You wouldn't figure Joseph Grant to be a Stanford football fan. He lived most of his adult life in Massachusetts. And he earned a degree from -- of all places -- Cal in 1950.
But finding a more devoted Cardinal booster would be hard. Grant has season tickets to home games and has logged thousands of miles driving to away games from Louisiana to Michigan. And -- perhaps most significant -- he comes out for nearly every practice, rain or shine.
If you wander the sidelines of the football field on weekdays, you will likely see a cluster of older men, like Grant and his buddy William Kays, '42, watching the team practice and rehashing a recent game or sharing memories of one played more than half a century ago. The onlookers, dubbed "railbirds" by former coach Jack Elway, are a Stanford tradition -- not as well known, but probably as firmly established now as Big Game Gaieties and Full Moon on the Quad.
These men share strikingly similar stories. Most of them came of age in the 1930s when the "Vow Boys" made good on a promise to finish their Stanford football careers without ever losing a game to USC. In an instant, they can conjure up images of the coaches and stars of yesteryear -- Clark Shaughnessy, Bobby Grayson, Frank Albert. Many follow Cardinal teams well beyond the fall season, including baseball, basketball, tennis and swimming.
They don't socialize outside of practices, but they share an easy camaraderie, developed over many years. One afternoon in September, Henry Peters, '44, teases Grant about his recent trip to Austin for the punishing 69-17 season-opening loss to Texas. "That was a poor decision," Peters jokes. "The game wasn't bad," Grant deadpans back, "but the heat and humidity were terrible."
Why do they do it? Most have a strong emotional connection because they've been following the team for so long. Grant saw his first Stanford football game in the 1930s. Peters's was even earlier -- in 1927. "Nothing but men piling on top of each other. That's all I remember," he says.
The size of the group varies from practice to practice. Sometimes as few as three show up; this year, by mid-October, with the Cardinal 4-0 in the Pac-10, as many as 10 railbirds were chatting about Bowl bids. "We live and die with them, believe me," says one regular, Lloyd Schouweiler, '51.
Devoted as they are, even the railbirds have moments when they hesitate to admit the depth of their loyalty to Stanford. Grant fibbed when -- seated among hometown fans at the Texas game -- a woman asked who he was rooting for.
"I come from Massachusetts," he said. "I don't care who wins."
