The 1960s - Head Coach Marv Levy

"Marv Levy (Who?) is Cal's New Coach," headlined The Chronicle. The Examiner, meanwhile, hit upon a theme that would plague Levy throughout his stay in Berkeley: "Cal Hires Egghead Coach."

But none of his problems became a factor in a football season that would showcase his amazing talent. When asked who in his opinion was the greatest of all the backs who had played at Cal, Bill Archer, who as a player, coach and fan had seen most all of them in his then ninety-four years, replied without hesitation, "Jackie Jensen."

Cal was lucky enough to have an exemplar of that noble breed. Jackie Jensen had all the necessary ingredients - blond good looks, unshakable self-confidence tempered with genuine humility, an uncanny ability to come through at the critical moment and absolutely astonishing athleticism. There was no game Jensen could not play and play better than most. ... As an All American pitcher-outfielder, he led the 1947 Cal baseball team to the very first College World Series Championship. ...

Now, in 1948, Waldorf was ready to turn his "Golden Boy" loose, to make him the prime ball-carrier, to let him run, as he'd so often shown he could, absolutely wild. Pappy was to say of his star's darting, weaving style that "he eludes the hand he cannot see."

The 1940s - Running back Jackie Jensen

The first few years immediately following World War II evolved not so surprisingly into a second coming of the Jazz Age on the Berkeley campus. ... Like the '20s, the late '40s ushered in a Golden Age of Sports. ... And, as before, there was no more glamorous a figure in all of sports than the college football hero. ...

Jensen was deceptive in other ways. From the stands, he appeared cocky, even flamboyant. He was one of only a few Cal players in '48 to wear the new plastic helmet instead of the tried-and-true leather model. An expert swimmer, he generally showed up for fall practice with a deep tan after summers spent lifeguarding. He was engaged then to pretty Zoe Ann Olsen, a silver diving medalist in the '48 Olympic Games in London. And he did have a natural swagger. But he was not at all the cocky guy he seemed. He had experienced a fatherless, impoverished childhood that only sports had alleviated. He was naturally friendly but painfully shy at times. Those who found him aloof mistook reserve for conceit. And as his brilliant but sadly truncated major league baseball career revealed, he suffered from a debilitating phobia, a fear of flying.