Archway at the current Kezar Stadium (capacity 10,000) is a nod to the venue’s past.
By John Murphy
The year was 1966. I was 10 and my cousin Billy Hogan 9.
I stayed overnight at his house in the Sunset District of San Francisco. This was a normal thing, as I had two sets of cousins up in the Sunset and my family would often go there to visit.
On one trip to The City, Billy and I set our sights on a San Francisco 49ers game. Kids got in for free by snipping vouchers off the backs of Christopher Milk cartons.
The day of the game we put on warm coats and headed with Billy’s neighborhood pals for Kezar Stadium, the great wooden bowl in the Southeast Corner of Golden Gate Park.
The Sunset and Kezar were not on a straight line. It’s fuzzy now, but I recall walking several blocks, maybe getting on a bus, then hopping on a streetcar before arriving at the stadium.
I don’t remember who the Niners played. Didn’t matter. It was all about the adventure — much of which happened after the game.
It was post-game that my cousin and his posse collected cushions. These black-and-orange numbers were trucked over from Candlestick Park. They were then rented to fans to save their butts from the hard stadium benches.
The vendors paid kids a nickel for each cushion retrieved – a bonanza in a day when a Butterfinger or a Charleston Chew cost only five cents.
Well, the game ended, and we were off — scurrying around the vast stadium collecting cushions. This was fun! And I had a big stack of them, almost more than I could carry.
Straining now to hold the tower of cushions, I walked unsteadily toward the vendor’s lair. Pow! Just as I got close a kid purposely plowed into me and sent me flying. I recovered, but an army of kids descended on my cushions like hungry rats.
Bummer. Afterward, my cousin and his buds pooled all their money and divided it. I had nothing, but I still got a share.
I happily took the coins and we headed home. It was quite a day and it wasn’t done yet.
Main Street Dog 