A Walk in the Sun : Allen’s 49ers Never Threatened to Score at Clemson but ‘We’re Going to Make Somebody Pay for This,’ Coach Vows

Lightning flashed, thunder cracked and rain fell in sheets on Greenville, S.C.,last Thursday night, just after the arrival of George Allen and his Cal State Long Beach football team.

No one, however, took this as an omen that the 49ers, 39-point underdogs for their game Saturday at Clemson, would take South Carolina by storm.

A party that included coaches, administrators, 59 players and 52 boosters had flown from Los Angeles to Greenville on a chartered jet. The boosters had each paid $350 to rub elbows with the legendary Allen, who was about to make his long-awaited debut with the 49ers.

In the Marriott Hotel lounge, two autograph-seeking bartenders wondered whether Allen would be dropping in. He wouldn’t be. He was up in his room, observing the midnight curfew he had set for his players.

On Friday morning, there was no rain. Allen, 72, went to breakfast in a blazer and slacks. All of the players and assistant coaches wore shorts. “I think we have a chance to upset them,” Allen said to the assistants.

The team took a bus 45 miles to Clemson University’s 80,000-seat stadium and practiced for two hours. Afterward, Allen held a press conference and rode back to the hotel in the front seat of a South Carolina Highway Patrol car driven by Trooper D. B. Wilson, a big Clemson fan.

“This is beautiful out here, I like it,” said Allen, looking out at the pine trees along the rural highway.

Also in the car were Cal State Long Beach Athletic Director Corey Johnson and Douglas Looney of Sports Illustrated. Johnson said someone had told him that he would eventually be the answer to a trivia question: Who is the last person to hire and fire George Allen?

Allen laughed and said: “After tomorrow I may fire myself.”

He looked at the Clemson media guide, then asked Wilson about the Tigers’ strength.

“L awn backers,” the trooper drawled.

After returning to the hotel, Allen, who said he believed his team was as well prepared as it could be, went for a run with Gary Zauner, the special teams coach.

Later in the evening, Allen’s wife, Etty, was in the lounge and danced with her son, Bruce. The coach was busy going over strategy.

“He’s very calm,” Etty said. “We don’t talk too much the night before a game. We communicate by looking at each other. We love each other. I don’t ask him questions because I don’t want to clutter his mind.”

After breakfast Saturday morning, linebacker Pepper Jenkins said: “We’re about as ready as we can get.”

As the boosters ate near the pool, the 49ers filed into a room for a motivation session. Some wore shirts that read, “I Play Tenacious Defense for George Allen.”

Allen looked lean and younger than 72. His hair was freshly combed and he wore a yellow sweater over black shorts. He introduced Tom Skinner, who had been his chaplain on the Washington Redskins for many years.

Skinner’s trip to Greenville was made possible when Frank Bowman, the university’s housing director, and four boosters each wrote checks for $100. Bowman said he collected the money when Allen told him that the budget would not cover the expense of bringing in Skinner.

“You must have passion,” Skinner told the players in a resonant voice. “This is not just another game, this is your life.”

When Skinner completed his talk, he received a standing ovation and rushed to catch a plane back to New York. The 49ers and the boosters boarded buses for Clemson.

In the lobby, Joe Saucedo, a Long Beach banker, snapped a photo of Allen.

Tiger paws painted on the highway showed the way to the stadium. Cars were decorated with orange flags. Their radios were undoubtedly tuned to a pregame show that invited listeners to call in.

“Go Tigers, we all love you,” more than one caller said with enough emotion to confirm that here was an area in which football is a religion. Tailgate parties dotted the fields around the stadium.

Inside, the 49ers put on their new uniforms--white jerseys with black trim, gold pants, black helmets.

Willie Brown, the defensive backs coach and a member of the Pro Football Hall of Fame, told some of the players as they left the dressing room, “You look good, very sharp, very sharp.”

When Allen came out onto the field--to shouts of “Hey, George” and “Mr. Allen”--photographers and a cable TV crew followed him. At the 50-yard line, Allen shook hands with Clemson Coach Ken Hatfield.

“Proud to have you, coach,” Hatfield said. “Proud of everything you’ve done.”

It was hot on the field.

“I can see why they call this Death Valley,” Allen said. “This (grass) feels like Astroturf.”

Among the boosters were three members of the 1985 Long Beach team--Dave Komendat, Kevin Moore and Gino Marchese. Still looking fit enough to play, they paced the sidelines.

“I’d pay a lot of money to go in for just four plays,” Komendat said.

The double-decked stadium was filling with people dressed in orange.

Just before the players were introduced, Cedrick Hardman chatted with members of the Clemson crew that handles the chains and yard markers on the sidelines. They knew him not as a volunteer assistant for Long Beach but as a former all-pro defensive end for the San Francisco 49ers.

“You all shake his hand?” one of them asked when Hardman had left. “He’s got big ol’ knots in his hand.”

The 49ers, 36 of them about to play their first college game, raced onto the field.

“Go, go, go,” defensive lineman Ira Morris yelled.

Allen had been afraid that Clemson might march down the field and score the first time they got the ball. Instead, the Tigers were forced to punt.

On their second possession, the 49ers quieted a crowd of 72,500 by moving from their 24-yard line to the Clemson 48. Eighteen of the yards came on a pass from Todd Studer to Mark Seay.

Then came the big turnover that Allen had feared. Studer threw a pass that was intercepted by Arlington Nunn, who ran 55 yards for a touchdown.

The 49ers did not give up. Jenkins, playing as well as the highly regarded Clemson linebackers, made six tackles and had a sack.

But overall the 49ers were badly outmanned.

It was 28-0 at halftime, then 35-0 when Clemson’s Doug Thomas ran back the second-half kickoff for a touchdown.

When players came dejectedly off the field, Allen put his arm around them, consoling them like a grandfather might console a grandson.

The sun kept beating down and the score kept mounting. Clemson was too fast, too big, too talented, but Allen kept coaching and clapping encouragement. The 49ers never threatened to score.

It finally ended, 59-0, the worst defeat in Long Beach history.

Clemson players greeted Allen at midfield. Fans asked for his autograph. “George, thanks for coming,” one said.

In the air-conditioned dressing room, the 49ers, many of whom looked young enough to still be in high school, pulled off their jerseys and shoulder pads. Their gray T-shirts were black with sweat.

Allen gathered his team around him and said, “We’re going to make somebody pay for this down the line. Now let’s kneel and pray.”

He held the hands of two of his players as the Lord’s Prayer was recited.

The loss--worst of his 24-year career--to a team he never thought he should have played, seemed to change Allen’s affable nature. He was hurt and angry.

“It’s unfair to the kids,” he kept saying. “I don’t want any more games like this. We played the game to get some money ($250,000) to help keep the program going. I don’t think this type of game helps the winner or the loser.”

Jenkins, although he injured his shoulder, said he had no regrets about playing such a powerful team. “I’m up for the challenge any time,” he said.

Allen did not seem up for another press conference, but he attended it anyway, repeating the feelings he had expressed in the dressing room.

Then he got on the bus with his players and left for the airport and the flight home.

Allen’s first trip to Clemson was almost over. He said he would not be coming back.