‘The band is out on the field!’ The iconic call that changed Joe Starkey’s life
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adminBERKELEY, Calif. — Joe Starkey thought he had blown the call.
Hours after “the most amazing, sensational, dramatic, heartrending, exciting, thrilling finish in the history of college football,” Starkey attended a neighborhood party near his home in Walnut Creek, California, about 15 miles East of Cal’s Memorial Stadium. The date was Nov. 20, 1982, and Starkey had spent the day calling the Big Game, featuring archrivals Cal and Stanford.
Starkey, the eighth-year radio play-by-play voice for Cal, scrambled to find a highlight of what had happened in the final four seconds, a scene that would become known in sports lore simply as: The Play.
Trailing 20-19, Cal fielded a kickoff with four seconds left. The Bears made five laterals, the last going to Kevin Moen. As Starkey shouted, “The band is out on the field!” Moen weaved through Stanford band members, crossed the goal line and plowed into trombonist Gary Tyrrell.
Final score: Cal 25, Stanford 20.
“I thought I’d screwed it up completely,” Starkey said. “I was too excited, not enough detail.”
Even in the KGO radio booth, amid the mayhem and excitement after Cal’s victory, Starkey felt fear run through him.
“I realized pretty quickly the magnitude of what had happened,” he said. “Now, my fear is, did I do it right? Did I make the call right? Did I screw it up and say something I shouldn’t have, or did I miss something I should have had? That haunted me.”
Eventually, Starkey warmed up to the call that would change his life, the one that will forever be associated with him. He’s called Super Bowls as the San Francisco 49ers radio play-by-play voice. While working for ABC at the 1980 Winter Olympics, he did an impromptu call of the third period of the U.S.-Russia “Miracle On Ice” game, which aired on ABC’s West Coast radio affiliates.
But no single moment will compare to the one 40 years ago in Strawberry Canyon. The one that got him recognized on the streets of Tokyo and in a hotel pool in Rome with the drummer for the Rolling Stones. Now 81, Starkey will call his final Big Game this week as he prepares for retirement after 48 seasons as the voice of the Bears.
“They’re going to bury me with it,” Starkey said of his famous call. “It will be the first words when I die in the obituary. It lives on forever, apparently. This is 40 years later, and it’s starting all over again.”
NOVEMBER 20 BEGAN like any other football Saturday for Starkey, then 41. He drove to the game with his wife and sons, and arrived at the stadium two hours before kickoff. Pregame always began an hour before, but Starkey used the extra time to finalize his notes and chat with the broadcasters from Cal’s opponents to gain a nugget or two. He knew plenty about Stanford, especially star quarterback John Elway, the son of college coach Jack Elway, and a high school standout in California.
The booth configuration was standard: Starkey and color commentator Jan Hutchins, a longtime Bay Area sportscaster; producer/engineer Neil Hogue; spotter Jim Starkey, Joe’s 15-year-old son; and a statistician. The broadcast didn’t include a sideline reporter.
“It was one of my first games,” Jim Starkey said. “I had just started spotting for him that year.”
Cal came in at 6-4, Stanford at 5-5. Joe Starkey expected “just a very normal Big Game day with a big crowd.” He’s not one for premonitions about events or potential historic moments, but sensed early on that the 85th Big Game would be special.
“The level of play, the amount of big plays, was so dramatic,” he said. “I’ve always said that even if there was no band on the field and game-winning laterals, it would have been one of the best two or three Big Games I ever saw.”
Cal wide receivers Mariet Ford and Wes Howell made highlight-reel touchdown catches. Elway, whose Pro Football Hall of Fame career featured many clutch drives, converted a fourth-and-17 from Stanford’s 13-yard line with less than a minute left.
“If that’s an incomplete pass, there is no ‘Band on the field,'” Starkey said. “They lose.”
Stanford set up for a field-goal attempt that everyone, including Starkey, expected to be the game winner. But rather than ensure the field-goal attempt would be the final play, Stanford took a timeout with eight seconds left. Mark Harmon converted the 35-yard field goal. Four seconds remained.
“The Stanford assistant coaches, many of whom I’ve known for years, have told me that there was actually a very aggressive shouting match going on between the coaches upstairs as to when they should stop the clock,” Starkey said. “The guys who wanted eight seconds, unfortunately for Stanford, won out over the guys who wanted four seconds.”
Stanford was flagged for excessive celebration after the field goal, a penalty Starkey hated then and hates now. Harmon kicked off from the 25-yard line rather than the 40, creating a shorter distance for Cal to ultimately cover.
“If they don’t get those 15 yards, does that play work?” Starkey said. “Do they actually bring it all the way back?”
STARKEY HAS NEVER rehearsed his calls, even when a significant play is approaching. He came close in 1992 when Jerry Rice was about to set the NFL’s touchdown receptions record, but ended up reacting to the moment in real-time.
As Stanford prepared for the kickoff, Starkey essentially began wrapping up the game, crediting the Cardinal for their drive despite “defeat staring them straight in the face.” He could see Stanford preparing to hoist the Axe, the Big Game’s rivalry trophy, which the Cardinal had won in 1981. He paid no attention to the Stanford band.
Jim Starkey stood up and stretched a bit, ready to pack up his binoculars. He briefly left the booth before returning, sitting to his father’s left as Stanford kicked off. Joe’s wife, Diane, sitting not far from the KGO booth, remembers seeing groups of fans leaving early.
“It wasn’t like, you think 40 years later, this was going to be such a momentous event,” Diane said. “But people said to me later, who were out on the street, people were at intersections and nobody was moving, because they were listening to it on the radio.”
Joe expected a squib kick, which would limit the chances of a long return. That’s what Harmon did.
“The Bears need to get out of bounds,” Starkey began his call, thinking Cal could attempt a Hail Mary if it immediately reached the sideline.
He thought Cal might pull off a successful lateral or two before the play would end. Moen took the kickoff and passed the ball backward to Richard Rodgers, who then found Dwight Garner. The young running back’s knee nearly hit the ground — or did, according to anyone affiliated with Stanford, including a group of players who ran onto the field to celebrate — before he pitched the ball back to Rodgers.
Things were getting interesting, but a Cal touchdown? “I still didn’t believe it,” Starkey said. He continued to watch the ball, which Rodgers had pitched to Ford as the action shifted closer to Stanford’s sideline. By this point, Starkey’s color man and spotter had become irrelevant.
“Strictly me,” Starkey said. “I’m making every bit of the call.”
A split second before three Stanford defenders converged, Ford pitched the ball over his shoulder to Moen at around the Stanford 25-yard line.
“It’s again, serendipity, a fluke, whatever you want to call it,” Starkey said. “When he throws that ball over his shoulder, he is hoping and praying that maybe there’s a Cal guy behind him that can catch this, but he can’t possibly know that.”
This week, Joe Starkey will broadcast his final Big Game for @CalFootball, 40 years after calling The Play. pic.twitter.com/EWJzRLoeo5
— Adam Rittenberg (@ESPNRittenberg) November 13, 2022
The excitement in Starkey’s voice built as the play continued, but after the Ford lateral to Moen, his voice amplified. Stanford band members had entered the field.
“It changes everything. How do I describe this? It’s so bizarre,” Starkey said. “I’ve broadcast nearly 1,000 college and pro football games. I’ve never seen anything that matches what happened at the end of that game. To this day, you’ll see a game where they’ll have laterals at the end of the game, trying to save a play, save a touchdown.
“But the wild card is always the band.”
While Starkey tried to describe the scene before him, Hutchins started screaming, completely immersed in what was unfolding. It was similar in 1972 when, as a young sports reporter in Pittsburgh, Hutchins stood on the sideline at Three Rivers Stadium as Steelers fullback Franco Harris made the “Immaculate Reception” and ran right by him.
He’s grateful his audio track has been edited out of clips that show The Play.
“I was not thinking, I was totally being, which is why I started screaming,” Hutchins said. “They’ve taken my whole soundtrack out because I was gibberish and ruining your chance to hear what Joe had to say. I try to live like this most of the time anyhow, but I was flat-out in the moment. I was not thinking anything.
“I was experiencing what I knew was one of the most fantastic sporting results ever.”
Even while shouting about Moen entering the end zone, Starkey had seen flags fly during the play and posed the essential question: “Will it count?” Would Cal’s win — and Starkey’s incredible call — be wiped away by a penalty on the Bears?
At worst, Starkey had become really excited for nothing. But it was better than the alternative.
“My theory had been, even then as a young broadcaster, is you can always apologize, but do it all the way through the first time,” he said. “If you stop and then it counts, then there’s no record of it, you screwed it up, and now it’s lost for posterity. In any sport, whatever I was doing, it was call the play and feel free to say, ‘Gee folks, I guess I messed that up.'”
Starkey’s rule is why only one call of The Play truly resonates. There had been a local TV broadcast and a Stanford radio broadcast, but both cut off the call midstream, thinking there was no way the touchdown would count.
“The worst thing would be doing what the other broadcasts did,” Starkey said. “They wrote it off too soon.”
Starkey’s eyes locked on the officials. He theorized to the audience that Cal might have made a forward lateral during the return.
“It is louder than you can ever imagine,” Jim Starkey said. “Half the stadium, the red is not believing it, and the blue is saying, ‘It happened.’ You had the band on the field, all these bodies, and since I had binoculars, I saw [Moen] running into the end zone. But you still don’t know if it’s truly going to happen because it’s just chaos.”
The crew congregated around referee Charles Moffett, who confirmed Moen had crossed the goal line, that every lateral was legal and that the penalty was against Stanford for players and band members entering the field. Moffett raised his arms: Touchdown.
“I get kind of wacky and scream and yell,” Joe Starkey said.
He then delivered the famous summation of The Play: “The most amazing, sensational, dramatic, heartrending, exciting, thrilling finish in the history of college football. California has won the Big Game over Stanford!”
November 20th is the 40th anniversary of when Cal improbably took down Stanford and its band with an infamous kick return.
WHEN DIANE STARKEY saw her husband after he finished his postgame duties, she joked, “I bet you’re excited about this one.” But she could tell Joe, always the self critic, thought he’d left out too many details in the call. He had hit the emotional notes, but worried he missed something big. Then, Diane heard the replay.
“Amazing, unbelievable, I didn’t realize he knew that many adjectives,” said Diane, a longtime school teacher. “It was a true moment, full of real emotion, and people react to that. This man is so excited about the team he loves.
“He’s always been on the more emotional side of broadcasting.”
Starkey immediately recognized The Play and his call would resonate, but he thought it would be confined to the Bay Area or the West Coast. For a while, he was right.
Sports broadcasts were different in 1982. Media mechanics didn’t allow clips to go viral, even ones that would belong among the most famous playcalls in sports history.
But the elements and emotion attached to one of the most incredible unscripted sporting moments eventually broke through the media barriers of the time and reached a larger audience. The call also made Starkey into a celebrity.
Once, Starkey and Diane were vacationing in Tokyo when a Cal fan spotted him and said, “Oh, Joe Starkey, the band is on the field.” The same thing happened when they went to Athens.
“He’s been recognized in all sorts of places,” Diane said.
In 1987, Starkey and Diane took their youngest son Rob, then 11, on a summer trip to Italy and Greece. The vacation ended in Rome at the Cavalieri Hilton hotel. On a blisteringly hot day, Starkey’s wife and son decided to take a nap, so he grabbed a book and went down to the hotel pool.
While Starkey read poolside, the Rolling Stones, who were performing in Rome, and their families sat down next to him. Starkey and Charlie Watts, the Stones’ legendary drummer, struck up a conversation about the band’s tour through Europe.
“Then he says, ‘Ya know, mate, it really is hot, you want to go in the pool?'” Starkey said. “I said, ‘Hell yes.'”
They went to the shallow end of the pool and continued to talk more about music and the Stones, a passion for Starkey. As they chatted, Lou Ferrigno, the actor and bodybuilder, and star on the TV show “The Incredible Hulk,” joined them.
At this moment another man jumped into the pool and started swimming toward them. As he approached from the other side, Watts lamented that fans just wouldn’t leave them alone.
“The guy comes up to the three of us and says, ‘Aren’t you the Cal football announcer?'” Starkey said, laughing. “Charlie said, ‘What’s that all about?’ I said, ‘I broadcast college football. He’s obviously a Berkeley guy.’ I didn’t go into all the stuff about the laterals.
“He wouldn’t have cared. He’s from England.”
Soon after the 1982 Big Game, people began calling KGO radio, asking for tapes of The Play. As sports director, Starkey realized he couldn’t keep asking for copies to be sent out. Plus, since ABC owned the rights, there were legal hurdles to jump over before distributing.
Starkey approached KGO’s station manager with a plan: Transfer him the rights to The Play. He would arrange for the tapes to be produced and would sell them solely at the manufacturing cost.
“I said, ‘I guarantee you I will not do it for money, strictly for cost,'” Starkey said. “So he says, ‘Gimme a buck.’ So I’ve had the rights to The Play for 40 years for a dollar. It hasn’t made me a lot of money, but there have been commercials over the years where people wanted to use it and they had to pay me whatever rates.
“But it’s basically been my play.”
Jim Starkey understood his dad’s initial angst about the call.
“As a professional broadcaster, you’re always supposed to paint the picture, especially in radio, and he’s very studious about that,” Jim said. “He knows the numbers, he’s always very good about knowing both teams, and college teams have a lot of players. I think there are no names actually said in the [call].
“It was right for the moment, but if you look at it in a classroom, you’d probably say, ‘Not the way it’s supposed to go.'”
As the years went by, Starkey warmed up to his call. He now considers it his co-favorite, along with a 25-yard touchdown pass to Terrell Owens that lifted the 49ers past the Green Bay Packers in the 1999 NFL playoffs, a play known as “The Catch II,” after Dwight Clark’s original 17 years earlier.
The USA-Russia Olympic hockey call also sticks with Starkey, who “used a lot of the same adjectives” as he did for The Play.
“It was so unique,” Hutchins said. “It would have been easy for him to get carried away or to get lost, but he stayed in his broadcaster brain the whole way through that thing. It was kind of funny to me, my reaction versus his, but it was evidence and a testimony to just how professional he always was.”
The way Starkey described The Play jibed with his general broadcast style. He wasn’t a football lifer, like others in the booth. The Chicago native played second-string in junior college but had no football broadcasting experience before landing the Cal job in 1975. Starkey had worked in banking in Los Angeles and the Bay Area before breaking into sports broadcasting, his dream job.
“I tend to be a fan in moments like that, where I really kind of let it loose,” he said. “You hope you don’t lose the detail by just screaming and yelling, but I have no problem with being excited about a particular moment. There’s such exuberance and astonishment in the call.
“People get caught up in that and appreciate the pure drama of what was going on.”
Despite his initial angst about the call, Starkey embraces its significance, both personally and historically. The call is an identifier and an icebreaker — “Apparently nuns in convents know The Play,” he jokes — and so distinct that it will never be replicated.
Four decades later, Starkey’s call has a place in sports history, and has far exceeded his initial assessment.
“The things I said and didn’t say, I thought made sense after a while,” he said. “As the years went on, I realized, ‘No, that’s exactly the way you should have done it,’ to capture the excitement of the moment and the mystique that built up around it as this absolutely unique football play.”
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Sports
How a Sugar Bowl scramble exemplified the best of Riley Leonard at Notre Dame
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7 hours agoon
January 9, 2025By
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David Hale, ESPN Staff WriterJan 9, 2025, 07:00 AM ET
Close- College football reporter.
- Joined ESPN in 2012.
- Graduate of the University of Delaware.
The easiest way to understand why quarterback Riley Leonard has Notre Dame on the verge of its first national title game in more than a decade is to watch him run.
Really, any run will do. But perhaps the best — or at least, most recent — example is the run on third-and-7 with 5:53 left in the Allstate Sugar Bowl. The Irish were nursing a 23-10 lead, chewing up the final minutes in a game of keep-away, and Leonard needed a conversion. He took the snap, took a half-step forward, then tucked the ball and darted outside. He slid out of a tackle behind the line with a stiff-arm, then outran a defender to the perimeter. At the line to gain, he met Georgia star Malaki Starks head-on. Starks went low. Leonard leaped — flew almost — in a head-first jailbreak for the marker.
Leonard soared over Starks, landed 3 yards beyond the line-to-gain, popped up with the ball in his hand and signaled for the first down.
The crowd went wild. His teammates went wild. Leonard, the kid from a little town in southwest Alabama, at least reached something close to wild.
“Everybody keeps telling me to stop doing that,” Leonard said of the hard run. “I did it. And it worked out. But we’re in the playoffs, so it’s like — put your butt on the line.”
Notre Dame QB Riley Leonard flipped over him for the first down 😯 pic.twitter.com/p1JNgmQOCw
— ESPN (@espn) January 3, 2025
Notre Dame’s drive ate another four minutes off the clock, and after stuffing Georgia on downs, the Irish celebrated a Sugar Bowl win — their biggest victory in more than 30 years. Now, their next biggest game is a date with Penn State in the playoff semifinals on Thursday in the Capital One Orange Bowl (7:30 p.m. ET on ESPN).
Notre Dame is here for many reasons, but perhaps the biggest one is Leonard’s drive to win at all costs. Not that anyone doubted Leonard’s competitiveness when he arrived at Notre Dame in January as an injured transfer from Duke. But what he has shown in the past three months since the Irish last lost a football game — a loss Leonard took full responsibility for — is that he’ll put his butt, his shoulder, his head and anything else he needs to on the line if it means winning a football game.
“It’s in his DNA,” said offensive coordinator Mike Denbrock. “I knew he was a competitive guy. That’s a strong trait we knew he had. But it’s so much greater than I’d imagined. He’s a winner, and he brings people around him to his level. And I think that’s the biggest compliment you can give a quarterback.”
Those runs like the Sugar Bowl scramble are the height of playoff football, but Leonard has been doing this since he was young. He played some wide receiver growing up, and he loved going across the middle. He torments defenders at practice, teammate RJ Oben said, because he’ll run hard even wearing a noncontact jersey. He played baseball, too, and his father, Chad, jokes that Riley knew how to slide feet-first then, but he refuses to do it on the football field.
“I hold my breath waiting for him to get up,” said Heather Leonard, his mother, “but when they need something, he’s always going to get it.”
It’s the dichotomy of Riley’s approach. He is overlooked, polite, smiley and understated, and yet at the same time he’s utterly driven to win at a level even other players find hard to capture.
Perhaps that’s the secret to those runs. He’s underestimated, and he’s relentless.
“I don’t understand why I’m hard to tackle, honestly,” Leonard said. “I don’t have very good juke moves. I’m very tall. Not intimidating, at least on the field. But guys just miss.”
Plenty of people missed on Leonard coming out of high school.
Back in Fairhope, Alabama, he played football and baseball, but basketball was his passion. College basketball was the dream until COVID-19 hit and scuttled Leonard’s best opportunities to impress college recruiters. That’s when he started to seriously consider football as an alternative. Turns out, one of his coaches was pals with former Duke coach David Cutcliffe, who liked what he saw in Leonard. Duke was Leonard’s only FBS scholarship offer.
Leonard’s first college start came on Nov. 13, 2021. It was 17 degrees in Blacksburg, Virginia. Winds swirled, and the crowd was ferocious. Leonard was so out of sorts, he forgot his mouthguard leaving the locker room, then amid the team’s run onto the field for kickoff, he turned and retreated, pushing his way through a sea of charging teammates to retrieve it, like an overwhelmed performer retreating from the stage.
Leonard threw for just 84 yards in that game. Three weeks later, Cutcliffe was fired at Duke after the team finished 3-9. Mike Elko arrived for 2022, and Leonard opened fall camp that year in the midst of a QB competition, which he narrowly won before the opener.
He won that game. Then another. And he kept on winning.
Duke finished 2022 a surprising 9-4, Leonard started gaining legitimate attention from NFL scouts, and after upending Clemson in the 2023 opener, the attention reached a fever pitch.
None of it fazed the kid from Fairhope.
Back in his high school days, he began a tradition with his mom. He wanted to avoid the pitfalls of success and stay grounded in the work, so he asked her to text him with the same message before every game: “You suck.” He now wears a green wristband with the same words. Leonard’s biggest fear has always been forgetting how hard it is to win. Appreciating the difficulty is his secret weapon.
Football delivered another reminder of its fickle nature just as the wave of Riley-mania reached its zenith in Durham. Duke was 4-0, and Leonard had the Blue Devils on the brink of a program-defining win over Notre Dame. But the Irish broke a late run to take the lead, Leonard injured his ankle in a failed comeback attempt, and over the next eight months, he struggled to get back on the field, endured three surgeries, and ultimately transferred to South Bend, joining the program that had effectively ended his miraculous run at Duke.
For Leonard, Notre Dame represented a chance to finish his college career at a level that might have seemed unimaginable when it began.
“I wanted an opportunity to reach my potential as a player,” he said. “I’m at a point in my career now where I have the most confidence in my game. I understand this offense probably more than any offense I’ve ever been in.”
It didn’t start out that way though.
Notre Dame opened its season with a hard-fought win over Texas A&M, but one in which Leonard and the offense struggled to move the ball through the air. A week later, the one-dimensional attack proved costly. Northern Illinois‘ defense utterly flummoxed Leonard, and the Huskies stunned Notre Dame 16-14. It was arguably the biggest upset of the college football season, and any hopes for the playoff were on life support.
That version of Riley Leonard looked lost.
“I don’t even think I’d recognize the player that was playing earlier on in the season,” he said recently.
Leonard isn’t into making excuses, but he had missed all of spring practice and much of the summer. He simply hadn’t had enough reps with his new team. He was frustrated — even if he rarely let it show, Heather said.
“That was one of the hardest weeks of his life,” Heather said. “It definitely took a toll on him, but he also knew he had to move on.”
Leonard promised his team he’d be better. He took the blame for the loss, and he assured his teammates he’d approach the rest of the season the same way he does those third-down runs. He would leave nothing in the tank.
“He took it on his shoulders,” said tight end Mitchell Evans. “You could see it in the way he practices, his mindset, his confidence — he has grown in a remarkable way. That’s what you have to do to be the Notre Dame quarterback.”
After four games, Leonard had yet to throw a touchdown pass in a Notre Dame uniform.
But in the 10 games since, Leonard has completed 68% of his throws, has an 81.1 Total QBR, and has 17 touchdown passes to just four picks. And the 13-1 Irish haven’t lost again.
“Riley has shaken off the ‘he’s just a runner’ thing people were saying about him,” said tailback Jeremiyah Love, “and we’re more explosive in the passing game. The running game is better than it was, and the offensive line has come together. We’re way better now.”
And so what if it was still a run — a hard, physical, acrobatic run — that served as Leonard’s highlight in Notre Dame’s biggest win of the year? He was hurting after the NIU loss because he felt like he had let his team down, but he had never listened to any of the criticism about his arm. He said he doesn’t care how he’s perceived.
“The moment I start to say I need to throw this many yards or score this many touchdowns is when I get off track,” he said. “My job is to win the football game however that may look.”
He is two victories away from claiming his place among the greatest winners in the history of one of college football’s most storied programs. That’s a long way from the basketball courts in Fairhope.
But Leonard has never paid much attention to how far off his destination might seem. He likes to dream big, and if there are obstacles in his way, well, Georgia’s defenders found out how that goes.
The one thing that has changed in the waning moments of his unlikely college football career is Leonard is trying to take some time to reflect.
“I don’t think I would’ve written the story any differently,” Leonard said. “It’s cool now to go back and look at it. I don’t really do that too often, but I’m very proud of the person I’ve grown into.”
He still hasn’t watched film from that NIU game, but he said he will once the year’s over, because it’s a moment he now cherishes, one that helped him get to where he is now. It’s supposed to be difficult, he said. That’s what makes it fun.
“I try to remind myself to appreciate it — like, you’re living your dream,” he said. “I don’t want to live my dream and then end up thinking you shouldn’t have taken that for granted. But moments like these make me appreciate it.”
Sports
Can Penn State coach James Franklin win the big one?
Published
7 hours agoon
January 9, 2025By
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Heather Dinich, Senior College Football InsiderJan 9, 2025, 07:00 AM ET
Close- College football reporter
- Joined ESPN.com in 2007
- Graduate of Indiana University
There’s no sugarcoating it: As Penn State‘s coach, James Franklin owns an abysmal 4-19 record against opponents ranked in the Associated Press top 10 — and is just 3-10 in such games when his team is also in the top 10.
It’s a mark that saw a small but significant boost with Penn State’s resounding 31-14 College Football Playoff quarterfinal win against No. 8-ranked Boise State in the VRBO Fiesta Bowl, but with each step forward in the CFP bracket comes a greater opportunity — and louder doubters about Franklin’s ability to beat the best.
As the Big Ten runner-up and No. 6 seed in the College Football Playoff, the narrative surrounding Penn State was that they had arguably the easiest path to the national title — a home game against overmatched No. 11 seed SMU, followed by a matchup against Mountain West Conference champion and No. 3 seed Boise State. The Nittany Lions outscored their first two playoff opponents by a combined 69-24.
Now Franklin is two wins away from the school’s first national championship since 1986, but in order to win it, he has to do something that has eluded him during most of his career: beat a top-5 team. He is 1-14 at Penn State against AP Top-5 teams, the lone win coming in 2016 against No. 2 Ohio State. By comparison, former Alabama coach Nick Saban (30-16), former Ohio State coach Urban Meyer (14-5) and Georgia coach Kirby Smart (11-7) all have winning records against AP Top-5 opponents, according to ESPN Research. Ohio State coach Ryan Day, though, is 5-6 against them, and former Penn State coach Joe Paterno was 3-12 in his first 15 games against AP Top-5 teams at Penn State.
Franklin is also 0-5 against teams ranked in the top five by the CFP selection committee, and he has lost those games by an average of 20.4 points according to ESPN Research. The Nittany Lions will face Notre Dame (No. 3 AP/No. 5 CFP) on Thursday in a College Football Playoff semifinal at the Capital One Orange Bowl (7:30 p.m. ET, ESPN) in what is undoubtedly the biggest game of Franklin’s career.
Franklin “understands” his fans’ frustration. He declined to comment for this story but said this following a 20-13 loss to No. 4 Ohio State on Nov. 2: “Nobody is looking in the mirror harder than I am. I’ve said this before, but 99% of the programs across college football would die to do what we’ve been able to do in our time here.”
Despite his struggles against top teams, Franklin enters the Orange Bowl with a record of 101-41 and is 64-33 in the Big Ten over the past decade in State College. That includes five top-10 finishes, a Big Ten title (2016) and regular appearances in New Year’s Six bowl games. Under Franklin, Penn State joins Alabama, Georgia and Ohio State as the only programs that have ranked in the selection committee’s final top 12 at least seven of the past nine seasons.
He has six years left on his contract and the support of his administration.
“I’m not going to give credence to the criticism, because I see it differently,” said Penn State athletic director Patrick Kraft, who was hired at Penn State on July 1, 2022 after serving two years as the athletic director at Boston College. “When I got here, I was really surprised where just the infrastructure and how everything was set up, how behind we really were. Yes, wins and losses are what we are all judged on, but I will tell you, the culture of that building and the young men he brings in and graduates are second to none.
“You don’t see behind the curtain as a fan or just someone watching,” Kraft said, “and when you get behind the curtain, the thing that oozes out for me is culture and family. That’s really how it’s built, but the infrastructure behind it wasn’t matching that culture and we still have a ways to go. So yes, we want to win every single game — that’s the expectation for every program, but to see what he has done and that consistency is what’s remarkable to me.”
As a former Big Ten head coach who spent seven seasons leading Indiana, first-year Penn State defensive coordinator Tom Allen has studied the Nittany Lions from the inside out. He has game-planned against Franklin, and now he’s trying to help Franklin win his first national title. Allen heard Franklin’s critics when he was at Indiana, and he has heard them again as a member of Franklin’s staff.
“Now that I’m here and I see the behind-the-scenes and the day-to-day and see how much of a bulldog he is — that’s the word I use — he’s a bulldog for the details and the little things and just being on top of everything,” Allen said. “To me, those criticisms, they’re not fair, but until you win those big games, they’re going to be there. And I think we all as coaches understand that.”
What Franklin has accomplished so far is often overshadowed by what he hasn’t. According to ESPN Research, when Franklin won his 100th game at Penn State in the first-round against SMU, he became the fourth FBS coach to win 100 games at a single school since he headed to State College in 2014. The career milestone put him in elite company, joining Dabo Swinney at Clemson (129 since 2014), Nick Saban at Alabama (127 from 2014-23) and Kirby Smart at Georgia (105 since 2016).
There’s one thing separating Franklin from the rest of the group, though — multiple national titles.
“We don’t run away from the expectation,” Kraft said. “Being the head coach of Penn State, there’s so much scrutiny on him and he handles it really well internally. He and I are partners in this.”
One current Big Ten head coach said the expectations of Franklin should mirror the resources he has to work with.
“Ryan Day has been in championships, Clemson has been in championships, Bama has won them, Michigan has won them,” he said. “If the Penn State expectation is they should have at least played for championships in 10 years of his tenure, then no, he’s not successful, right? If their expectation is, ‘Hey, we only have resourced him to be a 10-win team, January 1 bowl team, right at the bottom of the blue bloods from a resource standpoint — which I don’t know — then yeah, he matches the expectations of a 10-win guy. If you’re a blue blood, are you being resourced like Clemson, like Michigan, like Ohio State, like the people we’re comparing them to, because it’s not fair to have that expectation if he hasn’t had the resources.”
Kraft said so much of Penn State’s growth under Franklin has come behind the scenes with things like working to build the budget for NIL, salaries for assistant coaches, stadium renovations and improvements for Penn State’s student-athletes in all sports in areas such as mental health, nutrition and travel — all things that ultimately contribute to winning a national title but happen off the field.
“You have to build the infrastructure in-house,” Kraft said. “That is what I think has really improved is allowing him — and all of our sports — to go and do the things they need to do internally to get to the championship level.”
A second Big Ten head coach said the most noticeable improvements with Penn State and Franklin this year are twofold: the hire of two proven coordinators in Allen and offensive coordinator Andy Kotelnicki, and Franklin’s overall growth as a head coach in certain situations.
“James has surrounded himself, in my opinion, with maybe the best coordinator combo in our league,” the source said. “Now James has been able to manage games and do the things he’s good at for the first time. He’s at a different level as a head coach.
“I get it, I get the narrative,” the coach said, “but that’s probably based on more of the past than the present. Even him having a better understanding of how you’ve got to use your players. He’s been at Penn State so long, he’s always been the favorite, so when he gets in these games where he’s the underdog, you’ve got to not only play different, you’ve got to strategize different. And when he ran that fake punt against Minnesota … I don’t think he’s ever had to do that before, and he’s kind of realizing, this is what I’ve got to do to win this game. I can’t just win it on my talent alone. And there’s a learning curve for that.”
Kotelnicki said Franklin doesn’t get enough credit for being as consistently good as he has. From 2016 to 2019, Franklin led Penn State to 42 wins, the most in program history for the Big Ten era, and a school-record 28 conference wins.
“It’s really hard to win, and to do it over a decade like he has as a head football coach here, it’s really hard,” Kotelnicki said in the Nittany Lions’ locker room following their win against Boise State. “I’ve had the opportunity in my life to work with some pretty good head coaches. He’s in elite company for sure. So I don’t know if [beating Boise State] is going to silence the critics — probably not. … But I hope it does [calm down] a little bit for his sake. He deserves a little, ‘Alright, OK, I guess he’s OK.'”
Penn State’s defense was more than “OK” in the Fiesta Bowl win against Boise State, and it will have to play at a championship-caliber level for Franklin to improve his record and advance against the Irish. According to ESPN Research, the defense is at the heart of Penn State’s problem in previous top-10 matchups. The Nittany Lions have allowed 31 points per game in those matchups and 422 total yards. The defense has also allowed 190 rushing yards per game under Franklin in top-10 matchups.
Against Boise State and Ashton Jeanty, the Heisman runner-up was held to a season-low 104 rushing yards. That trend will need to continue: Notre Dame has relied on its running game this season, ranking in the top five in yards per rush and rushing touchdowns.
Penn State will be playing its third AP Top-5 matchup of the season, losing the previous two games against Ohio State and Oregon. The program’s woes run deeper than Franklin, too: The Nittany Lions haven’t won a top-five matchup since 1999 against No. 4 Arizona.
“You just have to do a great job of blocking that out, but also not being afraid to dig and find ways to create change,” Allen said. “That’s what I see him doing, is, ‘Hey, what can we do?’ and there’s this constant evaluation of how we practice, the game plans if something doesn’t go a certain way. I see him just being so relentless in that as the leader of our program. So to me, I just think it’s a matter of time.”
Sports
‘I get to be one of the funny trivia answers!’ Meet the only NHL teammate of Ovechkin and Gretzky
Published
9 hours agoon
January 9, 2025By
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Greg Wyshynski, Senior NHL writerJan 9, 2025, 07:00 AM ET
Close- Greg Wyshynski is ESPN’s senior NHL writer.
Wayne Gretzky scored 894 goals in 1,487 career NHL games. Alex Ovechkin is poised to shatter that record, having scored 872 times in 1,451 games through Wednesday night.
That’s a combined 2,938 career games played between the two players, sharing the ice with hundreds of teammates, spanning from Hall of Famers to one-night wonders. Yet there’s only one player in NHL history that was a teammate to both Wayne Gretzky and Alex Ovechkin.
His name is Mike Knuble, a winger who played 16 hardscrabble seasons in the NHL. And he was as surprised as you are to learn he’s the unexpected link between two hockey legends whose careers didn’t overlap.
“I get to be one of the funny trivia answers! Got to put that in Trivial Pursuit or a bar game or something,” he told ESPN recently, with a laugh.
As Ovechkin neared the Gretzky record, Knuble started wondering whether he was the only player to have skated with both the Washington Capitals star and The Great One as a teammate.
“I kind of was spitballing with somebody: ‘Well, who’s played in Washington and with the New York Rangers that’s also about my age?’ I’m like, ‘There’s nobody really. So maybe it’s just me,'” he said.
Knuble was a 26-year-old forward with the New York Rangers in 1998-99, the final season of Gretzky’s career. He played three seasons with Ovechkin in Washington (2009-10 through 2011-12) before finishing his career at age 40 with the Philadelphia Flyers.
“The fact that Ovi is nipping at Gretzky’s heels is just crazy,” Knuble said.
Gretzky was in his elder statesman era with the Rangers, and Knuble got to witness the mania when it was announced he was retiring after 20 seasons. But Knuble was the elder statesmen when he arrived in Washington to find a 24-year-rock star in Ovechkin, who had just won his first Hart Trophy and scoring title, as the face of the Capitals’ “Young Guns” resurgence.
“I just felt so fortunate to play with them. They’re both such superstars,” he said.
In the process, Knuble became someone uniquely qualified to compare, contrast and analyze the two greatest goal scorers in NHL history as teammates.
KNUBLE WAS DRAFTED 76th overall by the Detroit Red Wings in 1991. After four seasons at the University of Michigan, and some time in the AHL, he joined the Red Wings as a rookie in 1996-97.
Knuble was no goal-scoring slouch, tallying 278 times in 1,068 NHL games, but he had a different approach to that art than Gretzky or Ovechkin did: He was famous for parking himself inches from the goaltender’s crease and scoring short-distance goals while being mauled by opposing defensemen.
“[Hockey Hall of Famer] Dino Ciccarelli was the pioneer of that. He was undersized, under-gunned and got the s— beat out of him all the time,” Knuble said. “He scored 600 goals back when they could be really mean to you. I went [to the crease] when they weren’t as mean.”
Knuble chuckles when he sees goal-scoring heat maps in coaches’ offices that show an intense crimson around the crease.
“I’ll be talking to young players and I draw the East Coast of the United States. I draw Florida and then I draw Cuba and then a draw a big shark further away,” he said. “And I’m like, ‘If all the fish are right here between Florida and Cuba, why would you be swimming all the way over here if you’re a shark and you’re hungry? All the fish are right here! Go to where the fish are!'”
For most of the 1980s and 1990s, the fish were wherever Wayne Gretzky had the puck on his stick.
Knuble had never met Gretzky before, but he was a fan — not just as a kid growing up in Toronto, but as an adult playing in the NHL.
Before the 1998 Olympics, he cornered Red Wings captain Steve Yzerman in the weight room to sheepishly ask if he might bring home a signed Gretzky stick from Nagano, Japan. Knuble was stunned when Yzerman returned with a personalized autographed stick, the butt end burned with an Olympic logo that incorporated Gretzky’s initials into it.
A few months later, the Red Wings traded Knuble to the Rangers for a second-round draft pick. Which meant the guy asking for Wayne Gretzky’s autograph was now Wayne Gretzky’s teammate.
“You see his jersey and you see your jersey, and it’s the same color as his. And you’re just like, ‘Holy s— here we go,'” Knuble said. “I remember saying my hellos and then just sitting in my stall, not talking to him for a couple of weeks. I was quiet on the bus with him, too. I’d just sit and listen to his recollections about his time in Edmonton, dropping names and telling stories.”
Time with Gretzky away from the rink was fleeting. There were cities on the road where Gretzky could grab dinner with his teammates and not get mobbed — mostly “non-traditional” hockey markets, according to Knuble — but everywhere else, fans would swarm the most famous hockey player in the world.
“He’d give the time, but it wasn’t going to be too much time. He knew how to handle that balance,” he said.
Gretzky wasn’t a boisterous presence in the Rangers’ dressing room. That’s partially because the Rangers had other leaders to whom he would defer, such as captain Brian Leetch. “He wasn’t trying to outshine anyone. But everyone knew that when he wanted to say something, the floor was his,” Knuble said.
Knuble wasn’t a primary linemate for Gretzky during his time with the Rangers. He’d watch from the bench as The Great One operated from his office behind the opponent’s net, and wait for his chance to join the Gretzky scoring ledger.
“You’re just hoping that he scored and you got a point with him. You just want to hear your name linked with him,” said Knuble, who scored two goals assisted by Gretzky in 1998-99.
Those goals by Knuble were some of the final points collected by Gretzky in his legendary career. That season would be his last.
The Rangers weren’t going to make the playoffs that season. As the games dwindled on the schedule, the speculation about Gretzky’s future grew louder. Knuble remembers the Rangers players purposefully avoiding the topic inside the room, but then it happened: It was officially announced very late in the season that Gretzky would be retiring.
The Rangers’ next game after that announcement was at the Ottawa Senators on April 15, 1999.
“We were in Ottawa and the Canadian National Guard surrounded our hotel because it was his last game in Canada,” Knuble recalled. “I’ll never forget coming out of the hotel for the game and seeing guys with rifles.”
The hotel restricted access to guests only, having people show some form of ID to get into the lobby, which was still jam-packed with people trying to find Gretzky. The Rangers’ bus would park in front of the hotel, drawing all of the attention from fans as Gretzky found another exit.
“Wayne was always really good about going out the back door, sending diversion out in the front, and then he’d slip out,” Knuble said. “And I’m sure Alex got good at playing those games, too.”
KNUBLE CURRENTLY COACHES teenage hockey players in Michigan. They know about his NHL career. They’ll ask whether he has Alex Ovechkin in his phone contacts list.
“I’ll show it to them and tell them that he’s probably changed his number like eight times. But go ahead and call him. Go knock yourselves out,” he said, laughing. “But I’m super proud to have it. The kids appreciate that. It’s a good cocktail party conversation, too.”
Knuble was in his third NHL season when he became Gretzky’s teammate. He was entering his 13th season when he signed with the Capitals as a free agent in 2009, having previously battled against Ovechkin & Co. as a member of the Flyers.
As much as he knew about Gretzky before becoming his teammate, Knuble knew little about Ovechkin before joining him.
“There was a little bit of mystery,” he said.
Ovechkin had scored 219 goals in his first four NHL seasons and would add another 50 goals to that total in Knuble’s first season in Washington. He skated fast, blasted more shots than anyone in the league and hit like a truck. He was a force of nature. Knuble said one of his biggest challenges as a teammate was not to be in awe of Ovechkin’s abilities.
“As a player you had to be very careful that you didn’t defer to him too much. You knew what he could do, but it wasn’t like ‘force it, force it, force it’ to him all the time,” he said. “I think you had to get him the puck when you could and do some of the legwork. But when you had a chance — and you were in a high-end, high percentage scoring area — you had to shoot the puck. You couldn’t defer all the time.”
Knuble assisted on 14 goals by Ovechkin during his 220 games with the Capitals.
“I think the biggest thing is you didn’t want to slow him down. He’s trending to be a hundred-point guy, and now you’re playing with him, you’re linked to him, you don’t want his percentage go down,” Knuble explained. “If he’s down to an 80-point pace, well, who are they going to point the finger at? It’s not because of him, it’s because of me. So you didn’t want to be that guy.”
Off the ice, the two didn’t spend much time together. Knuble was older and had children. Ovechkin hung with younger players, a crew who all grew up together on the Capitals. Knuble understood the dynamics.
“When I was in Detroit, it wasn’t like I was hanging out with Yzerman. You’re with your peers,” he said. “Maybe there’s the odd time you end up at the same restaurant or you have a team event where you hang out, but your boys are your boys.”
As he watched Ovechkin continue to pile on goals, playing with a variety of teammates — Knuble, for the record, thinks Ovechkin might already have the record if Nicklas Backstrom could have remained healthy — he figured Ovechkin had a shot at catching Gretzky if his body cooperated.
“If he stayed healthy, with the way he finishes … could he be second or third all-time? And then he stayed really healthy and kept playing well,” Knuble said. “He’s always been blessed with great health on the ice, where nothing super fluky happened to him. The most impressive thing about him is his longevity.”
Ovechkin’s maturity was a factor in that longevity, according to Knuble.
“I think Alex has just stood the test of time a little bit. You’re a young guy, you kind of live hard on and off the ice, and then when you’re older you realize, ‘I can’t be doing this as much,'” he said.
Finally hoisting something other than an individual trophy also helped.
“I think winning a Stanley Cup was really big for him, too. I think that was a big feather in his cap. You don’t want to be a golfer that’s never won a major, you know?” Knuble said. “I think him winning the team thing was just basically the last box he needed to check.”
Ovechkin is now older (39) than Gretzky was (38) when Knuble played with him in New York. The Capitals captain has matured, but Knuble still sees that spark of youth in his game as he chases Gretzky’s record.
“It’s fun to see him just happy, see him in his joy,” he said. “I think when he was younger, the joy that carried him was the most noticeable thing. Eventually you get older and the joy settles down a little bit, but still he plays with so much of it.”
KNUBLE ADMITS THAT Ovechkin and Gretzky are “different in the way they do their things,” but share one key similarity: the way the understood their responsibilities in selling the sport they love.
“Wayne was very good at being an ambassador of the game. He knew that it’s super inconvenient for him, but he’s going to do it with a smile on his face. He’s not going to bitch about it. It’s his job to move the game forward,” he said. “Alex is pretty good about that stuff too. And it was hard for him. He’s not a North American, but certainly Alex has been a great ambassador of the game here.”
Part of being an ambassador of the game is inspiring subsequent generations to pick up a stick or watch a game. Knuble said both players accomplished that during their careers.
“They’ve both been so good to the game, to the NHL and great role models for kids,” he said. “Wayne revamped the game in his way. And then Ovi revamped it again with his way — a little more flash, a little more flare. We all copied Wayne and then kids today copied Ovi.”
There have been other all-time players who starred in their respective eras, from Mario Lemieux to Sidney Crosby to Connor McDavid. But Knuble believes there’s something different about the way Gretzky and Ovechkin have broken through as sports celebrities.
“People coast to coast in the United States know who [Ovechkin] is, and what more can you ask for, especially as a hockey player?” he said. “You go to California and you can be on the beach there playing volleyball and be like, ‘Who’s Alex Ovechkin?’ And they’ll be like, ‘Oh, that Russian dude in D.C., right? Hockey player?’ If you can get that kind of thing, then that’s a successful athlete.”
As Knuble watches the Ovechkin record chase unfold, his thoughts are with Gretzky. He believes The Great One has shown exemplary class in watching an all-time mark potentially fall. Like Gordie Howe did when Gretzky chased his records, Gretzky has blessed Ovechkin’s own record pursuit.
“Wayne’s such an ambassador, saying, ‘Hey, I can’t wait to see this come to fruition. I can’t wait to see him chase it down. I’m going to be there and be thrilled for him when the time comes.’ And that’s not a lie. That’s not bulls—. And it’s just great,” Knuble said. “The league is thrilled that another generational player has come through. It’s just crazy that this even remotely had a chance to happen.”
Almost as crazy as an NHL veteran who kicked around with five different franchises being the only player to have called the top two goal scorers in league history as his teammates.
“I was on the ice with both. Got sticks signed by both. Got to say that I spent with each of them,” he said. “Again, I just feel so fortunate.”
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