The Great Change: Turning Cathy into a Lawyer

There's been a lot of news lately about all the new stadiums proposed for the Bay Area. The Oakland A's want one in Fremont, the San Francisco 49ers want one in Santa Clara, and Cal football coach Jeff Tedford managed to get the promise of a new one added to his contract.

Of all these teams, Cal has the greatest need, and not just because Tedford demanded it. The Cal Bears play in the wonderful 1920's-era Memorial Stadium, nicely nestled at the base of Strawberry Canyon, with breathtaking views of the Bay Area from the west side and a nice, gentle bowl with perfect oval symmetry to give good views of the field to every seat within it. (Click here for a picture.)

Unfortunately it's also built right on top of the Hayward Fault, a fault that creeps about a centimeter a year and has been on an 80 year quest to rip the stadium apart. Meanwhile the western half is built upon unreinforced fill, and in case of earthquake bad things are almost certain to happen to the stadium.

So a seismic retrofit is desperately needed. And it wouldn't hurt to update it a little too: concessions are fairly sparse, and restrooms even sparser. But otherwise it's a lovely stadium, inside and out, and should be left alone.

Of course, once the people in charge of stadium projects get to start thinking about stadium projects, they tend to think big and radical. I haven't seen the plans they've unfolded for it - I'm not sure anyone in the public really has - but already concerns are being voiced by affected constituencies. The City of Berkeley, for one, but perhaps more importantly, Cal fans themselves. There's a significant concern, for instance, that the new improvements will obliterate Tightwad Hill.

As I described, Memorial Stadium is built against a hillside at the mouth of what's known as Strawberry Canyon, a small valley that runs for a mile or so back into the hills. On each side of the canyon are some taller hillsides, and one of these hillsides offers a decent vantage of the playing field. Thus the name "Tightwad Hill," in commemoration of all the people who perch on it to watch the games without coughing up the money for a ticket.

How many other schools have a tightwad hill? How many even could? It's something that sets Cal apart. It's part of Cal culture, Cal tradition. And that's what's really important. More important than a modern stadium. Even more important than a won-loss record. It's what keeps Cal, Cal. It's what unites its fans and brings them together, year after year, no matter how Cal manages to perform. It's what inspires us to cheer her, it's what inspires us to love her. It is not something to be trifled with.

Last night Cal managed to avoid the same season outcome it's managed to avoid since 1959, a trip to the Rose Bowl, despite all predictions to the contrary. Yes, this is a great Cal team, perhaps the best in years, but the national pundits who tried to pick it for national championships prematurely and set other bizarrely lofty aspirations for a team that until recently could get through a season with barely one win, missed the point about what Cal is about. Cal isn't about being an athletic powerhouse. It's not supposed to be a USC. It's a scrappy team that comes to play and wins victories that are sweeter than any SEC team could possibly experience simply because Cal isn't expected to be that kind of team. Instead what should be expected, given years and years of past history, is that when Cal plays Arizona, no matter how each team has been doing, all bets are off. There may be no mathematical reason for why those games break that way. When you match up every season statistic there may be no reason to expect it at all. But it can't be discounted, because that's what happens, nearly every year. It's part of the mystique of Cal football.

Just as every other ritual or song or tradition is part of the mystique. It's that mystique which keeps us coming back, year after year, even when those statistics tell us we shouldn't bother. Of course, it's not as though an Old Blue Cal fan doesn't want with all their heart to win, or doesn't believe just as fervently that we can. It's just that if the winning doesn't happen - or even if it does - that there is something else left of value. Something that no national ranking or fancy stadium or other hype can possibly supplant, and that none should ever try.