My Dad Was Somewhere in the Crowd
The Apple Cup had just ended, and the field at Joe Albi Stadium in Spokane had turned into complete chaos.
Washington State had beaten Washington 27-10. Students and fans were everywhere, making it difficult to reach the sideline or even find some of my teammates. I eventually worked my way toward the Husky side of the field, looking for my friend Tony Apostle.
Tony was looking for me too.
When we finally found each other, we hugged. We had played against one another for seven straight years without ever being teammates, and now we were standing together after the biggest game of the year in our home state.
Then I felt a tap on my shoulder.
It was my dad.
Somehow, he had made his way onto the field. While I was celebrating, he had taken a picture of Tony and me.
I didn’t know he was there.
I certainly didn’t know he was taking the picture.
But he was.
Some Photographs Mean More Years Later
Most families probably have photographs that seemed ordinary when they were taken.
A birthday.
A school picture.
A family gathering.
A vacation.
Years later, someone comes across the photograph again, and suddenly the people in it are young. Someone who was always there is no longer there. A place that once seemed familiar has changed.
The photograph becomes something different.
It becomes a way back.
That is what I think about when I remember my dad taking that picture after the Apple Cup.
The photograph itself wasn’t the only thing that mattered. It was the fact that he had been watching.
He had been there.
He had seen the game, the celebration and the moment when two old friends found each other in the middle of the crowd.
And he had thought to capture it.
My Father Was Part of Those Moments
My relationship with my dad was built around time.
Growing up on the ranch, I spent countless hours with him. I rode with him on his Caterpillar D-6 and his John Deere wheel tractor. I went with him in our 1947 Ford pickup when he needed to go to town for parts or service. Sometimes he challenged me to race from the shop to the house at the end of the day.
Those were ordinary parts of growing up.
There was no audience.
No trophy.
No reason for anyone outside our family to remember them.
But they became part of my life just the same.
That is why the picture after the Apple Cup feels like more than a photograph to me.
It fits with the rest of those memories.
My dad was there when I was a boy riding beside him on a tractor. He was there when I was learning what hard work looked like. And years later, he was there in the middle of a football celebration, camera in hand.
The setting had changed.
He hadn’t.
The People Behind the Big Moments
When people look at a college football career from the outside, they tend to remember the obvious things.
The games.
The wins.
The stadiums.
The names of the players and coaches.
Those things are certainly part of the story.
But anyone who has lived through a long career knows there is another story underneath it. It is made up of parents sitting in the stands, friends waiting outside locker rooms, coaches giving advice, family members driving long distances and people who were there before anyone else knew your name.
My dad belonged to that part of my story.
He wasn’t just watching the Apple Cup as a father watching his son play football. He had been part of my football story from much earlier.
He had watched me grow from a kid on the ranch into a college football player.
So when I think about that picture now, I don’t just see Tony and me.
I see my dad standing somewhere nearby.
The Moment After the Game
The story didn’t end when the photograph was taken.
The following morning, after a night of celebrating in Spokane, I drove to Yakima and met my dad for a couple of days of pheasant hunting. From there, we drove to Seattle for the weekly Rotary luncheon, where Coach Jim Sweeney and I were guests following the Apple Cup victory.
I like that sequence of events.
One day, my dad was on the football field taking a picture.
The next, we were hunting together.
Then we were sitting at a luncheon in Seattle.
There was no need to separate the different parts of my life.
Football was there.
So was family.
So was the relationship I had with my father.
They all belonged together.
Looking at the Past Through a Photograph
One of the reasons I wrote Crab Creek Chronicles was to preserve some of these connections.
A photograph can preserve a moment.
A memoir can put that moment back into its surroundings.
It can remind you what happened before the picture was taken, who was standing nearby, where you had come from and what happened after everyone went home.
That is especially true with family memories.
The older we get, the more we realize how much of our lives was made up of small moments that didn’t seem important at the time.
My dad taking a picture on the field wasn’t a career milestone.
It wasn’t a championship trophy.
It wasn’t something that would appear in a newspaper headline.
But he was proud of me that day. He found me after the game, gave me a congratulatory hug, and made sure he captured a moment I shared with an old friend.
That is enough to make the photograph worth remembering.
What I See When I Think About That Day
I have spent many years looking back at football, from the perspective of a player and later as an athletic director.
I’ve been fortunate to experience games far bigger than the one I played that afternoon.
But bigger doesn’t always mean more important.
Sometimes what stays with you is the person standing just outside the frame.
For me, that person was my dad.
He had been part of my life long before I knew where football might take me. He was there on the ranch, in the pickup, on the tractor and, eventually, on the field after one of the biggest wins of my college career.
He didn’t need to say much.
He took the picture.
And after all these years, I still remember who was holding the camera.
FAQs
Is the Apple Cup story included in the Bill Moos book?
Yes. Crab Creek Chronicles includes Bill’s memories of playing in the Apple Cup and the events surrounding Washington State’s 27-10 victory over Washington.
Who took the photograph after the Apple Cup?
Bill’s father took the photograph after finding Bill and his longtime friend Tony Apostle together on the field following the game.
How does family feature in Crab Creek Chronicles?
Family memories are woven throughout the memoir, including Bill’s childhood on the ranch and his relationship with his father.
Is Crab Creek Chronicles only about college football?
No. The Bill Moos memoir covers much more than football. It brings together family, ranch life, friendships, career experiences and the moments that shaped Bill long before and long after his playing days.