The oldest of the group, Marian had never before been "un-shy enough" to attempt to be anything like a Nugget. "It really is the wildest thing I've ever done," she says. "I left the HEW job the day before my 30th birthday. It was all very symbolic, you know."
"Hey, I saw you on TV," a little boy said to Marian.
"You did? When?"
"Last Sunday when they showed what you do."
"What did they show?"
"That you sing at the games. Can I have a bumper sticker?"
Night II was a promotional party to introduce the record album to the press and others. Peter Marino Jr., who helped produce the record, was the host, and his lavishly decorated house was open for inspection. A Dorian Gray-like portrait of Marino hung in the foyer, and at one point in the evening a guest was advised to "lie down on the fur bedspread upstairs and pretend you're a baby llama."
More than a dozen Nuggets were there (in uniform, of course). Joe Reed & the Niner Nuggets played softly over the stereo system. Marino had on red pants and a red 49er shirt. ("The straightest thing I've worn in months," he confided.) Joe Reed and his wife chatted with the guests; the Nuggets stood around the sumptuously loaded dining-room table, talking to one another and putting the food away. Somebody took pictures of Reed and the Nuggets. Berg invited a few of the girls to singer Lou Rawls' opening at the Fairmont Hotel. Everybody left.
Rawls is considered a good-luck charm for teams in the Bay Area, particularly the 49ers. Seven of the eight times he has sung the national anthem before a 49er game, San Francisco has won. Berg wanted him to sing before the New Orleans game and Rawls wanted to comply but there was a problem. He was scheduled to sing before the final game of the World Series in Oakland, 25 minutes after the 49ers' kickoff. Berg assured him they would work it out.
The next evening six of us went through the maternity ward of St. Mary's Hospital with T shirts reading I'M A 49ER BABY. There were 10 new mothers and one woman still in labor (we left hers on the nightstand). The nurses ooohed as we stepped off the elevator and passed an ancient nun, who eyed the boots and hot pants as if she too wished they were Ronald McDonald suits. Our Player-of-the-Night, Running Back Doug Cunningham, was late.