Moving the Chains: Paying the Price 

[email protected]

When ‘the big game’ is discussed in college football circles, they’re not talking about a recent clash between instate rivals or the latest ’game of the century.’  Rather, they’re reminiscing about the one and only truly Big Game: the one played out west between California and Stanford.  

Beginning in 1892, these two schools have met on the gridiron annually with just a handful of exceptions: during both World Wars, and a 13-year hiatus from 1906 through 1918 when both schools dropped football in favor of rugby due to concerns about violence in the sport. 

The most memorable Big Game may be the one played in 1982, now and forever known simply as ‘The Play.’   A refresher: Stanford took a 20 – 19 lead with eight seconds left in the game.  On the ensuing kickoff, Cal executed a five-lateral return that resulted in a touchdown.  

But it wasn’t just any touchdown.  The scoring Cal player collided with a Stanford trombone player in the end zone, because the school’s band had already encroached the field to celebrate, mistakenly thinking they’d already won the game.  

But is it the most memorable game in their 134-year history?  Maybe.

Or maybe not.  That distinction may very well belong to an encounter that happened more than a century ago.  November 29, 1900: Thanksgiving Day, the last time the game was played in San Francisco.  

However, what took place inside the stadium at Folsom Grounds that day wasn’t what made it memorable.  Rather, it’s what happened outside. 

In 1897, several years before, bleachers collapsed at the game.  Fans fell through the seats and landed on the ground.  Miraculously, only one person was hospitalized.  A local newspaper called it ‘providential chance.’

Fans wouldn’t be as fortunate three years later.  

But that 1900 matchup doesn’t go by a fancy name like ‘The Play.’ 

So I’ll give it one of my own.  ‘The Price.’  I’ll explain.   

In 1900 the annual contest was growing in popularity – 19,000 fans were expected – but the $1 price tag for a ticket (about $40 today) was a bit high for most.  Rather than paying for the price of a ticket, some fans sought alternate venues from which to see the game.  

A contingent of between 500 and 1,000 people (estimates vary) gathered on the roof of the Pacific Glass Works factory across the street from the stadium.  Alas, the roof was not equipped to withstand that much weight, and subsequently collapsed 20 minutes after the game began.  

Nearly 100 people fell four stories to the factory floor.  Nearly that many more fell directly on top of a furnace that had a surface temperature approaching 500 degrees Fahrenheit.  

As one would expect, things didn’t end well.  Screams from inside the building were drowned out by the bands from the two universities.  Burned and mutilated bodies were scattered all over the factory floor.

Meanwhile, the game went on as usual.  It seems the people inside the stadium were oblivious to what was happening outside.    

Thirteen fans lost their lives on the day of the disaster.  In the days to follow, another 10 people died.  All of the fatalities were either boys or young men, ranging in age from nine months to 46 years.  

The reporting of the day’s events varied from one publication to the next. 

• The San Francisco Chronicle said the game was one of the ‘closest and most exciting game of football ever played by the elevens (teams) of the two California universities.’

• On the other side of the coin, the San Francisco Call reported it as ‘perhaps the most horrifying accident that ever happened in San Francisco.’  

• The Stanford Daily made no mention of it whatsoever.

Whether or not the price of a ticket for the game is the reason for the tragedy will never be known.

But it certainly appears to be a contributing factor.

***

$1 for a ticket for a college football in 1900 may not sound like much.  That is, until it’s put into perspective. 

When I was a freshman at the University of Florida, tickets for our five home games cost a total of $5, or one dollar per game.  

One dollar at the turn of the 20^th century compared to one dollar 73 years later doesn’t sound very reasonable to me, especially when inflation is factored in.  You can judge for yourself.    

The point of all this?  If you happened to notice how much tickets were selling for to this year’s National Championship game between Indiana and Miami, you probably understand how out of control things have gotten – especially now that NIL and the transfer portal are consuming the sport.  

Could all of this eventually result in a disaster like the one 126 years ago in San Francisco? 

Only time will tell.