He makes it look easy.”

Although Kerr thought he had prepared himself for the basket that would make Steph the record holder, he was awed by the reaction after it took place.

“The moment was spectacular,” Kerr said. “The aftermath was more emotional than I expected it to be. It was just an outpouring of love and appreciation for Steph from seemingly everyone in the building. Beautiful, beautiful.“

As are the gifts that ESPN reported Curry gave long-time teammates Draymond Green and Andre Iguodala for their support — Rolex watches.

Time pieces from a man whose play is timeless.

Down the stretch, Garoppolo performed like Montana

Agreed, he’s not Joe Montana. But the way Jimmy Garoppolo performed down the stretch Sunday, completing passes, leading the Niners from behind in overtime to a victory, was — dare we say — very reminiscent of Joe.

Jimmy G. won a game the San Francisco 49ers very much needed, a game it seemed they had let slip away and then wrenched back from the Cincinnati Bengals on the road.

He wasn’t alone. Joe Montana wasn’t alone. Tom Brady isn’t alone. John Elway wasn’t alone. Football is a team game, and a game of ebbs and flows, when the opportunity must be grabbed or it will lay groaning as a painful memory.

The memory of the Niners’ 26-23 victory on Sunday touches back to the good old days of comebacks and championships, of making the right calls and the right plays.

That in the great scheme of this NFL season the game may turn out to be insignificant doesn’t matter. When the oft-criticized Garoppolo had to get a win, he got it, in conjunction with Deebo Samuel and Nick Bosa and Brandon Aiyuk — and certainly and demonstratively, the amazing George Kittle.

There, late in the afternoon at Cincinnati, were the erratic Niners, failing to take the game when Robbie Gould’s 43-yard field goal try at the end of regulation was wide; quickly behind, 23-20, when the Bengals made their own 3-pointer; pulling it out when, with virtually no time remaining, Aiyuk shoved the ball over the goal line as he flew into space.

It wasn’t beautiful, but it was successful. The saying in golf is applicable, “It ain’t how, it’s how many.” There’s no judging of form, just a display of the final score.

As a relieved Niners coach, Kyle Shanahan, conceded. 

Garoppolo botched things a week ago against Seattle, and there were other games when he couldn’t bring it home (even after the win, San Francisco is just 7-6, although very much a wild card possibility). 

This time with plenty of assistance from the offensive line, the receivers and the game plan, Garoppolo hit one pass after another. Or handed off to Samuel or Jeff Wilson. There was a sense of purpose and feeling of confidence.

“We kept saying that we’ve been in this situation before,” Garoppolo explained about the drive. “No one blinked. Guys knew that we had been here before, and we’ve done this before.”

True, but until you do it correctly, pulling out a game that seemingly was lost, it’s just rehearsal.

“We’ve just got to do this game,” said Garoppolo.

They did in no small part due to Kittle, the tight end who snares passes, batters potential tacklers and just generally makes the 49ers formidable and fearsome.

“That dude is the one Shanahan describe as a violent blocker and violent receiver” Aiyuk said of Kittle. “Not a bad combination. That dude is special.“

Kittle would just as soon hit possible defenders as catch a football, a trend coaches find perfect for a tight end, not that George shies away from getting a ball in his hands.

Against the Bengals, Kittle caught 13 passes for 151 yards, a touchdown and two first downs on third-down situations. “When you have a guy like him, you lean on him,” said Garoppolo.

If you didn’t, you’d better get a new job. Back when the Niners had Jerry Rice, and failed to target him, John Madden would growl, “He’s your best weapon. He needs the ball.”

What the 49ers needed was this victory, achieved in part because Cincy fumbled away two first-quarter punts and in part because Jimmy Garoppolo did what a 49er quarterback is expected to do.

Win the game the way Joe Montana used to do.

Steph lets his shots do the talking

Steph Curry was missing. Not with his shots. From the scene.

This was on Wednesday night, and as we all know — especially the guys at ESPN, who control our sports perceptions — only two people count in the NBA: Steph and that LeBron James guy.

LeBron, after helping the Lakers beat the Celtics, stood at a microphone and said, “I just like the way we competed tonight on both sides of the ball. A lot of intensity.”

Nothing to be etched in stone, but at least more than we heard from Curry.

Which was nothing.

Maybe Steph was trying to allow his teammates to get the attention after a 104-94 win over the troubled Portland Trail Blazers. Or maybe he was just weary from answering questions about the record he’s about to break.

You know the one, the lifetime total for 3-point baskets. For another few hours — or if Curry is off when the Warriors begin their road trip at Philly on Saturday, another few days — that record is 2,973, held by Ray Allen, who retired after the 2012-13 season.

Should we be excited about Steph’s quest? Indeed. He now is only nine threes short of tying Allen.

But unless the NBA is going to shut down tomorrow, Curry’s record is going to grow and grow. And grow. 

He has miles to go and many shots to make. The man is 33, and assuming he plays two seasons after this one — hey, LeBron will be 37 in a couple of weeks and he’s still rolling — Steph ought to put the record not only out of reach but beyond our imagination. He might hit another 200 of those long-range shots.

Not that teammate Draymond Green believes Curry will retain the record, once he sets it.

“Most people, especially in the analytical department, didn't think Steph Curry shot enough threes,” Green told NBC Bay Area Sports. 

“To this day, they still don't think Steph Curry shoots enough threes. That just goes to show you where the game is going and why his record will be broken probably within five to six years of him playing the game."

Who knows? What everyone does know is Curry helped remake the sport. Kids who wanted to dunk now just as often want to score from beyond the arc, which in the NBA is painted at 23 feet 9 inches.

"It totally changed the way the game is played,” said Green, “just by the way Steph Curry and Klay Thompson have been playing the game all this time.”

What Curry should be celebrated for is his accuracy and consistency. Along with his showmanship. Dribbling two basketballs in practice and connecting on those 35-foot baskets in pre-game warmups are fan favorites.

The eternal saying is that basketball is a team game, and while that’s true — hit the open man, switch while caught behind a screen on defense — it’s the individuals who make the game the joy it is.

The movie industry figured out a century ago that stars sold tickets. You didn’t need Shakespeare if Marilyn Monroe or Humphrey Bogart were on the marquee. In the NBA, what matters is who’s on the court — LeBron or Kevin Durant or, yes, Steph Curry.

As much as we love to watch them, others love to play with them — in effect sharing their success as well as adding to it. The other Warriors are well aware of the chase, at Chase Center and other locations, of a record.

“The vibe is still good,” said the Warriors’ Otto Porter Jr. “We are trying to figure out how to win playing Warriors basketball. We are trying to get good looks cutting off him. Steph is playmaking whether he is on or off the ball.”

Mostly when he shoots, he is on target.

Warriors soldier on after loss to Spurs

SAN FRANCISCO — They’re at it again Monday night. No time to rue. No time to relax. “This is how the NBA works,” said Steve Kerr.

He went through it as a player. Now he’s going through it as coach of the Warriors.

An impressive victory over the Suns on Friday night; a gloomy loss to San Antonio despite a comeback Saturday night; a day off Sunday for what little rest is possible, and here come the Orlando Magic, a third game in four nights.

Maybe Steph Curry will have recovered. “It looked to me like fatigue,” Kerr said of Curry missing 21 of his 28 shots. Probably the Warriors won’t fall behind by 22 points. We’ll find out out soon enough.

What we should have known is the season is destined to be a grind, although it’s doubtful there will be many games like Saturday night’s at Chase Center, when the Dubs were out of it, then worked back into it and took a 5-point lead before losing to the Spurs, 112-107.

Kerr couldn’t say much except he was proud of his team. “We’ve got a bunch of competitors,” was the affirmation.

But isn’t everybody in the NBA — except the Oklahoma City Thunder, who lost a game last week by a record 73 points?

Highly paid athletes may stumble, but they don’t quit. 

It was a rigorous weekend for the Dubs, beginning with an important victory over a Suns team that had won 18 straight.

“We don’t have to win it,” Kerr said in response to a question about that necessary victory. “It’s an 82-game season, and we didn’t have to win (Friday) night. It’s the body of work that counts.”

If you’re looking for perspective, that is. Still, it’s each individual game that matters, against the particular opponent or in the standings. And when the time comes in spring for the playoffs.

The psychology of success — or failure — is not to be overlooked. You beat a team often enough, and you’ll know you can do it in the postseason. So will they. 

The elephant missing from this room, certainly, is Klay Thompson, who may return in a couple weeks from the consecutive leg and foot injuries that have kept in from NBA competition since June 2019.

He not only scores, he enables Curry to score and plays outstanding defense. Or did. Surely the thought of a healthy, helpful Thompson allows Kerr a degree of serenity.

Yet even without Klay and with an understandably weary Steph (he was 7-of-28 for 27 points Saturday), the Warriors have gone 19-4.

“There are nights when things are stacked against you, in terms of the schedule,” Kerr pointed out, referring to back-to-back games that involved the Suns against the Warriors and then, a night later, the Warriors against the Spurs.

“When Phoenix played us (Friday), they probably got in (to San Francisco) around 3 a.m. That’s all part of being in the league. It’s going through scheduling stuff and trying to find the energy to win. (Saturday) it looked to me like our whole team, not just Steph, was a step behind. We’ll bounce back.”

Before the season, the question was whether the Warriors had a chance against the Lakers, but L.A. has been without LeBron James for numerous games, either because of a groin injury or Covid-19 protocol.

James will turn 37 at the end of the month (Curry is 33), and his age may be an issue. The Lakers do have Anthony Davis, Carmelo Anthony, and Russell Westbrook, each an all-star.

Yet it’s the Suns, NBA finalists a year ago, who figure to be the team the Warriors must beat.

Assuming they don’t beat themselves, as almost happened Saturday night.

A courageous stand by women’s tennis

You know the line about putting your money where your mouth is. When the words stop and the action begins. When it gets down to courage instead of talk.

The leaders of women’s tennis displayed that courage. Stood up for one of their own — and other women who never have picked up a racquet.

Announced they were suspending all tournaments in China, including Hong Kong, because of the disappearance from public life of former Grand Slam and Olympic doubles champion Peng Shuai.

The suspension will cost the Women’s Tennis Association hundreds of millions of dollars. It comes only two months before the Winter Olympics are to be held in China.

Yet after numerous requests to contact Peng had been ignored, the WTA, to its credit, did what the NBA or International Olympic Committee either could not or would not do.

It made an individual more important than a barrelful of dollars.

Two years ago Daryl Morey, then general manager of the Houston Rockets and now president of the Philadelphia 76ers, tweeted support of those marching against the Communist repression in Hong Kong.

The Chinese government responded angrily, threatening to end NBA telecasts in China, which earn the league millions. The NBA apologized. Never again would someone involved with the league mention anything about democracy.

The situation with Peng Shuai is different literally but virtually the same, an authoritarian government reminding the world of its power.

The WTA tried unsuccessfully to speak directly to Peng after her accusations in social media. Finally, in a move that surprised some, it came on strong.

Peng had been seen on iPhone screens — including a video conference with the president of the IOC, Thomas Bach — but not in person.

Bring her forth, said Steve Simon, chief executive of the WTA. Or else. The “or else” proved to be huge.

“I very much regret it has come to this point,” Simon said in a statement Wednesday. “The tennis community in China and Hong Kong are full of great people with whom we have worked for many years. They should be proud of their achievements, hospitality and success.

“However, unless China takes the steps we have asked for we cannot put our players and staff at risk by holding events in China. China’s leaders have left the WTA no choice.”

The suspicion is that China’s leaders didn’t really care when it comes down to protecting their interests.

Over the years, we’ve heard how sport helps develop relationships with other counties. But you better play by their rules if you want to have a chance in the game.

The story reads like one of those “me too” situations, except in China it seems less an issue of helping the victim than protecting the guilty.

In a free society, it would be tabloid stuff, scandalous. But as you have concluded, China is not a free society. 

Peng, 35, accused Zhang Gaol, 75, a former vice premier of China, of sexually assaulting her at his home three years ago. She also said she had an on-and-off consensual relationship with him. Then she disappeared.

When people in tennis wanted to know her whereabouts and her condition, China’s state-owned broadcast network came up with a story that Peng claimed she didn’t make the accusations.

“Hello, everyone, this is Peng Shuai,” the voice said, adding there had been no sexual assault. “I’m not missing, nor am I unsafe. I’ve been resting at home, and everything is fine. Thank you for caring about me.”

Skeptical? So too were Steve Simon and most everybody in tennis. Simon said he wants a full, fair and transparent investigation into Peng Shuai’s claims, “without censorship.”

Whether or not Peng Shuai is missing, for sure women’s tournaments in China will be.

Death of a Masters legend

Did Cliff Roberts literally say that no black man would play in the Masters golf tournament as long as he were chairman of Augusta National Golf Club?

That was the rumor in the press room in the late 1960s and early 70s. After all, hadn’t the qualifying standards been adjusted again and again, seemingly to exclude Charlie Sifford or Pete Brown?

But Lee Elder qualified just after the ’74 Masters ended, and at a function weeks later in New York, where the ’74 U.S. Open was scheduled, Roberts and Elder embraced while others stood and cheered.

It was as if a burden had been lifted. For Roberts. For Elder. For golf. For the Masters.

Elder, who died Monday at 87, would make history when he teed off in the ’75 Masters, even though he would not make the cut — something he accomplished three times — of the six he played.

A quiet, persistent individual, basically a self-taught golfer, Elder won several times on Tour and the Champions Tour. 

He was the legacy of men like Ted Rhodes, who in the 1940s and 50s overcame restrictions that now would be illegal as well as immoral.

Until 1959, the PGA of America, which ran the weekly tournaments, had a Caucasians-only clause in its charter. When two black pros were allowed to enter the Richmond Open — Richmond, Calif., near Oakland, not Richmond, Va. — an official came on the course and forced them to leave.

Elder knew. He also knew he had to play on the United Golf Tour, where in effect black golfers had their own league until they qualified for the PGA.

And he knew as he traveled from event to event there were places he couldn’t stay or couldn’t eat. It was the Jackie Robinson story a decade later.

It worked out well. Elder and his first wife, Rose, settled in the suburbs of Washington D.C., where a local Oldsmobile dealer became a sponsor and friend, and where some of the nation’s political leaders joined him for a round or two.

The 1976 PGA Championship was held at Congressional Country Club, and Rose and Lee Elder threw a party for contestants, a few media and at least one person who played an occasional round with Lee, President Gerald Ford.

Dave Stockton finished first, the second of his two PGA Championship victories. Elder obviously was also very much a winner.

You could say that by the time Lee played that first Masters, at age 45, time had passed him by, that he was cheated out of his best chance to win, but there was no whining.

There was just appreciation.

The days of struggling and threats from fans who sought to keep the status quo were in the past. There were black fans. The Masters would have an African-American champion, maybe the greatest golfer ever, Tiger Woods. Elder was in attendance when Woods stunned the world with his record-breaking first win in 1997.

How fortunate for the Masters and the game that the current Augusta chairman, Fred Ridley, a former U,S. amateur champ, chose this year’s Masters for Lee to be an honorary starter.

Lee joined Jack Nicklaus and Gary Player to hit the traditional early-morning tee shots that begin the round. He already was a hero to the Augusta employees, many of whom are black. Now he was a legend.

The only shame was that Clifford Roberts, who died years earlier, wasn’t there to see it.

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.

Steph’s ‘greatest show in basketball’

JJ Redick knew how to shoot a basketball. He made 2,000 3-pointers in his NBA career. But Redick doesn’t know how Steph Curry shoots it.

“He’s tapped into a higher level of consciousness,” Redick said of Curry. “Right now, Steph’s the greatest show in basketball.”

Redick was speaking Tuesday night on Scott Van Pelt’s ESPN show. Curry had scored 37, made nine 3-pointers in a Warriors romp over the Nets.

He got 40 on Thursday night when the Warriors, once trailing by 13, outscored Cleveland by a remarkable 36-8 in the fourth quarter to defeat the Cavaliers, 104-89.

The Warriors have been stopped only twice in 15 games.

The question asked of Redick, who in September retired after 14 seasons in the NBA, was how do you stop Curry?

Basically, you don’t.

“He’s gotten stronger,” said Redick. “He can shoot every which way. And he’s not just a shooter. He’s got imagination, daring. He can go right, left, dribble right, left. He can play physical, off the ball.

“He’s like no other player of my generation.”

A generation that for the 37-year-old Redick includes LeBron James, arguably the best in the NBA.

When Michael Jordan was the man of the game and the time, he virtually owned every arena he entered, from New York to L.A.

The people might have been Knicks fans or Lakers fans — or Warriors fans — but most of all they were MJ fans.

Now? “It’s him and LeBron,” Redick, a Duke grad who should know better, said ungrammatically about Curry and James.

We’ve heard it. We’ve seen it. When Curry’s lighting them up, hitting from the corners, from way beyond the arc, the crowd becomes as much of the story as the shots.

Dunks are thrilling, but except for a rare few of us, unattainable. “But we’ve all shot a basketball,” said Van Pelt. We can identify with Curry’s accomplishment.

If really all we can do is marvel at it.

Redick was one of the sport’s top long-distance shooters. Which makes him appreciate Curry’s brilliance.

Curry again had nine 3-pointers on Thursday, the 38th time he’s made nine or more in a game. “You know how many times I had nine?” Redick said as a matter of comparison. “One.”

When he played, beginning at Duke, Redick was feisty, combative — and unpopular, the focus of booing and derision.

But what the public thought of Redick is not reflected in what he thinks of other players. There is no jealousy, just honesty.

“He plays with joy,” said Redick. “It’s infectious to everyone in the arena except the opposing team.”

They used to say that about Magic Johnson who, while others scowled or frowned or gasped, played with a smile, as if he were happy to be there.

Curry is living the good life, off court as well as on. He has a great family. He’s at the forefront in support of various charitable programs.

He’s been on three NBA championship teams, and it’s beginning to look like he may well be part of another.

“You see the way his teammates respond when he’s going well,” said Redick. “I never got to play with him, but I assume it must be a lot of fun.”

It is, for teammates, spectators, and the community.

Redick alluded to a popular tavern game. “Watching him,” said Redick, “is like having a perfect buzz and making the last shot in beer pong.”

He remembered a few seasons back when Klay Thompson was in the Warriors’ lineup, and he or Curry or both were unguarded and making one three after another.

Thompson, injured since the playoffs of 2019, finally is supposed to return in a month or two.

“Back two, three years ago,” Redick reminded, “they had the most open looks on threes in the NBA. The scary thing is when Klay comes back, they’ll have more.

“Shooting begets shooting.”

As only a shooter would know.

Niners go back to who they are

The man on ESPN sounded as baffled as he was impressed: “They did not look like this last week.” He meant the 49ers, of course,

And to that observation we add, nor any week in the last year.

The Niners had gone 390 days since a win at Levi’s Stadium, their home. Then they played their patsies, the Los Angeles Rams.

We modify the cliché — let’s make it “on any given Monday.” On this Monday, the 49ers gave it to the Rams, winning 31-10, ending a streak of eight straight losses at Levi’s and continuing a streak of wins over the Rams, now six. 

There was a lot in print and on TV the past few days about the Rams, Hollywood’s team if you will, mostly for acquiring that receiver with the flair, flash and catchy name, Odell Beckham Jr., a.k.a. OBJ (yes, too many initials, but that’s our world). Headline stuff. OBJ, we were told, was the final piece in the puzzle, the guy who was going to get the Rams to the coming Super Bowl — which conveniently will be played at the Rams’ $5 billion SoFi Stadium.

OBJ may indeed help get the Rams to the NFL Championship, but he couldn’t do much about getting L.A. out of the pit in which he and the Rams found themselves in against San Francisco.

There are 60 minutes in a game. On Monday night, the Niners had the ball 39 minutes 3 seconds of those 60.

Hang on to the ball, pick off a couple of Rams passes (both by Jimmy Ward, one of which was returned for a touchdown, the infamous pick six) and you can’t lose.

“They went back to who they are,” said Louis Riddick, who analyzes for NBC Sports Bay Area.

Or who they were.

Maybe you missed the grumbling from fans and media because of the attention to OBJ — hard to ignore ESPN — but there was great disenchantment with the 49ers, beginning with head coach Kyle Shanahan.

A team that had been considered a probability for the postseason was 2-4 and at the bottom of NFC West.

And besides that, the Niners looked so awful against Arizona a week ago, one supporter emailed that he switched channels to some music program.

What to do? The old cure.

“We went back to basics,” said quarterback Jimmy Garoppolo. Meaning plays that would succeed. Taking opportunities not chances.

Garoppolo, who gets his share of criticism, was effective, completing his first 12 passes and 15 of 19. When Deebo Samuel wasn’t catching the ball, he was running with it.

The Niners, perhaps as much in frustration as determination, pounded away. Woody Hayes, he of the three yards and a cloud of dust, would have been overjoyed.

It isn’t too much of a reach to say Shanahan was.

The Niners had 156 yards rushing, the Rams 52. Passing? The Rams had 226 to San Francisco’s 179. OBJ had two receptions for 18 yards.

You might say the Niners were fighting to keep their jobs.  What Shanahan would say was, “The whole team has to play that way, offense, defense, special teams.”

The game plan was simple — and brilliant. Keep the ball and keep the opponent off balance.

“The Rams are a real good team,” said Shanahan, “but we were excited to play them.” Given history, it’s easy to understand why.

“I think we took a lot of things personally,” said Shanahan. “We were very aware. We wanted to make the game as physical as possible. But our physical guys also have some skill sets.”

They can maneuver. They can think. They also can grasp the disappointment — disgust, even — engendered by going winless game after game on their home turf.

“There are no secrets to what we did,” said Garoppolo. “We were just locked in.”

After figuratively being locked out for 390 days.

Warriors keeping NBA confused, fans enthralled

So they can’t keep this up, and everybody knows (or think they know) the Lakers and Nets are superior teams.

But hasn’t this been fun — as well as surprising?

There are the Warriors playing like it was 2015. Or 2017 or 2018, winning and winning. And winning.

And keeping the NBA in confusion.

You ask yourself how this is happening, and then you ask how much better it could be with Klay Thompson back on the court.

This Curry kid seems unstoppable. True, at 33, the other night becoming the oldest with 50 points and 10 assists, he’s no longer a kid. But that’s merely a figure of speech.

Winning is great, certainly, and heading into Friday night’s game against Chicago at Chase Center the Dubs have won six in a row and 10 of their last 11. Winning unexpectedly is even better.

And this recent run has been unexpected, if not unappreciated. You have to think management, primarily GM Bob Myers, knows something about basketball — and, no less importantly, about basketball players.

Yes, the play of Steph Curry is a given. But how about those other guys, Draymond Green, who unfortunately may be out because of a contusion in his left leg received in Wednesday’s 123-110 win over Minnesota; Kevon Looney; Andre Iguodala; Jordan Poole; and most noticeably after 35 points against his old team, Andrew Wiggins.

“Keep protecting him,” Curry said of Wiggins.

What journalists up in Minneapolis said, in so many words, is that Wiggins is a semi-bust. The No. 1 overall pick in the 2014 draft, Wiggins was chosen by Cleveland but quickly enough in a transaction that included the Cavaliers and 76ers was traded to Minnesota, where he was not liked at all by the critics.

Finally, in February 2020, the Warriors got him for Jordan Poole, and a blogger named Brandon Anderson ecstatically wrote, “The Timberwolves might have saved their franchise, while the Warriors made a catastrophic misstep that could put their dynasty on the brink.”

Strong stuff, huh? Also misguided stuff. Rather than a catastrophe, the Warriors with the 6-foot 8 Wiggins in the game have been a success.

Warriors coach Steve Kerr had a one-word analysis of Wiggins’ performance against the T-Wolves, “fantastic” — a considerable distance from catastrophic. “Obviously excited to play against his old team,” he added.

Wiggins provided not only scoring but rebounding and defense. He takes on the big man, in height and reputation, from the other team.

In basketball at any level, from prep to pro, you not only need the pieces, the athletes, but you need the pieces to fit. When the Warriors are at their best, and they’ve been close at times, they pressure on defense, get the missed shot and roar down the court with the ball.

“I had a good start,” said Wiggins, who had 22 in the first half.

That sentence would also describe his team’s play these opening weeks, something not to be dismissed.

The NBA season is long (82 games) and difficult with constant travel. There will be injuries and questionable calls. A team needs to get in front and try to stay there. Let the rest play catch-up.

The Warriors have spoiled their fans and themselves. Kevin Durant might leave, Klay Thompson might be severely injured — but there was no thought of rebuilding, of playing for next year. The Dubs’ future is now.

“We have a lot more shooters,” Kerr said about this Warriors squad, “and this opening the court up for guys to be able to cut, throw lobs and get a lot more stops and runs.

“I think last year we had really good defense, but we fouled a lot. This year we haven’t been fouling as much. We are able to push the ball and run in transition.”

They’ve got Gary Payton II, Juan Toscano-Anderson and the oldest of old reliables, Iguodala.

“We can finish above the rim,” said Kerr, “so that’s really been exciting to watch.”

So is the ball going through the hoop.

Niners can’t pass the eye test — or the football

You’ve heard the term in advertising: Eye test. Never mind the numbers or opinion of others. Do you like what you see? If you don’t, what else do you need to know?

The 49ers these days can’t pass the eye test. (That at times they can’t pass the football either is part of the problem.)

The Niners don’t look good. Which is being kind.

If you stayed with the Niners on Sunday as they failed to stay with the Arizona Cardinals, you can understand why head coach Kyle Shanahan said he was disappointed. He also said a lot more after the 31-17 loss at Levi’s Stadium.

He told us the Niners didn’t tackle well. Couldn’t stop the run. Didn’t stop the screen pass.

But that was very clear in the eye test.

San Francisco was outplayed from start to finish, giving away the ball on two fumbles and an interception; giving away big chunks of yardage on first downs.

What’s happened to a team many thought would be a contender for the Super Bowl but now is 3-5 and hasn’t won a home game since last season is a legitimate question.

Without easy answers. Maybe without answers of any kind.

Something is very wrong, and it isn’t necessarily quarterback Jimmy Garoppolo or Shanahan or the defense or the offensive line, but undeniably all are involved. In other words, bringing in Trey Lance isn’t going to make things better quickly.

The factors that combined to get the Niners to the Super Bowl only a couple of years ago, the ones that enable a team to succeed, controlling the ball, preventing the opponent from doing the same, have vanished like the thoughts of another championship.

Eye test: The Cardinal team on the field Sunday lacked Kyler Murray, the quarterback who runs like a halfback, wide receiver DeAndre Hopkins and all-pro defensive end J.J. Watt.

Obviously, that didn’t matter, because the Niner team on the field lacked willpower.

Every team has downers. Nobody wins them all, and on Sunday the Rams, arguably the best team in the NFL and the Niners’ next opponent, were defeated at home by the Tennessee Titans.

Yet, the 49ers were sad reminders of what used to be, a franchise that over the years may have struggled but at least had a chance to win.

The Niners, down 17-0 all so quickly, never had a chance in this one, and if Shanahan didn’t say that directly he very much implied it.

Kyle is perceptive enough to understand that if he can see what was going on, so could those at the stadium or watching on TV.

Coaches or baseball managers brought in by organizations where winning isn’t so much expected as demanded inevitably say it’s the city’s team and they’re merely caretakers.

It’s obvious in this disappointing season of 2021, to borrow from Kyle Shanahan, that nobody is taking care of a football team with a proud past.

“We couldn’t stop the run,” said Shanahan. “All those free yards. We couldn’t keep them from less than five yards on first down. Couldn’t stop the screen passes. We’ve got to make those plays..

“And on offense we dropped the ball. We fumbled, then we fumbled again.”

Tight end George Kittle, out the past few weeks, returned and after a reception was one of the fumblers. Brandon Aiyuk was the other.

The interception, of course, came from Garoppolo, trailing late when everybody — including the Cardinals — knew the Niners had to pass.

There’s an axiom in sports that it takes a long while to become a champion, but you regress to failure all too quickly.

The 49ers lead the league in turnover differential, their negative total growing by three against the Cardinals.

“I think this year with turnovers,” conceded pass rusher Nick Bosa, ”we’re not getting them, and we’re giving them up too much. That’s a big sign of a losing team. And that’s what we are right now.”

As we could see all too well.

Now Warriors face the L.A. team without celeb fans

So big an emotional swing in so short a time.

The prelude to the Warriors’ opener was all about the other team, understandable perhaps because the other team is Hollywood’s team, the Lakers.

Everyone was calling them the “new-look” Lakers.

As they used to say in the old movies, “Hello, sweetheart. Give me a rewrite.”

Or if you’re the Lakers, “Give me some baskets at crunch time.”

Only one game. But in the great scheme of California things, including rivalries and Bay Area paranoia, a very big game.

A game in the right direction. A game the Warriors won, 121-114. A game that allowed Warriors coach Steve Kerr to observe, “We could be a good team.”

More on that possibility will be available when the Warriors play their first home game of the 2021-22 season on Thursday night at Chase Center.

It’s against the other L.A. team, the one with less hype, no championships and without Jack Nicholson, Adele or other celebrity fans — the Clippers. 

Will the Lakers, Russell Westbrook joining LeBron James and Anthony Davis, develop into the great team that some have predicted? And will the Warriors surprise us pessimists? Indeed, one game is of little indication.

Yet the simple fact that the Dubs outscored the Lakers in the fourth quarter — remember those depressing days when Kobe or Magic or Shaq would own the closing minutes? — had to be uplifting.

After the Dodgers ousted the Giants in the playoffs (never mind what they’re doing against the Braves) and the Rams moved ahead of the 49ers in the standings, the Lakers were going to make it a SoCal sweep. NorCal was nowhere.

Then, even playing poorly, somehow the Warriors defeated the Lakers in Los Angeles.

That was without Klay Thompson, who we’re told, after two years of recovery and rehab from those injuries to his knee and Achilles tendon, will play in November.

The litany is that basketball is the ultimate team game. Yet, winning and losing depends on an individual, on LeBron for the Lakers or Steph Curry for the Warriors.

They so often get the big basket or rebound. Or steal.

Curry, however, was not at his best on Tuesday. “I played like trash tonight,” he told TNT. OK, but it was the kind of trash that produced Steph’s first triple double in five seasons, 21 points, 10 assists and 10 rebounds.

“He really only cares about the win,” said Kerr. “Steph always comes back with a good game.”

Said Draymond Green, still the rock on defense, about the win even with Curry’s off-night, "It's a huge lift. We relied on him so much, and we're still going to rely on him a lot.

“When he can have a night like he did tonight, not get it going, we still come out with a win, that's great. 

The Warriors struggled early because Kerr chose to go with his so-called small lineup, which proved disadvantageous against the taller Lakers (the 7-foot Davis, the 6-9 James), if not disastrous.

“We’re still learning each other,” said Kerr. “Do we want to go big and get the glass, or do we want to play small and spread the court? As the seasons goes, we’ll figure it out.”

What pleased Kerr was the decline in fouls from last season when the Warriors had the highest number in the NBA, many from reach-ins. “Our defense was fine,” said Kerr.

That was the reason the Warriors came back in the second half. Defense was what propelled the Dubs to three titles and five straight appearances in the NBA finals.

Those days are gone. The Warriors are working for a return.

Badosa wins a match that was matchless

INDIAN WELLS, Calif. — It took two and a half years to get tennis back to Indian Wells, and once it returned it seemed determined never to end.

On a Sunday blessed by the weather that makes the California desert so attractive in early autumn, Paula Badosa and Victoria Azarenka played a match that would be attractive any time, any place.

Badosa, a 23-year-old Spaniard, outlasted — and the term is more than a cliché in this instance — Azarenka, 7-6 (5), 6-2, 7-6 (2), to win the BNP Paribas Open.

The final took 3 hours 4 minutes, the longest ladies’ match ever at Indian Wells. And had it been at a Grand Slam, say Wimbledon or the U.S. Open rather than the tournament nicknamed “The Fifth Slam,” it could have been historic.

Commenting for the Tennis Channel, Lindsay Davenport, who did win those two Slams, the U.S. Open and Wimbledon, described the match as one of the best she had seen.

Apropos of nothing on this 86-degree afternoon except the idea that greatness attracts, nine-time Grand Slam winner Monica Seles was part of the crowd that filled a good part of the 16,100-seat main stadium at Indian Wells Tennis Garden.

Held for years in March — it will be back in March 2022, not that far away — the tournament was wiped off the sports map in 2020 because of Covid-19. The tennis people and BNP decided to try a one-off return this October. No Serena Williams, Roger Federer or Rafa Nadal. No Novak Djokovic, a former Indian Wells winner, who chose not to enter. And early on, no Daniil Medvedev and Alexander Zverev, who lost in the first few days.

But the tournament not only survived, it prospered. So the men’s final, in which Cameron Norrie defeated Nikoloz Basilashvili, 3-6. 6-4, 6-1, wasn’t what they call glamour stuff in Hollywood, 150 miles up Interstate 5.

But, ah, the women’s match was brilliant.

Azarenka, 32, is from Belarus, but she lives in southern Cal and twice previously won Indian Wells singles.

While she wasn’t pleased with the result of this match, she was pleased it was held — and that it was so competitive.

As Chris Clarey of the New York Times pointed out, both Azarenka and Badosa were stuck in long quarantines when they went in January to play in the Australian Open.

On Sunday, they remarkably — and deservedly — ended up facing each other in what will turn out to be the final event of the tennis season, an event that came through persistence and hard work by the BNP and Indian Wells staffers.

When someone told Azarenka the tennis Sunday was extraordinary, she said, “I would agree with comparing it to the match of the year. I think the entire match, the quality of tennis was super high level.

“We were both going for our shots, really pushing each other to the max. I think that's what made it super entertaining, that competitive spirit, really fighting for every ball, not giving in anywhere. It's very challenging to maintain that. I think that we both did that really well.”

Badosa, younger, seemed stronger in the last game, not holding anything back. She called the match a roller coaster, the way she would take charge and then lose control.

The majority of fans cheered loudly for Azarenka, but they never held their cheers or applause for Badosa following a big shot.

“I was playing Vika,” said Badosa, using the name by which the players call Azarenka. “She's a great champion. I‘ve admired her since I was a little girl, so that's another thing.

“Yeah, it was amazing. I'm still a little bit in shock about what happened right now. But in that moment, I was super excited and super proud of what I did after three hours fighting on court.”

The BNP people should be no less proud of the fact that the tournament was played.

At Indian Wells, Fritz can’t make anything of his chances

INDIAN WELLS, Calif. — He had chances. Taylor Fritz made that concession. The trouble was he couldn’t make anything of those chances.

A guy named Nikoloz Basilashvili was responsible for that.

Tennis can be a tough game, whether you’re playing or promoting. The sport hits the headlines when people such as Roger Federer, Novak Djokovic or Rafa Nadal are hitting forehands in your tournament.

The rest of the guys on the ATP are tremendous. What they don’t have is the so-called Q-factor, recognition beyond their homeland, which for Basilashvili is Georgia — not the state with the No. 1 football team, the country in the Caucasus where the Warriors’ Zaza Pachulia also grew up.

Basilashvili pounds the ball. Then again, so does Fritz. What also took a pounding Saturday in the BNP Paribas Open at the Indian Wells Tennis Garden was the hope an American might reach the Sunday final and help fill the 16,100-seat main stadium.

Instead, Basilashvili defeated the local hope, Fritz, 7-6 (5), 6-3. And in the other semi, Cameron Norrie of England (and everywhere else) defeated the quite recognizable (and not because he once dated Maria Sharapova and Serena Williams) Grigor Dimitrov, 5-3, 6-4.

That everyone in the stands (and the tournament offices) wanted Fritz, a native of southern California, to win was nothing against Basilashvili.

It’s just that in a sport of individuals, with no home teams, the ones from next door — whether door is a figurative label — invariably are of more interest to those in attendance or watching on TV.

But the kid from next door, Fritz, 23, wasn’t able to make the breakthrough American fans have wanted. Although ranked roughly the same as Basilashvili (29th to 31st) and playing the same type of sledgehammer tennis, Fritz couldn’t score.

“It was really tough,” said Fritz, “because I wanted to come out and play aggressively and attack, but I just couldn’t get many chances. I had a lot of chances to break. But other than that, it was tough for me to get an opportunity.

“He definitely has a backhand harder than anybody on Tour. The way it comes at you, so hard and flat and deep, there’s nothing you can do.”

Since Basilashvili is 29 and hasn’t won a Slam, his other opponents must have done something. 

Fritz has spoken about silencing his inner self — meaning just hit the ball and don’t overthink. “I think I did a good job,” he said. “When I would get a little nervous or worried, I kept telling myself I would win the match.”

Except Basilashvili won it.

“I was relaxed in the big moments,” said Basilashvili. “Taylor made me play a lot of balls. I was more focused. Which is why I was able to save break points.”

The question on a day when the temperature in the desert nudged 90 degrees was whether he or the other men still left can save a BNP Paribas event in which No. 2 ranked Daniil Medvedev and most other top seeds were eliminated early.

Norrie, another virtual unknown, was born in South Africa, went to New Zealand, and now lives in England. He is also a Horned Frog, having played at Texas Christian.

He’s had as many tournament wins this year as Djokovic, if in lesser tournaments, and almost silently has moved to the No. 1 position among British players.

He’ll face Basilashvili in the final.

“I was just going out there and playing my game,” he said of the tidy win over Dimitrov. “Making all the rallies long.

“I’ve faced some pretty decent players in the third round this year — Rafa in Australia, Rafa in the French, then Roger at Wimbledon. Those experiences have been great for me.”

A final at Indian Wells isn’t going to be a bad experience either.

Of the Giants, McEnroe and officiating

INDIAN WELLS, Calif. — What happened at the final pitch of that agonizing Giants-Dodgers playoff, the arguable call on the last pitch that left fans outraged and players bewildered, wouldn’t happen in tennis.

But it used to happen. Or have you forgotten John McEnroe?

John’s not down here in the desert at the BNP Paribas tournament, but his spirit is. When McEnroe played, and he was great — as he still is as a TV commentator — John would challenge virtually every line call with his inimitable observation, “You cannot be serious.”

Now, at least at this BNP, the calls are made electronically. No lines people, no Serena Williams blistering a cowering female official with language that wouldn’t pass a censor.

But tennis is absolute. The courts are painted on the surface. The ball is either in or out. And the replays prove it to the fans, in attendance — clapping rhythmically as the picture comes into view — or watching on TV.

We can be serious.

Baseball is more judgmental.  Did the Giants’ Wilmer Flores check his swing on what would become the ultimate pitch of the 2021 San Francisco season?

He thought he did. Thousands of Giants fans thought he did. But with two outs, the Dodgers leading 2-1 and the tying run on base, first base ump Gabe Morales raised a thumb.

Game over. For the Giants, year over. Outrage beginning. But why? Was there outrage over Mookie Betts’ four hits?

The Dodgers were the better team, are the better team. They’ve got all those Cy Young Award winners and MVPs. Their payroll reflects the quality of the roster.

I’ve said it before: Cars, wine and ballplayers — you get what you pay for, with exceptions.

The Dodgers are paying around $200 million for their roster, the Giants around $140 million. Questionable calls by officials? They will be a part of all sports, until as has happened in tennis, humans are eliminated from the process, which you hope is never. Every human errs.

Henry (Red) Sanders, the football coach at UCLA half a century ago, insisted, “When my team makes as few mistakes as the officials, we’ll win every game.”

The Giants won more games than predicted, but in the end they couldn’t win the game they needed against the dreaded Dodgers, who if it hadn’t been for a comparable situation in reverse would have finished the regular season a game in front of the Giants instead of a game behind.

Not that it matters now, except for the health of Dodgers manager Dave Roberts, who became apoplectic over the call. In that game, on July 22 at Dodger Stadium, L.A. was ahead 3-2, with two outs in the ninth. The Giants had the bases loaded. Dodgers reliever Kenley Jansen threw a 3-2 pitch at which Darin Ruf seemed to swing and miss to end the game.

Not so fast. The umpire decided it was not a swing and the game was tied. Roberts screamed and was ejected, and the Giants eventually won.

Good teams, good players somehow find a way.

When there was an obvious missed call against Roger Federer, he would shake it off and win the next point.

When the 49ers were collecting Super Bowl trophies, earning the label “Team of the ‘80s,” nothing appeared to bother them, whether it was flight problems, officiating or the opposing team. But when the losses grew in the ‘90s, so did the complaints — excuses if you will.

The pressures in big-time sports are enormous. Failure is never far away. Then again, neither is success.

A month ago, Daniil Medvedev won the U.S. Open over Novak Djokovic. A few days after that, he was upset by Grigor Dimitrov here at Indian Wells.

Whatever the game, you hit the shots or throw the pitches and do your best to ignore the line calls.

Whether they’re made by an electronic device or by man.

Azarenka’s still here — very much so

INDIAN WELLS, Calif. — That song “I’m Still Here,” from a Sondheim musical, seems so perfect for Victoria Azarenka, who despite everything — including a child custody battle that kept her in courtrooms and off the courts — is very much still here.

Still in the game, while some of her rivals — Maria Sharapova, Serena Williams — are not.

Also, still in the BNP Paribas Open, where Friday she plays Jelena Ostapenko in a semifinal.

The one nicknamed Vika is a lady of substance. She’s earned millions in a career that pushed her to No. 1 not that long ago and included wins in two Australian Opens.

She’s from Belarus but spends so much time in southern California that she owns a home in West Los Angeles. She’s known for her backhand and persistence. And her independence.

It’s not easy — or sometimes not fair — for women sporting stars who are fighting two battles against the clock, wanting to play well virtually forever but also, before it gets too late, wanting to have a family. Or perhaps not wanting to have a family.

Azarenka gave birth to a son, Leo, in December 2016 but then broke up with the father, Billy McKeague, in August 2017. But because Azarenka is not an American citizen and McKeague is, she was prevented from taking the baby with her on the road to play tennis — and most tennis is on the road.

Azarenka was forced to withdraw from from the remaining tournaments that year, explaining in April 2018, “I wouldn't wish that on anybody to go through what I've been going through.”

The Daily Mail in London reported that the only way Azarenka could play in the U.S. Open that year is if “I leave Leo behind and enter in tournaments outside the United States, where most are, or in California, which I'm not willing to do.”

At the beginning of 2018, it was reported Azarenka had won an early round of the U.S. custody proceedings, with an L.A. judge ruling that the case should take place in Belarus, rather than Los Angeles County.

Azarenka may have lost time, but once again across a net she showed she could win matches.

To make things more uncomfortable, tennis — all sports — had to go through quarantines and suspensions during the second half of 2020.

What Azarenka went through surprised many, Victoria herself. She upset Serena in the semifinal of the 2020 U.S. Open before losing to Naomi Osaka in the final. After all the hassles, she was a success again..

Then, at last in 2021, Azarenka was awarded custody of Leo. Mother and son are a happy duo around area swimming pools when Victoria is at leisure in a place she knows well, having won the BNP a few times previously.

Azarenka was asked if getting this far at Indian Wells, however she does against Ostopenko, gives her a different viewpoint of a season that, because of the custody situation, was less than she would want.

“I don't think I'll be looking at this and kind of look back into the season,” she said. “I think the more important is to actually look right now what I'm able to do. Not necessarily look forward, but it's almost like reassurance here.

“The results are coming. That's the measure, right? How else are you going to measure your progress? In tennis, unfortunately, it's all by the results, especially that measure from the outside. For yourself, you can put little goals and try to climb that ladder. In the end of the day, results is going to determine how well you performed, which sometimes can be tricky.”

Victoria Azarenka isn’t going away. She’s still here.