*WARNING: Typos, grammatical errors, and errant Texas fandom ahead. Proceed with caution.
It is that time in the year when I like to regurgitate a lengthy stream of consciousness to try and sum up from one fan’s perspective yet another season of Texas Football come and gone. At some level it’s an attempt to cling to the last tattered remnants of the thing I love so much. However… there is much of last season I am desperately wishing to clean off the walls of my memory with isopropyl. It ended up being a schizophrenic roller coaster tearing down the track across the span of a few months that left me at times an entangled conflicted mass of frustrated rage, hemorrhaging optimism and sanity from every mental orifice I possess. And other times a slobbering euphoric man-baby stiff-arming reality.
So… let’s wind the clock back. The 2nd annual Texas Football Year in Review.
I left the season preview with a sentiment echoing… "Why not us?" But of course! A young team with a big ol’ chip on their shoulders. A coaching staff eager to prove that the first season was not Texas Football. A statement game against a storied perennial powerhouse in the College Football world, primetime, on the national stage.
By September I had stuffed every irrational iota of sunshine and sanguinity into my person that I could barely see straight as I donned my Earl Campbell edition button down shirt that I bought my freshman year. Top button fastened last. I swelled with hope and pride having the knowledge that the unknown of the new season was upon us. My Saturdays would once again be centered around cheering for the Longhorns and I floated into that bar for our first game. My ears deaf to the ravenous sneers and insults muttered under beer battered breath from the 98% Notre Dame fan base present all around me. I was a burnt orange middle finger in a sea of Touchdown Jesus zealots. And as I watched the team run out of the visitor’s tunnel in South Bend, Indiana reality, expectations, emotions, all of it blew through the roof of the bar, exited the atmosphere, and began to orbit some distant planet (in a universe where I like to believe that this game actually played out like I imagined in my dreams). College Football was back.
And then…
Turns out there’s a whole lot of fucking reasons "Why not us?" The crash back down to earth was speedy and violent. Suddenly, I was caught somewhere between my pre-season high and the reality of what I was witnessing in real time and, worse, what it meant for the rest of the season. All of the hype videos that were still echoing in my head now clashed with the incompetence unfolding on the field. The TCU and Arkansas that had become distant nightmares from a season ago erupted back into my mind and eviscerated my vast stores of sunshine as yet another broken football team assembled in front of my eyes. And for the first quarter of the football season I just stared blankly at the TV. Unable to process. Unable to rationalize.
The defense had too many new faces to pick up where they left off but the offense sure as hell did. To say they didn’t miss a beat would be assuming there was any rhythm to begin with. We were told there would be changes. We were told the offense would be overhauled. I spent an entire offseason defending Swoopes and here he was doing the same shit I saw last year. Our young defense fought hard but for a unit that lost as much as we did to the draft and graduation there’s only so much a group of young men can do when most of them 6 months ago were at their high school prom now facing a veteran team eager to make their national title run statement.
We were making plays. That Malik Jefferson hit on the Notre Dame running back where he came clean off the edge and delivered the full force of his potential brought me out of my seat. And it injected a little bit of hope that we might be able to pull this off. But then the definition of insanity that was our offense would trot back out to take the field. Do the same thing over and over and over again expecting different results. Somehow… it was only 17-0 at the half.
It was at that point when the frustrations gurgled up from under the sunshine. Who’s to blame? Swoopes? Strong? And then they showed him on the screen. Watson. A man that I defended alongside Swoopes all offseason under the premise "Let’s wait and see". We waited a whole offseason and at halftime of our very first game I didn’t want to see another minute of this offense. Ever again. You want to talk about reasons "Why not us?" well one was at the top of the list and had a name. Shawn Watson.
This… "overhauled offense" we heard so much about was just Watson’s shitty playbook sped up. Feces at hyper speed slamming into the Notre Dame defense over and over. So much hope was lost on Swoopes and transferred to Heard and that offense ended up getting him hit so hard in his first collegiate game on the road that it still makes me cringe. At the end of the third quarter I wish I could’ve fast-forwarded the rest of that merciless beat down of a football game. I had this short Notre Dame douchebag buzzing around me trying to provoke some sort of illicit reaction out of the lone Texas fan in the bar. But what could I have said? Feces on fast forward produced 8 first downs, 163 total yards, and 3 lonely, cold points in September. Our young defense had to endure 39 minutes of growing pains from start to finish. 30 first downs, 38 points, 527 yard of total offense and apparently had developed a severe allergy to getting off the field on 3rd down. It’s a wonder they didn’t score 50 on us. But I knew at some point someone on our schedule would.
The proverbial cherry on top on what was essentially an assault and battery on the entirety of the Texas Football Program was the smug "better luck next year" I was inundated with from the shit eating grin laden mouths of the Notre Dame faithful as I paid my tab. It was obvious. They already had the W next to @ Texas 2016. All I was thinking was… "Where’s my fucking pitchfork?" I found it. Dusted it off. Began to sharpen. And laid in wait for Monday. The burning fires that had been raging across the various Texas sites after last season burned hotter than ever. We, as a program, had arrived at the point where the discussion of firing a head coach in the first game of his second season was a reality. Sadly… there was cause. What rolled in to South Bend was inexcusable. Why it rolled in to South Bend is even more inexcusable. Watson was responsible for turning around things for Strong at Louisville and produced Teddy Bridgewater so I’m not really at liberty to fault a man for sticking to what worked. But it was high time to admit that this square peg-round hole methodology of shoving Watson’s playbook down our players throats when it was producing an offense that quantifiably gave us zero chance to simply compete in games needed to be sent somewhere far away.
If Strong is to fail at Texas I will look to the retention of Shawn Watson after last season as a valid reason as to why. But as he took the podium at what was supposed to be Watson’s press conference I knew that the bleeding was about to receive medical attention… to the tune of a demotion. As necessary as it was… as relieved as I was it was still frustrating to see. An entire offseason wasted during a crucial period in the Strong era. The dreaded "Interim" tag now next to our Offensive Coordinator. Which meant that a total reset of the offense for the 3rd time in 3 years was imminent. It solved a part of a larger problem but provided no substantive answers to what was going to win us games in the Big 12 for the long term. And it fucking sucked.
With a pseudo-sense of a "new season" in place, we could look ahead to the rest of the schedule through a filter of stale, embittered optimism. The QB competition was again reopened to the collective eye roll of the Texas faithful. Texas hasn’t won an internal QB competition in 5 years so it kind of makes sense why our QBs can’t win against an opponent on a consistent basis. But hey… we had a familiar punching bag to work out the kinks and see what this Norvell guy can do. So long, Shawn Watson. Hello, Rice.
And hello, Jerrod Heard! (For now… ahem). The potential breaking point for me as a fan this season came down to a 3rd and 11 on our first possession. Watson was gone but the first two plays I saw were the up-tempo garbage that only accumulated in a pile of dust, negative yardage, and a looming 3-‘N-Out in 23 seconds I’ve become so accustomed to. Then that long stride glided out of the pocket, cleared the corner, cut up the sideline and left 90% of the Rice defense behind. Heard’s 35-yard scamper sparked at the very least my ability to watch the rest of this game. The 10-yard block in the back penalty left me gnashing my teeth a little however... The very next play I was reminded why I invest so much emotion into watching Texas football. A touchdown. I hadn’t seen a viable Texas touchdown in a game since November 15th of 2014 against Oklahoma State. And by that I mean I hadn’t seen us score against anything other than the second string defense in a game that was essentially over by halftime. At least for that game… they had been unleashed. Daje and Duke darting through Rice specials teams. Malik Jefferson hounding the Rice QB on seemingly every snap, living up to his nick name "The Predator". And the now iconic picture of him barreling into the end zone after his scoop and score makes me realize that we really got a special talent wearing No. 46.
Yet by halftime we were only up 7. And I found myself pacing around nervously. We’re playing Rice. Rice! I was batting away the "If we somehow lose to Ri-" with the help of the first half highlights. And knowing what inexplicable black hole was next wasn’t helping. The 3rd Quarter. A 15-minute stretch of time that has seen more 0’s in the box score than I care to go back and type out the actual stat. But this new-ish Texas offense came out and rattled off 21 unanswered. The defense still showed it’s extreme youth all over the field and my concern for that unit began to grow. I told myself if this game wasn’t a total lie then as long as we have Heard we can cover up for this young defense.
42-28. Actually watching the game you could rationalize what the box score said. The quick scoring. The special teams play. The bonehead pick-fumble-give it back to Rice series that Hall served up. The narrative was the same: A disparaging difference in time of possession. But the result was different. We actually scored and with ease. However, looking back on it the box score was indicative of what was to come. We gave up 462 yards, 30 first downs, and 228 yards on the ground. Rice held the ball for 44 minutes and 3rd down was still an Achilles ACL tear. But shit, if we can score 42 points on 277 total yards and 15 minutes of possession while special teams gets rolling we’ll be fine… Yeah, we’ll be fine.
Cal.
We’ll be fine. Even before this game I was nervous. I felt most of the fan base was over-looking the bears from Berkley because "It’s Cal…". But this one I knew wasn’t going to be the anticipated asswhooping of the hippies from out west. A potent offense of veterans led by arguably the top NFL QB Prospect in Jared Goff. And we’re throwing out an especially young secondary against that machine with a make shift offense in it’s second week of a square 1 rebuild to carry them. What could go wrong?
I keep referring to the season as a roller coaster. But this game was a microcosm of the emotional turbulence that left me a broken man. I was at a wedding for this game so I was instructed to be void of any burnt orange clothing, have sparse contact with any sports broadcast during the festivities and be on my best behavior. I wore my Texas socks so you can guess how the other two contingencies played out…
After gluing myself to the tiny TV in the kitchen with the reception in full swing out in the backyard, sweaty palms latched on to my khakis as the Cal offense took the field for the first time. Our defense was baby faced. And Goff was damn good. "Bend don’t break", I kept thinking. Much to my elation Cal would go 3-N-Out with their first crack at our porous defense. Our 3rd down allergy temporarily was subdued and they punted. However, Goff’s second time out proved to be video game-esque. A cool, calculated 11-play drive that resulted in 7 points that left me with the knowledge that we were in for a long night. Our offense had to come through and to be honest they did. What was most noticeable was that we seemed to be able to start un-fucking our fuck ups. A 45-yard strike from Heard on a wheel route to Daje on 3rd and 20 after a bad screenplay and a false start. All of the sudden the offense wasn’t so hopeless. I didn’t go into every possession knowing we wouldn’t do a damn thing. Cal had a really great offense but we were keeping pace with them. They would turn it over and we would score. We would turn it over and they would score. Finally… a game against good competition where we are actually competing. Texas would go into half time tied 24-24. All we needed to do was keep up and we’ll have a shot to win it at the end.
Ghosts of 3rd quarter past… The offense took a huge step back. 1 week was not long enough to exercise the demons. We put up another 0. They put up 21. As Goff carved us up like the beef tenderloin outside at the buffet that I was certain was either cold or gone by now. And with a minute and change in the 3rd I finally realized that we were down 45-24. With the ineptitude I had become so used to in full effect, the conditioned response that we were going to lose set in. I glanced outside at the party wondering if I should just go out and enjoy the rest of my night. But our offense took the field. Heard hit Foreman for 38 yards, a facemask penalty, and a 6-yard run by Gray and suddenly we were at the Cal 16. Well I’ll just see this last possession then I’ll-
3 plays later Heard’s electric scramble glued me back to my seat. I went from despondent to delusional in Heard’s 40 time and the 4th quarter had me screaming at the top of my lungs and running around. So much commotion made that people from the party came in to watch this game play out. It was exciting. It’s what college football is all about. Texas was fighting back and the momentum swing was a tangible force of will led by Jerrod Heard and this torched, battered defense playing the entire 4th quarter with their hair on fire. They had to stop dead something that had been rolling for 3 straight quarters. Cal ended the 4th quarter with 0 points. Heard made play after play despite the pressures he was seemingly trying to outrun with every scramble. And to seal it, a 3rd and 4 run that will forever put Heard in the record books regardless of how his career plays out at Texas. It was nothing short of a demi-god, Herculean effort to pull Texas football out of the purgatory it had been lamenting in for years. And he should have been allowed to enjoy just what a miraculous performance he pulled off.
While I was too busy running around the kitchen, hugging inanimate objects, knowing there was absolutely no way we would lose in overtime I kept hearing my name. Someone was softly repeating my name over and over. Trying to get my attention. Because maybe I should stop acting like a jackass. I look up at the TV and see Nick Rose unstrapping his helmet… The way kickers always do when they miss. Cal was going crazy. But… it was an extra point, what the- then I saw the replay. It started at the top of my head. The enraptured blood glowing in my cheeks and face drained into a pale ghost like look of pure, unfiltered horror. Followed by the audible plop where my heart rolled out from under my shirt and fell to the kitchen floor. Blood now soaking my Texas socks. I could not… believe… what… I had just… endured. THAT is not college football. To be robbed by something as trivial and mundane as an extra point after having done everything to claw back into that game. It took me several hours to accept that we had really lost THAT way. 1 point away from being 2-1 heading into conference play. It stung. And I missed out on beef tenderloin…
As tired as I am of moral victories and silver lining after this last season… Heard’s performance against Cal was something special to watch. Passing the likes of Vince Young for all time single game offense is nothing to sneer at. I will admit that much of what this team’s potential is and the glimpses I saw of what this team can be does induce a pained Bill Bellicheck-ian smile on my face. I got to see Heard break that record. But you know who else saw it? Oklahoma State and the rest of the Big 12.
To be honest… I don’t really remember much of the Oklahoma State game. Not because I was still drunk off of sadness (beer) from the Cal game. But because I spent most of it arguing with the OSU fans and anyone who would listen in the bar about the now infamous officiating. OSU paid attention to Heard’s explosive arrival to college football and proved fairly early on that it’s easier to stop him that I let myself believe. Heard was not invincible. No pun intended. Kind of. I knew after two games that sustaining an offense where our QB ran 20+ times a game was next to impossible. The arm strength he had demonstrated might not carry us either. Basically we had an elusive QB with a run first attitude, average arm strength, and used to beating people all by himself based on his talent. Jerrod Heard… meet contain defense. OSU laid out the blueprint that would go on to create the narrative of Heard as the starting QB in 2015. Keep him in the pocket, play sound coverage in the secondary for more than three seconds, and he will run right into the defense. Yet again Texas saw stacked boxes and could do nothing.
But for the first time all season our defense came to play. For the first time players not wearing 46 started making plays. The defensive line was mauling up front like we knew they could. Hassaan finally looked like the menace we were used to. The secondary, after being picked on for three straight games, finally made the QB pay with momentum shifting picks. Finally. The defense was keeping us in the game. However, that infuriating trend that plagued us all season where our defensive lineman couldn’t tackle a QB half their size was all too prevalent. We went into half time with a lead and then Texas started playing it’s second opponent for the day. The refs.
It’s been well documented and discussed. So I’ll refrain from going into further detail about that shit show. We all know what we saw. It was a decisive takeover of a game by an officiating crew to egregiously alter the outcome. Despite all of that we had a chance in the end to go to overtime and deal with Oklahoma State starting closer to the end zone. But as I was bitching about the calls by the refs the ball sailed over Dickson’s head and the panic once again set in my bones. He managed to somehow squib a wounded duck that all but insured an Okie State walk off win. For the second week in a row special teams play of Texas had ripped my heart out. As I watched the field goal sail through the uprights I wondered to myself… It seems as though Texas Football has to endure every possible losing scenario in the game before we get back to winning. We suffered a 2-for-1 in that game. Shady refs and a botched punt. So I guess we can cross those two off the list. 4 points from being 3-1.
TCU.
As much as I don’t remember about the Oklahoma State game I remember significantly less about the TCU game. Because I didn’t fucking watch it. Down 30-0 after 1 quarter and, yeah, I had about enough at that point. For the first time in a long time I stopped watching a Texas football game outright before half time. Apparently the team that went to Notre Dame was left in South Bend but managed to make it as far as Fort Worth while the team we saw for the last three weeks stayed in Austin. Incompetence. We managed to shoot ourselves in the foot at every single level of the game. We had botched punts covered last week at Oklahoma State. But botched punt-safety? Cross that one off. And that young defense was completely annihilated. We were out classed, out played, out coached, out everything’d. TCU was on pace for 120 points and they probably could have done it if they really wanted to. I shut that game off and went to the driving range. Every time I heard my phone buzz for another ESPN update on the game I’d slice the shit out of it.
Somewhere in the middle of this slaughter a young man made a very poor decision. Social media often leads to instant unfiltered stupidity and we got a dose of that. While getting spit roasted a player tweeted out while in the locker room. To A&M no less… Speculations of a fractured team started to flare up. Upperclassmen speaking out about the underclassmen thinking to highly of themselves only fueled the flames. Those flames making their way underneath the seat of Coach Strong. A national sentiment that he had lost his team in the wake of yet another blowout at the hands of the top-tier of the conference. Rumblings that he should just stay in Fort Worth. Fire him. At this low point of the season I began to worry for Coach Strong. I’m pulling for him like hell but what happened against TCU just can’t happen. Period. There was not much to be optimistic about with Texas Football.
54 points from being 4-1. Just kidding. But fuck all that… It was OU weekend.
My poor girlfriend… Choosing to be my partner means several things. You inherit my temperament, social awkwardness, morbid sense of humor… and Texas football. Her first experience of my rabid fandom was the BYU game in 2013. It ended up being delayed for several hours and moved to a different network. She even called Time Warner to pick up the channel that it was on because she could see how much I cared. But then she fell asleep. I didn’t want to reveal what a psycho Texas football could make me so I was left jumping up and down in silence watching Taysom Hill shred the longhorn defense. Sprinting out of the living room, roaring into towels in the bathroom, suppressing my rage down deep inside me as to not disturb the sleeping beauty I was trying to impress. That… was only a one-time gig. Too many times she has seen me devastated by the longhorns. She tries to understand and has even become quite the fan of the burnt orange herself. And after the first 5 games of this season I told myself… she needs a break. As an act of love I told her I would forgo the OU-Texas game tradition and spend the weekend with her at Disneyland.
In truth… Maybe I needed a break too. And being at a place like Disneyland during at what I thought was going to be another slaughter post-TCU I figured it might actually help when I finally check the final score and there’s Mickey Mouse to give me a big hug to console my grief in some nostalgic polyester embrace. Then I’ll ride the Whinney the Pooh ride 6 times and just have fun. Put that monumental amount of emotion that I invest in Texas football on hold for a weekend. But we all know that’s not possible…
It’s a 9 AM start time here on the west coast. We drove down Friday night to a hotel so we can maximize a full day at the corporate carnival. Before I went to sleep I set my internal clock to wake up at 8:55… My eyes opened, I carefully grabbed the remote, and turned on the TV. ESPN fills the screen at full volume. I quickly mash the volume button down while eyeing my still sleeping girlfriend. Excellent… I can maybe catch the first quarter.
And I was instantly rewarded. Rivalry games are funny things. You always hear it but it is so damn true… everything goes out the window. Whether the first 5 games were a master troll job orchestrated by Strong to lure the Sooners to sleep before this pivotal contest that felt like his immediate future at Texas was to be determined… I don’t know. But from the opening snap it seemed OU had switched bodies with Texas. Suddenly we were menacing. And they were feeble. The sweep pass to Marcus Johnson where he tip toed up the sideline and simply ran through the OU defenders to the end zone reminded me of the Tre Millard stiff-arm/hurdle video game sequence from a few years back. Somewhere Mykkelle Thompson was smiling… New York, maybe?
This fast start of ours secured me permission to continue to watch the game at the ESPN Zone (as long as I didn’t ruin the day if we ended up losing). Alongside the rest of the disheveled fathers who had escaped their screaming sugar soaked toddlers for a moment of peace and sports I picked things up in the second quarter. A pure smash mouth approach gashed the OU defense on the ground. From the 1st carry to the 58th our boys ran hard and ran with violence. The golden lining of this game would be Tyrone Swoopes. There’s something about lining up in a package where everyone in the stadium knows what’s coming… and they still can’t stop it that’s incredibly satisfying. It’s even more satisfying when we line up in a package that everyone knows what’s coming and we still get two wide ass open receivers in the end zone for the touchdown. Entering half time it felt like we were up three touchdowns. But we were only up 14-3 and the arduous vacuum that is the 3rd quarter up next. We had played valiantly but in order to pull off this upset most unexpected we were going to have to do something miraculous to hold the sooners at bay.
By miraculous I mean drag this game into the mud and blood on the field. We passed it 12 times on the day and only out of pure necessity. Run, run, run run, run, run, run, and run some more. Keep the clock rolling along. And let the defense shine. Heroes that day. Our young messiah, Malik Jefferson, and our front 7 imposed their youthful will on almost every big moment that OU tried to capitalize on. Peter Jinkens was a marvel. We kept their offense off the field. And our offense fought like hell to keep our chains churning. But for all our fight we couldn’t quite put them away. We needed a back breaker. Enter D’Onta Foreman.
Up to that point we had relied heavily on the Senior Jonathan Gray to carry our rushing attack. But post-Achilles injury and running behind our inconsistent line he just wasn’t able to manage those runs of the Gray of old. Thus the one-dimensional offensive approach was starting to waiver and OU was inching closer to shutting this win down. With 10 seconds left in the third quarter, backed up on our own 9 yard line… D’Onta Foreman broke free. He squared his 6’1, 240 pound frame up field and galloped through the OU defense. Snapping the spinal chords of the OU sideline and all the Sooner faithful in the split stands of the Cotton Bowl. Our freshman back ran out of gas as a lone OU defender tracked him down and stopped him from scoring. But a back breaker it was. Crimson and Cream spinal fluid soaked the field and the momentum was now ours again.
3 plays later we would score on the 18-Wheeler play action pass where two Texas receivers stood all alone in the end zone. And OU was dooped on possibly the most obvious play call by an interim OC ever. The Sooners would go on to score once more to bring it to a one-possession game. And I grew silent with trepidations and nervousness. We have to hold on. 6:05 left and OU with the ball. They began their drive… 1st down. I started thinking ahead to overtime… 5:20 left. For some reason my eyes locked on Malik Jefferson in motion at the line of scrimmage. They snapped the ball and he came hard off the left side… Right into the rib cage of Baker Mayfield for the sack. I shot out of the chair like a crazy person but quickly stifled my elation back down because this one wasn’t over just yet.
It would all came down to a 3rd and long. I remember holding my breath… the ball was snapped and our front 7 were in the backfield immediately. Baker Mayfield fled for his life but Naashon Hughes and Poona Ford would not be denied their coveted sack to seal the game. My breath returned in a roar. I could feel a weight lifted off the team. Biggest underdogs in the history of the series and we had just risen to the occasion.
I relished every moment of running out that clock. Seeing the Gatorade bath given to Strong, he being lifted above his players heads, and finally having the golden hat placed on his head made me feel for him. He needed this, the team needed this, and I needed this. Better yet? I was at the happiest place on earth. A day spent in the throngs of Middle America, corn dogs, nostalgia, and roller coasters (but fuck that tower of terror ride, seriously, I hate that damn ride). And a fire works display to top it off.
There is nothing to scoff at when we beat our hated rival. The context of this win was monumental. Before the game the season seemed hopeless and lost. I always say no matter what happens the season is worth it if we beat OU. Ehhh…. In the post-ecstasy of the win I began to realize something. We had dominated OU on both sides of the ball for most of the day. Outrushed them 313-61. Shut down their running game that featured two stout backs. That had been a serious problem for most of the season. But we only beat them by a touchdown. That was this team’s ceiling. The box score and the final score didn’t match up. I’ll take that win any year but it’s not a wonder the season ended up like it did when Texas does THAT to OU and manages to win by only by one score.
Kansas State.
In a way… I was happy our offensive "identity" shaped in the OU game carried over to the following Saturday. The state of Texas was in the middle of an apocalyptic wave of weather. A torrential downpour had already soaked DKR before the game started. But this was no ordinary ball coach coming into Austin… It was the purple wizard. It pains us, burns us to recall last year’s game. A shutout. Revenge was on my mind but I dared not get my hopes up too high. Snyder’s recipe for success against Texas has earned him the nickname "The Longhorn Killer" from me. He garners a sort of conflicted infuriating respect from me. He’s a good man and a good coach but I sure as fuck hate losing to him. Every. Damn. Year.
Ugly. Rain fell so hard it looked like sheet metal. We elected to run in that slop. Kansas State elected to throw. Our hard hitting front seven picked up right where they left things against OU getting after the quarterback. But the awful weather kept the product on the field bogged down. The elements allowed for the return of that serious problem plaguing this year’s defense. While our secondary was able to take advantage of errant passes thrown under pressure, our run defense began to falter. Heading into the half with a 16-3 lead we were keeping the Dark Lord at arms length.
The ugliness broke through the damn and drowned the second half. Another scoreless 3rd quarter. Our defense was holding them to field goals but we allowed a career day on the ground for the KState running back. The weather might have been the extra defender on the field that day. But Tyrone Swoopes was the hero that day. A QB mismanaged by two coaching staffs, relegated to the bench after being thrown into South Bend with only feces to do battle, having to watch the shadow of Heard grow over him after Rice and Cal. But he took everything in stride and accepted his role as the ever-popular front man of the 18-wheeler show. And as Heard’s regression continued he became an integral part of any of the offensive success we could scrape together. His long TD run to seal the game made me sincerely proud and elated for the guy. He deserved it. Whether or not the 18-Wheeler package lives to fight another day I think it speaks plenty to Tyrone Swoopes as a young man. He avenged the shut out loss from a season ago.
A water logged win against the purple wizard. Sitting at 3-4, 2-2 in the conference I was starting to look ahead to bowl eligibility. Only needing 4 wins through 6 games with Iowa State, Kansas, West Virginia, Tech, and Baylor remaining I had already penciled us in for the post season. Notre Dame and TCU were distant tragedies. We had just upset OU and avenged a shutout loss from a year ago. I was feeling good about my longhorns.
Iowa State.
In the back of my mind I knew this game would be a loss. There were larger things at work here. The controversial win in 2013. Our improbable shoot out win a year ago in the final seconds last season. There were things to set right in the universe. A Halloween night contest against a team that wanted to beat Texas more than anything… there was much to be nervous about. However… I didn’t think it would be THIS loss.
The night before the team plane barely made it off the tarmac due to the angry weather still battering the state. Players still tweeting at 3 AM after what must have been an awful flight to Iowa. The feeling began to worsen as game time approached. It emulsified in an anxious "I got a bad feeling about this…", muttered under my breath as I watched us kick off. With Karmic justice on their side the Iowa State defense went to work. The one-dimensional "identity" of the Texas offense that had led us to two straight victories was finally stopped cold. Nothing worked. Heard looked overwhelmed. I think it needs to be reiterated to him ad nauseam: YOU CAN THROW THE BALL AWAY. But he took sack after sack. Again our offense couldn’t stay on the field making it necessary for our defense to hold their own. But that wasn’t the recipe for any sort of success this season. Iowa State started moving the ball on the ground and the amount of times we could stop them were growing slimmer with every possession. Despite a total no show of any offensive output we were only down 10-0 at the half. However, hope was hard to rouse up. This had the all too familiar makings of a cursed team on Halloween night.
We all know what happened next. The offense came out and tried everything. 3 back sets, 2 back sets, 1 back sets, empty backfield, Air raid, Veer-N-Shoot, wishbone, Read Option, there might have even been some soccer offensive schemes thrown in there. 12 possessions for the offense on the night. 7 of them ended in 3-N-Outs. Our longest drive consisted of 11 plays was in the first quarter. It ended in an interception thrown by Heard. We didn’t cross the 50-yard line… until 1:35 left… in the 4th quarter. With Heard and most of the Cyclones starters on defense on the bench. And as Swoopes’ final pass sailed wide of Marcus Johnson’s hands the clock ran out I looked at the score. 24-0. Another shut out on the road. What little remaining high I still had after OU and KState evaporated. I crashed down to the post-TCU level low point. I still believe to this day that the loss was a universal intervention to set the wrongs of the past right. So… we can cross that one off the list. But in all seriousness this was another blow to my confidence in Strong. We all knew the offense was bound to meet difficulties in its current manifestation. But the team regressed to Watson-levels of incompetence. And to not even go out and be competitive against Iowa State… For the first time I can remember I was left not being able to make any sense of Texas Football.
3-5, 2-3 post-shut out #2 under Strong. Just some food for thought… Strong is 1-0 vs. teams who shut us out the year before… Ahem.
Kansas.
Not much to say about this game other than I needed it desperately. The last time I saw a Texas team score over 50 points was against New Mexico State in 2013. And it was the most points scored since Ole Miss in 2012. Despite stumbling through the first half to a 10-point lead we were doing, for the most part, what we’re supposed to do against bad teams. Impose our will. Our secondary was flying around and picking off balls like the DBU of old. As excited as I am about Malik up front… that secondary is going to be one salty unit in years to come. John Burt just absolutely torched people down the field. That kid has speed that’s simply unfair at this level. So for the first time we got a glimpse at what this team can do once they figure the college game out and put it all together. Watching the Kansas game you can see the pieces in this team. Without a doubt Texas has some really good players coming up through the ranks.
At some point in the second half the Mack Brown post-2009 coaching philosophy of "We’ll just out talent the other guys" finally kicked in. And we rattled off 35 points. Regardless of 600 yards of offense it was hard to be THAT excited outside of the fact I hadn’t seen Texas curb stop inferior competition once this season. It was what we were supposed to do. And it did little to take the frustration out of the ND, TCU, or Iowa State games. But that damn defense… injuries started up in force this game. I know we pulled out most of our starters (that are essentially high school players anyway) in the 2nd half we still gave up 430 yards of offense to the Jayhawks. The youth we were forced to handcuff ourselves to for the entire season meant we were to suffer the whims of growing pains. Thus this razor thin line we were now walking, the two road games left, and the offense from out West heading into Austin on Thanksgiving meant that the hope that we would be able to pull off last year’s effort to scrape our way into a bottom tier bowl against the percentages began to wane.
4-6, 2-3. Two wins out of the final three and we’re going bowling.
West Virginia.
I was in Hawaii for this game. Being in paradise and a Texas fan meant a 7:00 AM wake up to catch this game. Last year, West Virginia was ultimately the "turning point" of sorts for us to make a post-season berth. This game was that once again. In truth I was not and am not as disappointed in the final result. We actually looked very good on the offensive side of the ball. But that’s exactly how good teams lose on the road. 5 Turnovers 9 times out of 10 will assure a loss. D’Onta Foreman was again a force of unstoppable will… Until he coughed the ball up of course. But I particularly liked how he came right back out and broke off that 65 yard play to score on the first play of the next possession.
A 17-10 deficit at the half time was followed in the second half by the realization of Heard’s ceiling. His impatience in the pocket, inability to go through his progressions, and refusal to just throw the damn ball away blew out the tires of our offense. The defense would go on to surrender 277 yards on the ground to WVU. While the attrition of playing such a violent sport began to take it’s toll on our already embattled defense. The Kris Boyd fumble on the kick return more or less sealed it. Losing Foreman sucked our momentum completely out of our effort to overcome our mistakes. However, we were competitive. We just had bonehead plays from young players. It happens. Alabama had 5 turnovers against Ole Miss and went on to win it all… I’m not just saying but I’m just saying. It happens.
But when you wrap that loss in with the rest of the season and it was hard not to get pissed off. I had a few days of sun, beach, ocean, and fruity drinks to enjoy before I got back to real life. It’s difficult now to process even the losses like West Virginia without feeling the hopelessness surrounding this program for the last 5 years. Moral victories are good in small samples when it comes to football. It’s nice to pluck them out of the occasional implosion or unexpected loss. But when the vast majority of a season consists solely of stringing together as many moral victories as possible in order to remain positive, they ultimately become stale and meaningless due to the volume at which they are ingested. That shit don’t taste good no more.
Thus we were left with two games left. Down our volatile bruiser, D’Onta Foreman, and the injuries starting to mount, we were left hoping we had enough in the tank to stop Tech for a win at home… and for a miracle in Waco.
Texas Tech.
I hate Texas Tech. Pure and simple. I hate their stupid offense. I hate their fugly jerseys. I hate every single one of their QBs. I hate… well I don’t really hate Kingsbury, he’s kind of cool. More of a reluctant tolerance I guess. And I hate losing to Tech. No matter if they beat us or not they will never earn our respect. I don’t know for certain if they believe their position in the Thanksgiving game gives them some sort of validity because we play them now instead of aggy. But I won’t even give them that. That hit on Mahomes last year by Diggs had me ready to get to work on the Red Raiders. But looking at our roster and what we were missing I knew we had our work cut out for us.
The first quarter was a shaky display on both sides. An opening drive interception managed to hold off Tech while we attempted to find our footing on defense. But it was evident that they were going to move the ball all night. A disconcerting realization because now the offense had to step up despite our missing pieces. It was Heard’s worse game. Whether it was the result of running so many times leaving himself open to violent punishment 20+ times a game or his confidence was shaken after his furious arrival… it was clear that going with Heard was hurting us more than helping us.
Both teams were kept off the board heading into the second quarter. Tech continued to do Tech things by coughing up the ball and keeping us in the game. We were holding them back but if there was any team I knew we couldn’t hold back for the entire game… it was the Red Raiders. Heard took another big hit and he was left dizzy and concussed. His time under center for the 2015 season had come to an end. Leaving us with Swoopes to handle business for the rest of the night. And oh boy… Enter Chris Warren III.
I was just getting over the hype surrounding Foreman as the leader of this resurgent rushing attack. And then with 5 minutes left in the second quarter when the ineptitude of the offense left me readying for another incompetent riddled effort Warren obliterated the Tech defense. 91 yards of broken tackles, bursts of pure speed, and raw talent left my jaw on the floor. One of the greatest runs I have ever seen. Tech defenders bouncing off of his menace like it was children trying to tackle a silverback gorilla. Glorious. On the literal heels of that run we had a chance to bully ourselves to victory over these west Texas punks.
Down only 7 heading into the 3rd quarter I just kept thinking "Feed Warren". Feed him we did. To the tune of 276 yards and 4 touchdowns on 25 carries. A volatile 11 yards per attempt. He was unstoppable. But there’s another element to football that’s unstoppable. Injuries. I have never seen so many injuries in a game. Impact players started going down in droves. Watching Malik Jefferson head into the locker room my heart sank. The young defense got younger and younger after every possession. Tech started to move the ball with ease and watching an up tempo offense like theirs means that the next gut wrenching big play or 3rd down conversion is only seconds away. We would go down by 10 points 5 times over the course of that game. But we fought back every time. Watching the Tech QB peacock around the field really pissed me off. I hope the defense remembers that game like I do for next year.
Broken and relying on another surprise in our younger ranks in Warren we had clawed back again late in the 4th to actually take the lead. Then Tech delivered the dagger. A bullshit direct snap on a sweep right up the sideline to the end zone untouched. Oh, I was so mad. Furious. I hate losing THAT way to Tech. Warren had single handedly campaigned to beat Teach by putting a whole mile of rushing yardage on their defense. Our young defenders managed to make plays despite being shelled on night. We just couldn't make enough of them. Tech would run the clock out and we would lose by 3. Another travesty on the defensive end. 665 total yards of offense for Tech on the night. 293 yards on the ground. Regardless of how many injuries we suffered that night and the ongoing necessity to play true freshman we weren’t doing much by way of stopping just about anybody this year.
7 points from being 7-4. A single touchdown from having an acceptable season with such a fledgling roster. Bowl eligibility beyond our grasp. And Baylor looming.
This final game of the 2015 season was another 9 AM kickoff for me over on the west coast. I think there were 5 in total. Which, in hindsight, turned out to be good thing because it got losing football out of the way earlier in the day and allowed me to recuperate adequately. The team had suffered significant losses to injuries thus the group that traveled up I-35 was up for one hell of a fight. Against the offensive yardage factory in its shiny new riverside cathedral coached by a dude named Art. But I think the team was angry. I mean really angry. This season had not gone the way anyone wanted. The amount of heartbreak I had endured pales in comparison to those young men who actually have to put on the jerseys and go play on the field. That touchdown difference of getting to play in December probably stinging them all the way to Waco. The season was about to be over and no one was ready for that to happen.
But as much as we had loss to injury, Baylor took their fair share of losses as well. Briles’ system, this year at least, seemed to be one that put its quarterbacks in situations where spinal surgery was necessary. Down to their third string QB I thought at the very least we could stay competitive. But even I underestimated how angry the Longhorns were… As much as I hate Tech I think our team despises Baylor. The quiet Steve Edmond even took to social media to unload his sentiments about that program. Good. We were going to need it.
Baylor’s opening drive came down to a 4th and 1 that I was so accustomed to seeing them convert against us over the years… but we held our own and got their asses off the field. Swoopes lead a quick three play drive to score and I remember saying "Whaaaaaa is this?". Then… on Baylor’s third possession after we had gone up 10-0 burnt orange anger collided with the third string quarterback. Now I never celebrate an injury on the field (although I will reluctantly admit to cheering when we sacked Sam Bradford and reinjured his shoulder…) but I was relieved in a way… sort of leveling the playing field… but I feel dirty. From there we would once again delve into the game plan that guaranteed us the most success. Drag the game into the mud. If we were going to play ugly then let’s make damn sure they have to play ugly too. Left with a receiver named Lynx to run their offense and our ferociously feisty backups playing like mad men the Bears suddenly had their backs against a wall. Baylor was probably pretty "meh’d" out for this game anyway. Their post-season aspirations had all but disintegrated and they weren’t expecting much of a fight from Texas anyway. But a fight they got. As both sidelines cleared and a melee of colorful verbiage, hard shoves, and few fisticuffs thrown I was fairly jacked up. It was clear we were swimming all up in their domes. And went into the half leading 20-0.
The bears took the field again and I thought to myself "As long as they don’t go to the Wildcat-… Oh boy…". The one thing I new that could beat us. Run the same play up the middle over and over and I knew we couldn’t stop it. If they had stayed in the wildcat for the majority of the second half I think they would’ve beat us. But instead they went to Lynx to try and ‘bruh’ their way back into the game. Thank God… Because our offense stalled. Again. Another fucking scoreless third quarter. And Baylor had closed the gap to 20-17. I wanted this win so bad… We had to hold on. Then Poona Ford stuck his big meaty paw and popped the ball loose from the Baylor running back. And all 291 pounds of his Pat Moorer sculpted body came crashing down to secure it. We only managed a field goal to put the game a little closer to out of reach. But the 2015 season came down to the Baylor running back heaving a Hail Mary prayer that would go unanswered to ensure that we ended our season with yet another improbable victory against the odds.
It was over. The season boiled down to a final record. 5-7. Surrounding that record is a bevvy of context as to why. However, I was left with the same feelings about this program that I’ve had for 5 years running. Texas had come up short. Again.
We beat OU and Baylor. Avenged a shut out loss at the hands of Kansas State a year ago. And we were a touchdown away from being 8-4. But we were blown out by Notre Dame and TCU. Posted yet another shut out against Iowa State. Sandwiched in between we had tragedies against Oklahoma State and Cal, fell flat on our faces against West Virginia, and allowed Tech to run all over us at home. The defense was historic. Historically bad. The offense was still stained with Watson’s stubbornness. And the lingering question mark hovering over the quarterback position let us all know that it was still refusing to recuse itself. The extremes of this season were so… well… they were extreme. From game to game we seemed to find new ways to lose… and new ways to win. But Texas wasn’t going bowling. And we were left to start the early examination that has seemed to take a firm foothold within the fan base… Charlie Strong.
Coach Strong. I’ll preface this little diatribe by saying that my opinion of Charlie Strong is somewhat skewed because I personally love the guy. I know he is a good man. There’s something to be said in today’s college football world of having a black man as not only a coach but as a mentor to so many young black men trying to make their way in the world. I want to believe that the way Strong is running this program, and the right way in my mind, will work at Texas. However, that is not to say that I will not admit he has made mistakes. He has. The amount of times in his two years as head coach that the team has looked flat unprepared makes me question his ability as a coach. Not as a man. But as a football savvy leader. It’s blatantly evident that the players love him. A lot of us love him. But coach… we have GOT to win some damn games… Thus the ultimate sentiment surrounding Charlie Strong at the close of his second season… Fire Charlie.
I find it frustrating that we are at a point as Texas fans where we are even entertaining the notion of firing any coach in their second season. It has been well documented as to how broken and rotted this program was when Strong got here. The truth is that anyone Texas hired to replace Mack was going to struggle. If we had hired someone else other than Strong would they have kicked off as many players as Strong did? Probably not. But does that mean those players would have produced on the field? Go look at what those players are up to now and you’ll see the answer is no. Thus we are left with a roster still in recovery from years of neglect and in desperate need of long-term vision to fix. The fact of the matter is that we do not have a team good enough to cover up the mistakes that every single coaching staff makes. Saban isn’t perfect. Neither is Harbaugh. But they have rosters in place that allow them substantial wiggle room to make those mistakes. Charlie Strong had basically a high school football team to work with this year.
The fan’s voice is now louder than ever with the vehicles that are the Internet and social media. I get that. We are allowed outlets for reactionary passions and knee-jerkery. And we should be permitted to air out those grievances at will. But once the fires have simmered and the pitch forks have been put down… We need patience.
Yes, Texas has high expectations. Yes, Texas makes the most money in college football. But money doesn’t translate to success on the field. With all the distractions around this program, money probably does more to hurt this program than it helps. It fosters entitlement. Texas made a huge mistake in hiring Patterson as the Athletic Director. He was basically an alien during his short tenure on the forty. Deaf and blind to the identity of what THE University of Texas is. We are not corporate. We are not jet packs. We are not in the business of fucking over the faithful. And when that soulless creature is running your Athletic Department you can imagine the type of support, or lack there of, Strong was getting from what he should expect. Despite the long list of grievances orchestrated by Patterson probably the most egregious was his total neglect of his head football coach. Irrational fires were raging all around and he was more concerned about the Texas brand in Mongolia. Not once did he step in to squash the inferno. And all of his money hoarding jackassery got him fired.
Now the fans can be divided over their opinions of Strong. But when taking a job at the University of Texas it means you inherit an aspect of stress that’s probably muttered under the breath when you sign your contract. "Oh and there’s just this one thing where people who give lots of money to the university will be calling and bitching about things they’re unhappy about and think their opinion matters. But that’s not a big deal. Welcome aboard!". Big money donors. I don’t know what truly transpired over the course of events of hiring our new Offensive Coordinator. But it doesn’t sit right with me. The fact that the President, Athletic Director, and Head Coach had to get on a plane and fly to mother fucking Tulsa to un-fuck the hiring of a man to come in and call plays for a football team is borderline psychotic. At the very least it’s ridiculous. If you want to pop your tin foil hat on and entertain the conspiracy theory line of thinking about how that played out then go right ahead. Because I sure as hell did.
After this season my sentiments surrounding Strong have settled into a hard truth. He needs time. Regardless of record. I love Strong on a personal level. But my concern is for the program. We need consistency. And desperately so. The narrative has to be that Strong came in and failed at Texas. The blame will need to be firmly at his feet. Firing a head coach in his second season is a blatant example of a toxic environment and I’m relieved we didn’t head down that road. If you think about it… the first time the head coaching position posted a vacancy sign it was as attractive as it will ever be. And we hired the head coach of Louisville. Not Saban. Not Harbaugh. Not the other Harbuagh. Not Chip. Not Gruden. Charlie Strong. Besides having to coach a football team the head coach of Texas has an incredible slate of bullshit to suffer through. A rabid, entitled fan base that expects without context. Meddling Big Money Donors that have the audacity to assume they know better than you. A still fledgling network trying to attain relevance. Add all of that into trying to rebuild a football program from scratch it’s kind of understandable where we are now.
So if we ended up firing Strong this season… or at the end of next season… Who’s going to want to coach here? When the narrative is that if you don’t turn things around in 5 minutes you, your family, your coaches’ families, will all be on the street looking for a new job. If the Texas job was as attractive as it will ever be and we hired Charlie Strong… what big name coach are we going to convince to come to Austin and take over a 5-year old dumpster fire? The quickest way for us to become the next Miami or Tennessee is to start axing coaches and bending to the whims of our expectations. I’m not happy about this season or any of the last 5 but I am certainly not at a point to condone my alma mater to start acting like me. We need patience. And we need to focus on the lifeblood of getting this program back on track. Recruits. Ho-lee-sheet, can this staff flat out recruit…
Regardless of how this recruiting class ends up manifesting as, you have to believe in what this coaching staff is doing on that front. To sell a 5-7 season to an 18-year-old kid in this day and age of college football is nothing short of a miracle. Strong’s first class did nothing short of come in, take over, and produce 3 Freshman All-Americans. If you want to start stockpiling moral victories and sunshine for next season then start there. At the very least let this coaching staff have three years to croot like they are. Come national signing if we end up signing a top 15 class… or top 10… you have to stop yourself and ask what sort of damage are they going to do when we start winning 10 games a year. I believe that Strong was the best option to come in and fix what Mack was neglecting. If you step back and look at the amount of talent that Strong has groomed over his short tenure then it will foster the patience that this program needs. A long-term solution was the answer. We’re in the middle of a LONG-term plan. We need to step back and reevaluate the idea of the patience. Not the word. But the idea.
Patience. "To be able to accept or tolerate delays, problems, or suffering without becoming annoyed or anxious." Okay… we can be annoyed and anxious… but do not let them deter the idea that it’s coming… We’re coming. We will be back. And sitting here today I believe that Charlie Strong will be the man to do it. We will be feared again. We will be Texas again. And if I have to suffer mediocrity in the short term to ensure that we build a new Texas football program the Charlie Strong way… then so be it.
So let us once again descend off into the unending night of the offseason. Watson is gone. Patterson is gone. Let us rejoice in those truths. New faces are among the longhorn faithful. It will be a long, cold journey to our first shot at revenge against Notre Dame in September. Our Saturdays will be void of seeing the horns take the field. We are now left to rehash grudges, grievances, and grumbles for 8 long months. But we can believe. Texas football will forever be a passion that I invest way too much in and spend hours compiling 10,000+ words to try and capture that emotion. For better or for worse I am bound to Texas Football. All the woe and misery. All the joy and celebration.
Spring will come. The practice reports will come. The hype videos will be posted. Names from last year will be written about. New names will start to surface. Summer will come and go. Time to buy in to all of our #’s. LetsRide. Believe. We will emerge on the other side amidst a distant September. The offseason is long and unforgiving. But it ends. Texas football is forever.
I leave you with a simple request, longhorn faithful… Be patient. It’s coming.
Hook ‘em horns.
