Joe Kapp is fired up. If you know Joe Kapp, this is not a unique state of affairs. We are having breakfast Tuesday at a Willow Glen coffee shop, to discuss the 20th anniversary of Kapp's last game as Cal football coach, among other topics. But before Kapp can even dig into his oatmeal, he is already talking in exclamation points. Two weeks ago, he says, he decided at the last minute to fly south for the USC-Cal game. As the first half progressed, Kapp grew more and more ticked off. `I almost had a fight because these guys kept standing up in front of me!'' Kapp says. ``I told them, `Damn, watch the game!' '' Alas, the Golden Bears did not give Kapp -- who played quarterback on Cal's last Rose Bowl team, in 1959, and later became coach -- many other reasons to scream that evening. The Trojans pulled away in the second half and ruined the Bears' conference-championship hopes. Along with so many other alums, Kapp was disappointed. With the result, not the effort.
``Oh, the players played their hearts out,'' Kapp says. ``The Bear will not quit! The Bear will not die! The Bears have played with spirit and they always have! No matter who the coach is. They played hard for me, too! The players always play hard! And the fans root hard!'' At this point, I am ready to put down my fork and run out to tackle the next vehicle on Lincoln Avenue. That's the effect a Kapp rap can still have. While it is not my place to tell Cal Coach Jeff Tedford how to prepare his team for Saturday's game with Stanford, I will say this much: Between now and kickoff time, if Tedford does not ask Kapp to give the Golden Bears a pep talk, something is wrong. Because those players are missing an experience that will motivate them, inspire them, give them a great lesson in Cal football tradition and make them truly appreciate what school loyalty means. As a bonus, it would also teach them a very important lesson about drinking tequila. ``Let me say this,'' Kapp is telling me, lowering his voice. ``As much credit as I get for all the drinking I did as a player in the NFL, you know what I always did? I always found a driver, found someone who liked to drive and not drink. These rich guys today, rich athletes . . . get a driver! Pay them! Get your cousin!''
Well, that's not exactly the lesson I meant. Although it is certainly a good one. But the lesson I am talking about is the famous promise Kapp made after he was hired as Bears coach before the 1982 season. At his first team meeting, he talked about his goal of winning a conference championship, about how everyone would have to make sacrifices for that to occur.
``But I didn't want the players to think they'd be the only ones making the sacrifices,'' Kapp says, revisiting the moment. ``So I told them I would make a sacrifice, too. I said I would not drink a drop of tequila until we won the Rose Bowl again.'' This was no idle pledge, given Kapp's love of margaritas. To show he meant business, he bought a bottle of his favorite tequila brand, Herradura, and kept it on an office shelf. After he was dismissed following the 1986 season, the bottle was moved to his brother's restaurant in Mountain View, where it still resides. In fact, there is an entire case of Herradura waiting for Cal's return to Pasadena -- which of course, still has not happened. Kapp doesn't want you to think he's thirsty, though. He still has not sipped any tequila. But that has not ruled out other spirits. ``Thank God for Mexican beer and California wine,'' Kapp said. And one day, Kapp swears, tequila will rejoin the party. He calls Tedford ``an outstanding coach'' and notes that ``he is at Cal when the support and the management of the enterprise sees the value of competing.'' That's as opposed to 24 years ago, when Kapp had to make do with sub-par facilities and a relatively indifferent administration. Of course, Kapp's coaching skills were also sometimes called into question. But it would have been fun to see what he could have done with top-notch support. After all, he did still manage to produce some thrilling moments, including the most celebrated play in college football history -- the five-lateral kickoff return that ended the 1982 Big Game. ``The Play'' was no accident, as Kapp has said. Every week in practice, for enjoyment, he had his Bears play a keepaway game called ``grab-ass'' that Kapp had learned while playing Cal basketball for Pete Newell.
The players' instincts took over in the final seconds against Stanford, famously replayed every year with radio announcer Joe Starkey's frenzied description of Kevin Moen running through the Stanford band to victory. ``Twenty-four years later and I still don't know what Joe was saying,'' Kapp says, laughing. As events transpired, that was Kapp's best coaching moment. In 1986, after losing too many games, Kapp was out at Cal. But he had one final moment of glory, leading his 1-9 team to a remarkable upset of a Stanford team that was 7-2 and headed to the Gator Bowl. Afterward, his players carried Kapp off the field. Today, Kapp still looks like a million bucks, owns more energy than any 67-year-old man has a right to own, and enjoys watching games as much as ever. His son, Will, plays at Los Gatos High and will play in a Central Coast Section championship game Friday. Then comes the Big Game on Saturday in Berkeley. Pretty much a perfect weekend for a man who doesn't really need a reason to get excited. ``The strategy of it still fascinates me,'' Kapp said. ``But it is the passion, the visibility of the passion and teamwork, the great example it sets. And `The Play' is the epitome of that, in my opinion. You look at fundamentals and strategy, but overriding all of it is, `Where's the fever? The Bear fever? The corazon, the heart of it?' That's why it is such a great game.'' Then he makes a playful suggestion. ``What if we did a survey in the paper of whether Joe Kapp should get a dispensation from the pope so he can drink tequila again?'' he asks.
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