The Anatomy Of A Miracle

Like Kapp, Stanford Coach Paul Wiggin had returned to his alma mater, where, again like Kapp, he had been an All-America. Unlike Kapp, however, he had extensive coaching experience: nine years as an NFL assistant and 2½ seasons as head coach of the Kansas City Chiefs. This was his third year as Stanford's coach, and for him it had been a frustrating and worrisome one. The defense he had promised to shore up after a disappointing 4-7 record in 1981 had failed him again in the close losses, and his critics in the press and among alumni were becoming increasingly agitated. If Wiggin couldn't win with the best quarterback in the history of college football, it was asked, what will happen after Elway's graduation? Only Wiggin's strong Stanford ties had kept him on the job, but even they would not be enough to save him if he lost the Big Game.

Wiggin is a true stalwart, a dignified man, forthright, friendly and knowledgeable, but by the end of the season, the criticism and the narrow defeats were beginning to wear on him. The win over Washington had given him national recognition, but the heartbreaking losses to Arizona and UCLA that followed had brought him under merciless scrutiny once more. He would—some say miraculously—survive what happened in the Cal game, but the bitterness of this final fantastic defeat would not leave him. "Ask me 10 years from now," he said two months after The Play, "and I'll say the same thing—we won that game." Wiggin got to keep his job, but lost, it would appear, his sense of humor.

He and Stanford would be undone by four players whose careers until the Big Game had been largely unremarkable. Kevin Moen and Mariet Ford, both seniors, were playing in their last college game. Moen, blond, blue-eyed, with a sparse mustache, is the son of a Southern California banker. He shared playing time at strong safety with Richard Rodgers, another member of The Play's now famous foursome. Significantly, both Moen and Rodgers, who were close friends and roommates on road trips, had been option quarterbacks in high school. Before The Play, Moen, who stands 6'1" and weighs 190 pounds, had been known chiefly as a hard tackier, The Undertaker of the Golden Bears secondary, "a killer," says Kapp. Away from football, he seems introspective and has a wry approach to life's complexities. Moen hopes to enter graduate school next spring in preparation for a career as a teacher.

Ford was easily the best known of the quartet. Though only 5'9", 165 pounds, in two varsity seasons as a wide receiver he caught at least one pass in every game he played and was outstanding as a kick returner. In his junior year he led all Pac-10 wide receivers, with 45 catches. Last season he caught 42 passes for 568 yards, including seven for 132 in the Big Game. His astonishing one-handed 29-yard touchdown reception in the second quarter might well have been the play of the Big Game, had it not been for The Play. Ford majored in sociology and is planning a career as a child psychologist. He is bright, affable and hard-working. He made only one promise to his parents, he says, and that was to graduate from Cal. He kept it.

Rodgers, a thick-muscled, 6-foot 200-pounder, is an exceptionally smart and disciplined player who, like his friend Moen, is a fierce tackier. But his attitude is what sets him apart in the eyes of his coach. Rodgers, who's now a senior, has an uncommon zest for football, and is an unflinching optimist. "Richard plays this game with a smile," says Kapp. Rodgers, whose mother is a dispatcher for the San Francisco Police Department, is planning to attend law school.

Running Back Dwight Garner is the baby of the four. Only a freshman last fall, he played sparingly, rushing only 30 times for 103 yards. At 5'9", 185 pounds, he is a darting, elusive runner and a capable pass receiver. His part in The Play will be the source of endless controversy, a circumstance he finds somewhat daunting. "It's all a little hard for me to handle," he says, "but I suppose I'll be thought of as controversial from now on."

Neither team scored in the first quarter of the game. In the second quarter Joe Cooper booted a 31-yard field goal and Ford made his diving end-zone grab to give Cal a 10-0 lead at halftime. Stanford pulled ahead 14-10 in the third quarter on two Elway touchdown passes to Halfback Vincent White. A Cooper field goal early in the fourth quarter made the score 14-13, and then, with 11:24 to go, Cal's Wes Howell made a sprawling touchdown catch that was fully as remarkable as Ford's. Cal's try for a two-point conversion failed, so the score remained 19-14.

With 5:32 to play Stanford's Harmon kicked a field goal to make it 19-17. With 1:27 left and the ball on the Cardinal 20, Stanford got the ball for the last time. The huge crowd, sensing some final Elway heroics, stood as one, animated, depending on school loyalties, by hope or fear. On the west side of the 60-year-old stadium, where Cardinal partisans held forth, the din was nearly unbearable. On the east, Cal rooters nervously urged their team to hang on one last time. The sun was sinking beyond the rim of the stadium as Elway set out to crown his splendid career in the bedlam of Strawberry Canyon. His first pass, a swing to White coming out of the backfield, lost seven yards when White, avoiding a tackle, slipped on a field still damp from week-long rains. Elway then missed his next two throws, one spectacularly batted away from Wide Receiver Emile Harry by Rodgers. Stanford now faced fourth and 17 on its own 13 with only 53 seconds remaining. Cal seemed a certain winner. But Elway, ever unflappable, zipped a hard spiral over the middle that somehow reached Harry among three Golden Bear defenders for a 29-yard gain and a saving first down. "He did it!" screamed KGO's Starkey.

The drive was under way. Elway hit Mike Tolliver for 19 yards to the Cal 39. Next, with 31 seconds left, Mike Dotterer picked up 21 yards on a surprise running play, a daring gamble that put Stanford on the Cal 18. Dotterer was held to no gain on the following play, but he did get the ball close to the right hash mark, Harmon's favorite area from which to kick. Harmon jogged in for the final field-goal attempt. The crowd grew quiet. "Oh my goodness," gasped Starkey as Harmon lined up for the kick with eight seconds to play. Bedlam again. "It's good!" burbled Starkey of Harmon's field goal that apparently had won the game for Stanford. "What a finish for John Elway, to pull this out. This is one of the great finishes. Only a miracle can save the Bears." True, all too true.

Hundreds of downcast Cal supporters started to make their way to the tunnels leading out of the stadium. James Igoe, a San Francisco attorney, was one of those who thought the Bears were finished. "It was the biggest mistake of my life," he says. "I walked out on history." Some Cal fans who departed early didn't learn about The Play until they read about the game in the morning papers. Dick Hafner, Cal's director of public information, told of one unfortunate Old Blue who sat confounded through an entire dinner party after the game. "He couldn't understand why everyone there was talking as if Cal had won," says Hafner.