The Game Changer

The sweat-soaked uniform seemed to have lost its definitive red color. The dazed All-American wearing that uniform was being helped into a sitting position, while all around him popping flash bulbs illuminated a purgatory of hostile fans. Located among these fist-raising Cal rooters was a tall, 21-year-old English major, a former pre-med student named Eldred G. Peck. In another few years, Peck would be known to the world as movie star Gregory Peck, but for the moment Eldred was just another Cal student looking on while a companion pointed out that the All-American, in this case an All-American named Hank Luisetti, could not do much damage if he would just remain seated on the floor. A press photographer was stretched out on the hardwood, pointing his Leica through a forest of legs gathered around Stanford’s 6-foot-3-inch basketball star. LIFE magazine had sent a crew to cover the game, during the fourth minute of which Luisetti broke the national scoring record, coolly pivoting around a defender and flipping in a high, floating left-hander from the right corner. Oh, what a night.

In the minutes just before, Peck had seen California slice into Stanford’s huge lead, the score was 42–32, and time was out with 10 minutes to play.

Immaculately white-clad male yell leaders took to the floor, aiming large megaphones up at the immense Cal cheering section, stirring up a Friday night frenzy. The roar swelled to the top of five-year-old Harmon Gym, and the noise needed no interpretation. Every sweating player, student and fan knew that Cal was at the brink of elimination. For the Bears to come from behind and tie for the southern division title it was now or never.

After trailing most of the game by ballooning double digits, the Golden Bears had come from behind, applying an all-out, attacking, man-for-man defense that threw a roadblock up to Luisetti’s raging, racehorse offense. Faced with the tight confines of the Stanford match up zone, Cal attacked inside. Granite-jawed, bleary-eyed center Chet Carlisle, as if hearing the call of the wild, scored a string of leaping baskets close to the hoop compelling Luisetti to call a timeout.

With the timeout over, the yell leaders still had the crowd stomping out the beat to Big C, the school song. The Cal players huddled in their foul lane, resolutely looking over at their opponents. A composed Luisetti walked to his position within earshot of play-by-play announcer Doug Montel and thought briefly of his mother listening at home. He watched Beebs Lee take the inbounds pass from his roommate, Calderwood, and the notion jumped into his mind that his life as a college basketball player was nearly over. This was shortly before the unthinkable happened—Luisetti being knocked unconscious.

Now as Peck looked on, the raucous cheers that had filled the sold-out arena dropped to a dull murmur. Eight-thousand pairs of eyes focused on Luisetti, flat on his back near the midcourt sideline. The game stopped on the lonely trill of Lloyd Leith’s whistle, the crowd realizing that it was Luisetti, and not another player, being rolled over onto his back.