The 1970's

Although it has been part and parcel of the sports scene on The Farm formore than 100 years, the completion of the 1998-99 season by the Stanford University women's basketball program represents a significant milestone. To then-head coach Gay Coburn, "25 years ago" seems like "just yesterday". To others, such as Bethany Donaphin, Cori Enghusen, Enjoli Izidor, Lauren St. Clair, and Lindsey Yamasaki - this year's freshman class - 25 years represents more that "a lifetime". Let's go back.

In 1972, Title IX legislature had been ruled "the law of the land" by the Supreme Court, and universities all over the country were in the process of beginning their attempt to comply. Stanford was no different. Mariah ("Maggie") Burton was deciding whether or not to attend Stanford, and in her essay "Escape from Roble", she provides an insiders look at Stanford basketball in the 70's.

Escape from Roble: Cardinal Women’s Basketball Then and Now
By Mariah (formerly Maggie) Burton Nelson

The phone rang. It was Fred Hargadon, Dean of Admissions. It was April1974 and I had not yet accepted Stanford’s invitation to attend. I was an athlete, having played five different sports in high school and having led the Phoenix Dusters, a women’s amateur basketball team, to the Arizona State Championship. Though I had always wanted to go to Stanford, Cornell offered a much better athletic program for women in those days, so I was taking my time making up my mind.

I understand you’re six-two, Dean Hargadon said. I’m six-four myself.It would be nice to have some more tall people on campus.I laughed, charmed. Both of my parents are tall. Lacking any particularEthnic identity of our own, my mother had always taught us to think ofourselves as a Tall family, to have Tall Pride, to say Tall is Beautiful. So Fred’s entreaty amused me; he was telling me that at Stanford, I would feel at home.

Nevertheless I complained, Stanford doesn’t offer a very strong programfor female athletes. You don’t have varsity volleyball or lacrosse, and the basketball team plays in Roble Gym. They don’t even wear real uniforms.

You’re right, he said. I was hoping you could help build theprogram.

My first two years at Stanford, our basketball coach was a kind, devoted, unpaid graduate student named Gay Coburn. Our seasons consisted of eleven, then thirteen games. For uniforms, we wore white t-shirts (draped with dreaded red pennies for away games) and red shorts. For warm-ups, we wore hooded red Stanford sweatshirts we bought with our own money in the bookstore. We bought our own high-tops and taped our own ankles. We played and practiced in Roble--which, as I recall, is so claustrophobic that our 20 or so fans sat on a single bench between the sideline and the wall. None of us received an athletic scholarship.

I was miserable. Often accompanied by two teammates (Sonia Jarvis andStephanie Erickson), I spent all my free time in athletic director DickDiBiaso’s office, demanding equal treatment with the men. I’d drop by unannounced, insist on meeting with him, then remind him that Title IX , the federal law that prohibits discrimination on the basis of sex in educational institutions, had passed in 1972. I was angry. I was persistent. I was, I’m sure, a pain in the neck. But wasn’t I supposed to help build the program?

Finally, toward the end of my sophomore year, we were allowed to playthree games in Maples Pavilion. In my junior year, we moved permanently into Maples, with room for 7,500 fans. We received uniforms, a trainer, and access to the weight room. And Dick DiBiaso presented us with our first two full-time coaches. Head coach Dotty McCrea had been the assistant to Cathy Rush at three-time national champion Immaculata College. Dotty’s assistant, Sue Rojcewicz, came to Stanford directly from the 1976 Olympics, where she had helped the United States win a silver medal.

Under the guidance of our experienced new coaches, we grew stronger,faster, more skillful, more confident. The Stanford Daily began to pay attention. KZSU started broadcasting home games. Dotty and Sue began recruiting in earnest, and in my senior year acquired Stanford’s first female basketball player on scholarship, Kathy Murphy. We played 19 games my junior year, 29 the next. We played in the first round of the national championship, losing respectably to the eventual national champion, UCLA.

It wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t equitable, yet. We traveled by bus, and Only within California and Nevada. We only won about half of our games. The San Francisco Chronicle ignored us. Our fans were few; maybe 300 tops.

Dotty and Sue were my best coaches ever; my teammates were my best teammates ever; Maples Pavilion was paradise. As Dean Hargadon had implied I would, I felt at home, and I never regretted accepting his offer to attend Stanford.

At the Final Four last year in Kansas City I ran into Kate Starbird, one of Stanford’s greatest players ever. She was born in 1975, when I was still sweating and swearing in Roble Gym.I introduced myself and shamelessly informed her that, 20 years after my graduation, one of my Stanford rebounding records remains unbroken (most rebounds in a single game: 20). She was kind enough to act impressed.

"How was your experience at Stanford?" I asked.
"Fantastic," she replied.Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if she couldn’t imagine a time whenplaying basketball at Stanford was not fantastic. I was tempted to tell her about the old days of white t-shirts and red shorts, but resisted.

"Glad to hear it," I said instead.

The fact that the Stanford program is now fantastic probably has more to do with the inexorable forces of Title IX than the persistent harassment of one athletic director by one angry young feminist and her teammates. Nevertheless, I take pride in the accomplishments of Starbird, Wideman, Azzi, and all the others. I saved my old red sweatshirt and wear it, grinning like a fool, when I watch Tara’s team on television. I like to think I helped build the program.