Uncle Jemima
6/12/2006, 06:32 PM
Hey husker fan here and I am looking for a website that sells "texas is gay" t-shirts with a rainbow over the state of Texas. I used to have it bookmarked, but I had to redo my harddrive and lost it. Thanks in advance
Hook 'em
Texas, super conference make for a perfect marriage
Longhorns dig into deep pockets and pull out new facilities, top-notch coaches and a host of titles.
By J. BRADY McCOLLOUGH
The Kansas City Star
DeLoss Dodds wishes he could explain how he felt on that January night.
There was his guy, Mack Brown, standing in front of his national championship football team, the confetti still stuck to the white jerseys. The locker-room speech was on the way, 35 years in the making.
“I hope this isn’t the best thing that ever happens to you,” Brown said.
Dodds smiled at that. This was big, probably bigger than even Mack could realize. Brown wasn’t there in 1997 when airplane banners flew over Memorial Stadium during Texas home games, urging the school to “Dump DeLoss and flush the John,” referring to then-head coach John Mackovic.
“Our program was a coach killer,” Dodds says. “For those guys, the timing just wasn’t right. Mack Brown has absolutely hit it right. He hit it when the Big 12 was established, and Texas kids wanted to be at Texas.”
Ten years ago, nobody needed the Big 12 more than Texas. From 1986 to 1995, Texas football compiled a record of 65-48-2, played in only four bowl games and saw three head coaches come through Austin. The Southwest Conference was dying, and Texas’ recruiting, facilities and fan base had slipped through the cracks along with it.
Today, the Longhorns have awoken. Always known as the ultimate “fat cat,” Texas actually backs up the label with state-of-the-art facilities, an overflowing budget and a top-notch coaching staff.
Brown isn’t the only Dodds hire who’s made an imprint. The Texas basketball team under Rick Barnes was a win away from a second trip to the Final Four this year, and Augie Garrido’s bunch won the College World Series a year ago.
But, this is Texas we’re talking about here, which means this is a football story. After 10 years in the Big 12, it’s cool to be a Texas fan. The kids are wearing burnt orange again, and even the MTV reality series “The Real World” had to get its Austin fix.
“I don’t know if we would have been able to do all of this if not for the Big 12,” says former Texas football coach David McWilliams. “Texas needed to make a change.”
•••
In the mid-1980s, college athletics were changing, and television was the driving force. For years, the NCAA’s football television plan had favored the “haves,” which meant it favored Texas. The plan only allowed for one game to be telecast nationally each Saturday on one of the three major networks.
But in 1981, Georgia and Oklahoma sued the NCAA, hoping to release themselves from the organization’s control of TV broadcasts. Three years later, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled against the NCAA and in favor of the universities, a monumental decision.
Suddenly, in 1984, about eight games each Saturday were being brought to Texas TV sets. Kids weren’t just watching the Longhorns. ESPN, coming of age then, introduced them to Miami and Florida State.
Of course, it didn’t help Texas that the Southwest Conference had lost all control and reputability. SMU was given the death penalty, and other schools, including Texas, had committed recruiting violations.
In the late ’80s, Texas lost its stronghold on the state in recruiting. Take the class of 1989, for example. Dallas blue-chippers Jessie Armstead, the top-ranked defensive lineman, and Kevin Williams, the top-ranked receiver, both went to Miami. This was happening every year.
Recruiting for the Texas coach was no longer a matter of showing up and doling out firm handshakes. The top schools nationally had newer and better facilities and played in conferences that allowed kids to travel the country. After Arkansas left the Southwest Conference, that left eight schools, all in Texas. A great season for the Longhorns meant they were going to Dallas for the bowl trip.
“The young men today, they like to go and play in different parts of the country,” says McWilliams, who compiled a 31-26 record from 1987 to 1991. “All of a sudden, we saw more national recruiting coming in than ever before. There was negative recruiting against us: ‘They’ll take you to Dallas, Waco and Fort Worth.’ The kid says, ‘I’ve been to all those places.’ ”
All this time, the Texas alumni sat back and watched. Fred Akers, the Texas head coach from 1977 to 1986, says that he met numerous times with Texas power brokers and explained that Texas’ facilities were behind. Akers says they didn’t believe him.
“As long as you had a fresh coat of paint,” Akers says, “those locker rooms were just fine. I think for a while there, Texas fans kind of lowered their expectations.”
Texas fans didn’t understand how far their beloved program had fallen until Jan. 1, 1991. Texas was 10-1 and ranked No. 3 in the country going into the Cotton Bowl against No. 4 Miami. The Hurricanes, boasting top Texas talent, smacked the Longhorns around, 46-3.
“It looked like a track meet,” says McWilliams, who resigned a year later after a 5-6 season. “It was a shocking moment for our fans. It’s something that slips up on you. You look up, and this thing is a lot worse than we thought.”
John Mackovic brought no quick fixes. Under Mackovic, Texas continued to lose out on the top in-state talent. The Longhorns lost an ESPN game to Rice in 1994 and fell to Baylor twice in his five years.
•••
If Mackovic did one thing, he ushered Texas into the Big 12 era in style. The Longhorns upset Nebraska in the inaugural Big 12 title game on the wings of a gutsy fourth-and-short passing play.
By itself, joining the Big 12 brought some excitement back to Austin.
“You kind of got a little lazy in that Southwest Conference,” says James Brown, the Texas quarterback during 1994-97. “The Big 12 put us on a national stage. It kind of made us work harder in that offseason before the Big 12.”
But Texas needed more than just players who work harder. To recruit in the Big 12 and reclaim its own state, Texas needed facilities it could be proud of. In short, the athletic department needed its massive alumni base to give back. Dodds had started the Longhorn Foundation, which is for annual giving, but the Longhorns would need bigger, “special” gifts.
Famous Texas attorney Joe Jamail had been giving millions to the university for scholarships. He stopped giving money to athletics when good friend and former Texas football coach Darrell Royal retired in 1977. Twenty years later, Royal called Jamail.
“Joe,” he said, “we need to talk. We need to get this football program back on track. Can DeLoss and I come see you?”
Jamail visited them instead. They told him that Iowa State had better facilities.
“That motivated me,” Jamail says.
Jamail signed a check for $5 million, and the Joe Jamail Field at Darrel K. Royal Memorial Stadium was born.
And when Mackovic was fired after a 4-7 season in 1997, the stage was set for Brown. The renovations had started on the west side of the stadium, and the luxury boxes were being built.
“I don’t think Mack Brown and Rick Barnes would have come if we were still in the Southwest Conference,” says Butch Worley, an associate athletic director who helped sell both coaches.
Texas had to promise Barnes a basketball practice facility to persuade him to leave Clemson. That would be no problem, now that Jamail had gotten the ball rolling.
“When you’re trying to hire people at that level,” Worley says, “you have to show them you’re committed, and if you don’t have what they feel they need, you have to convince them that you’ll get it.”
•••
Darrell Royal put it to Mack Brown like this: The Texas football program and its fans were like a bunch of BBs that had been spilled. Mack had to get all of those BBs back in the box, pulling for the same cause.
Brown started by bringing Royal back into the program’s inner circle. He invited former players back for reunions on game days. He sold himself to the state’s high school coaches. And, to begin his first season in 1998, he challenged the Texas fans with a new mantra: “Come early, stay late, wear orange.”
“It was vital for him to make football important again,” says Bill Little, a longtime Texas official and a special assistant to Brown. “The most dangerous thing is complacency. If you have complacency, you have a problem. Texas was almost to that point. It had been in the valley for so long, the idea of getting back was really kind of a stretch.”
Texas inched closer during Brown’s first seven seasons, going 70-19 and winning no fewer than nine games in any season. The Texas alumni and fans suddenly felt entitled to national championships again, which is why losing to Bob Stoops and Oklahoma five straight years sent Brown to the guillotine in the court of public opinion.
But that all seems far away now, doesn’t it? The Longhorns are defending national champions, and the money keeps piling up. The athletic department revenue hovers around $90 million. Iowa State, meanwhile, is at $28 million. Texas is close to finishing a $50 million capital campaign that will add 10,000 seats in the north end zone and more luxury boxes.
As for recruiting, Brown and his staff have already locked up 21 recruits for the class of 2007, 19 of whom are from Texas.
These days, the negativity has been wiped out. Perhaps it’s fitting that the Longhorn coronation happened at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, a Big 12 team playing in the shadows of the San Gabriel Mountains on Jan. 4, of all things. This was Texas in the modern era of college football. A Longhorn New Year is to be spent in Pasadena, New Orleans, Miami, or Tempe, Ariz., and a trip to Dallas for the Cotton Bowl is now a sign of underachievement.
That fateful night, Brown knew whom to thank. He called his close friend Joe Jamail, whose wife, Lee, was recovering from a bout with lung cancer.
“How’s Lee?” Brown asked.
“She’s fine,” Jamail said. “Why did you decide to beat them so bad, Coach?”
“Lawyer,” Brown said, “I hope you like that.”
“I did,” Jamail said. “Call me when you get home.”
Hook 'em
Texas, super conference make for a perfect marriage
Longhorns dig into deep pockets and pull out new facilities, top-notch coaches and a host of titles.
By J. BRADY McCOLLOUGH
The Kansas City Star
DeLoss Dodds wishes he could explain how he felt on that January night.
There was his guy, Mack Brown, standing in front of his national championship football team, the confetti still stuck to the white jerseys. The locker-room speech was on the way, 35 years in the making.
“I hope this isn’t the best thing that ever happens to you,” Brown said.
Dodds smiled at that. This was big, probably bigger than even Mack could realize. Brown wasn’t there in 1997 when airplane banners flew over Memorial Stadium during Texas home games, urging the school to “Dump DeLoss and flush the John,” referring to then-head coach John Mackovic.
“Our program was a coach killer,” Dodds says. “For those guys, the timing just wasn’t right. Mack Brown has absolutely hit it right. He hit it when the Big 12 was established, and Texas kids wanted to be at Texas.”
Ten years ago, nobody needed the Big 12 more than Texas. From 1986 to 1995, Texas football compiled a record of 65-48-2, played in only four bowl games and saw three head coaches come through Austin. The Southwest Conference was dying, and Texas’ recruiting, facilities and fan base had slipped through the cracks along with it.
Today, the Longhorns have awoken. Always known as the ultimate “fat cat,” Texas actually backs up the label with state-of-the-art facilities, an overflowing budget and a top-notch coaching staff.
Brown isn’t the only Dodds hire who’s made an imprint. The Texas basketball team under Rick Barnes was a win away from a second trip to the Final Four this year, and Augie Garrido’s bunch won the College World Series a year ago.
But, this is Texas we’re talking about here, which means this is a football story. After 10 years in the Big 12, it’s cool to be a Texas fan. The kids are wearing burnt orange again, and even the MTV reality series “The Real World” had to get its Austin fix.
“I don’t know if we would have been able to do all of this if not for the Big 12,” says former Texas football coach David McWilliams. “Texas needed to make a change.”
•••
In the mid-1980s, college athletics were changing, and television was the driving force. For years, the NCAA’s football television plan had favored the “haves,” which meant it favored Texas. The plan only allowed for one game to be telecast nationally each Saturday on one of the three major networks.
But in 1981, Georgia and Oklahoma sued the NCAA, hoping to release themselves from the organization’s control of TV broadcasts. Three years later, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled against the NCAA and in favor of the universities, a monumental decision.
Suddenly, in 1984, about eight games each Saturday were being brought to Texas TV sets. Kids weren’t just watching the Longhorns. ESPN, coming of age then, introduced them to Miami and Florida State.
Of course, it didn’t help Texas that the Southwest Conference had lost all control and reputability. SMU was given the death penalty, and other schools, including Texas, had committed recruiting violations.
In the late ’80s, Texas lost its stronghold on the state in recruiting. Take the class of 1989, for example. Dallas blue-chippers Jessie Armstead, the top-ranked defensive lineman, and Kevin Williams, the top-ranked receiver, both went to Miami. This was happening every year.
Recruiting for the Texas coach was no longer a matter of showing up and doling out firm handshakes. The top schools nationally had newer and better facilities and played in conferences that allowed kids to travel the country. After Arkansas left the Southwest Conference, that left eight schools, all in Texas. A great season for the Longhorns meant they were going to Dallas for the bowl trip.
“The young men today, they like to go and play in different parts of the country,” says McWilliams, who compiled a 31-26 record from 1987 to 1991. “All of a sudden, we saw more national recruiting coming in than ever before. There was negative recruiting against us: ‘They’ll take you to Dallas, Waco and Fort Worth.’ The kid says, ‘I’ve been to all those places.’ ”
All this time, the Texas alumni sat back and watched. Fred Akers, the Texas head coach from 1977 to 1986, says that he met numerous times with Texas power brokers and explained that Texas’ facilities were behind. Akers says they didn’t believe him.
“As long as you had a fresh coat of paint,” Akers says, “those locker rooms were just fine. I think for a while there, Texas fans kind of lowered their expectations.”
Texas fans didn’t understand how far their beloved program had fallen until Jan. 1, 1991. Texas was 10-1 and ranked No. 3 in the country going into the Cotton Bowl against No. 4 Miami. The Hurricanes, boasting top Texas talent, smacked the Longhorns around, 46-3.
“It looked like a track meet,” says McWilliams, who resigned a year later after a 5-6 season. “It was a shocking moment for our fans. It’s something that slips up on you. You look up, and this thing is a lot worse than we thought.”
John Mackovic brought no quick fixes. Under Mackovic, Texas continued to lose out on the top in-state talent. The Longhorns lost an ESPN game to Rice in 1994 and fell to Baylor twice in his five years.
•••
If Mackovic did one thing, he ushered Texas into the Big 12 era in style. The Longhorns upset Nebraska in the inaugural Big 12 title game on the wings of a gutsy fourth-and-short passing play.
By itself, joining the Big 12 brought some excitement back to Austin.
“You kind of got a little lazy in that Southwest Conference,” says James Brown, the Texas quarterback during 1994-97. “The Big 12 put us on a national stage. It kind of made us work harder in that offseason before the Big 12.”
But Texas needed more than just players who work harder. To recruit in the Big 12 and reclaim its own state, Texas needed facilities it could be proud of. In short, the athletic department needed its massive alumni base to give back. Dodds had started the Longhorn Foundation, which is for annual giving, but the Longhorns would need bigger, “special” gifts.
Famous Texas attorney Joe Jamail had been giving millions to the university for scholarships. He stopped giving money to athletics when good friend and former Texas football coach Darrell Royal retired in 1977. Twenty years later, Royal called Jamail.
“Joe,” he said, “we need to talk. We need to get this football program back on track. Can DeLoss and I come see you?”
Jamail visited them instead. They told him that Iowa State had better facilities.
“That motivated me,” Jamail says.
Jamail signed a check for $5 million, and the Joe Jamail Field at Darrel K. Royal Memorial Stadium was born.
And when Mackovic was fired after a 4-7 season in 1997, the stage was set for Brown. The renovations had started on the west side of the stadium, and the luxury boxes were being built.
“I don’t think Mack Brown and Rick Barnes would have come if we were still in the Southwest Conference,” says Butch Worley, an associate athletic director who helped sell both coaches.
Texas had to promise Barnes a basketball practice facility to persuade him to leave Clemson. That would be no problem, now that Jamail had gotten the ball rolling.
“When you’re trying to hire people at that level,” Worley says, “you have to show them you’re committed, and if you don’t have what they feel they need, you have to convince them that you’ll get it.”
•••
Darrell Royal put it to Mack Brown like this: The Texas football program and its fans were like a bunch of BBs that had been spilled. Mack had to get all of those BBs back in the box, pulling for the same cause.
Brown started by bringing Royal back into the program’s inner circle. He invited former players back for reunions on game days. He sold himself to the state’s high school coaches. And, to begin his first season in 1998, he challenged the Texas fans with a new mantra: “Come early, stay late, wear orange.”
“It was vital for him to make football important again,” says Bill Little, a longtime Texas official and a special assistant to Brown. “The most dangerous thing is complacency. If you have complacency, you have a problem. Texas was almost to that point. It had been in the valley for so long, the idea of getting back was really kind of a stretch.”
Texas inched closer during Brown’s first seven seasons, going 70-19 and winning no fewer than nine games in any season. The Texas alumni and fans suddenly felt entitled to national championships again, which is why losing to Bob Stoops and Oklahoma five straight years sent Brown to the guillotine in the court of public opinion.
But that all seems far away now, doesn’t it? The Longhorns are defending national champions, and the money keeps piling up. The athletic department revenue hovers around $90 million. Iowa State, meanwhile, is at $28 million. Texas is close to finishing a $50 million capital campaign that will add 10,000 seats in the north end zone and more luxury boxes.
As for recruiting, Brown and his staff have already locked up 21 recruits for the class of 2007, 19 of whom are from Texas.
These days, the negativity has been wiped out. Perhaps it’s fitting that the Longhorn coronation happened at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, a Big 12 team playing in the shadows of the San Gabriel Mountains on Jan. 4, of all things. This was Texas in the modern era of college football. A Longhorn New Year is to be spent in Pasadena, New Orleans, Miami, or Tempe, Ariz., and a trip to Dallas for the Cotton Bowl is now a sign of underachievement.
That fateful night, Brown knew whom to thank. He called his close friend Joe Jamail, whose wife, Lee, was recovering from a bout with lung cancer.
“How’s Lee?” Brown asked.
“She’s fine,” Jamail said. “Why did you decide to beat them so bad, Coach?”
“Lawyer,” Brown said, “I hope you like that.”
“I did,” Jamail said. “Call me when you get home.”