Rotten Apple: The worst game ever
I have a confession to make. For reasons I can't explain, I attended the 1969 Apple Cup, the mother of bad apples, the one everybody is comparing to 2004.
It brought together Jim Owens' winless, dissension-wracked Washington team and Jim Sweeney's second-year Washington State Cougars, who had nosed past Illinois by a point in their opener and were pretty much miserable the rest of the way, losing every other game as they faced the finale.
Entering Nov. 22, 1969, then: Two teams, one victory.
Says Sweeney, "I know my Montana State team, with Dennis Erickson at quarterback, would have beaten either one of them."
The Huskies had experienced their most trying season in what would be an 18-year reign under Owens. Some of it owed to the schedule; Washington opened at Michigan State, stayed in the Midwest and was routed by Michigan, and returned home the next week to lose 41-14 to an Ohio State team some were comparing to the best in history.
Seven weeks into the winless season, a powder keg exploded.
When Owens asked players individually for a show of "100 percent loyalty" to the team after a disciplinary measure, he concluded four black players didn't pledge that support and suspended them. Community protests alleging racism ensued, eight more black players boycotted the UCLA game, and the Huskies lost 57-14.
Eventually, most players were allowed to return, but the losing continued against Stanford and USC, until the Apple Cup was all that remained.
Ralph Bayard remembers the unusual mood of the week. He was a UW wide receiver, and one of the players suspended and reinstated after two games.
"What I was thinking about the coaches was what they were thinking about me," he says. "It was kind of an uneasy truce, if you will, just to get through the season. Everybody just kind of put that aside and focused on that game."
Sonny Sixkiller, whose passing skills would begin to lead the Huskies out of the abyss in 1970, was a UW freshman then, before freshmen were eligible. He recalls the turbulence of the times — the Vietnam War protests, racial strife, the questioning of old sporting values in a changing society.
"I'm a little kid from Ashland, Oregon, trying to understand this whole thing," he remembers. "Huh, black community, what? It was such a trying time in the social world, with all the upheaval, the war. Books were coming out, like 'Meat on the Hoof.' "
The Cougars' problems, on the other hand, had mostly to do with football. They allowed 61 points at Iowa and in consecutive games in Spokane and Pullman, drew 16,700 and 16,000.
"Bert Clark," Sweeney says of his predecessor at WSU, "left no players."
Each team had some near-misses, none more maddening than the Huskies losing a 10-6 game to Oregon State on a last-second bomb by the Beavers when somebody busted a coverage for Washington.
"Tom Tipps (the defensive coordinator) broke his hand hitting the elevator coming out of the press box," says Bob Burmeister of Mercer Island, a defensive back on that team.
I was a senior at Washington State, apparently without a life. Back then, classes ran into Thanksgiving week, so if you lived on the west side and made the trek across the state for the Apple Cup, you had to do it all over again five days later.
The plan was, I'd go to the game with my dad. But Michigan, of all teams, got in the way. Ohio State, undefeated and heavily favored in Ann Arbor, fell behind 24-12 at halftime to the inspired Wolverines on TV. My dad, an Ohio State grad, was seething.
"I can't leave this," he said abruptly, rifling through the pages of a phone book. He got hold of a co-worker from his office, unloaded his ticket, and I sat at Husky Stadium next to a guy I'd never met in my life.
I remember very little about the game. Not that that's a bad thing.
The records show that Washington jumped on top early on a 35-yard run by halfback Ron Preston. The Cougars answered immediately on a 78-yard pass from Rich Olson to "Forgotten Freddie" Moore.
But the Huskies owned the second quarter, taking a 28-7 halftime lead. Bayard caught an 11-yard touchdown on a "flag" route in the corner of the end zone, then turned what was supposed to be a short catch into a 62-yard score after a WSU safety came up too close.
In a piece of historical curiosity, the Huskies ran the wishbone that year. But for this game, Bayard says, "I think we just threw it out and said, 'We're going to throw the ball.' It just happened. The way the Cougars were defending opened up a lot of opportunities for passing the ball."
Not many, however, by today's standards. Quarterback Gene Willis threw an economical nine passes, completing five for 155 yards, and Washington closed out a 30-21 victory, finally tasting success.
Indeed, some of Sweeney's postgame comments reflect Bayard's recollection.
"I don't believe the kids lost it, and I blame myself personally," he said on the quote sheet. "We keyed more for Cornell (Bo Cornell, the UW running back) and Washington's ground attack, and overlooked their passing. Obviously, the surprise of the day was Washington's passing game."
Still, the Huskies were able to run for 249 yards in a game that was a statistical anomaly. The Cougars had 86 snaps to Washington's 53, and a 25-17 lead in first downs. UW linebacker Clyde Werner was credited with 17 tackles and six assists.
I returned home to find my dad still fuming. Michigan and Ohio State played a scoreless second half, giving the Wolverines one of the biggest upsets in history and the Big Ten's Rose Bowl berth.
No such bid had been on the line at Husky Stadium, where the season's scoreboard of mutual fecklessness was turned off with each team owning a victory apiece.
"But it's an intercollegiate experience; it's ups and downs," insists Burmeister. "Show me anybody who doesn't have adversity in their lives. Thirty-five years later, you remember the guys you played with."
Better them than the details.
"I don't mean to be evasive," says Sweeney, now retired in Fresno, Calif., "but I don't remember a whole lot about that game."
Some would call that selective memory. For both Huskies and Cougars, it may be the best thing.
Bud Withers: 206-464-8281 or bwithers@seattletimes.com