Showing posts with label Southwest Conference. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Southwest Conference. Show all posts

Thursday, December 8, 2011

The Swan Song for Two Legends



When I was a boy in Arkansas, as I have written here before, I was a fan of the Arkansas Razorbacks — like nearly everyone else.

Many of my earliest memories are of Saturday afternoons at my friends' houses — where, more often than not, the Razorback play–by–play could be heard on the radio in the kitchen or the living room.

I'm still a Razorback fan, but many things are different for me now. Yet, sometimes, when the breeze blows just so or I catch the scent of honeysuckle in the evening air or I feel a slight chill after an autumn rain shower, my memory bank conjures up, however briefly, a snippet from my childhood.

Most of the time, I don't remember the game or the circumstances — or the names of people whose faces I can see in my mind's eye for a second or two.

I only know that it is a link to a time that was early in my life, when things seemed more reliable, more stable.

Maybe that was one of the things that I always liked about the Razorbacks. They were reassuringly constant. They almost always had competitive teams, and I always got excited when Arkansas and Texas were about to play.

I guess you could say there were three things that I felt I could count on in those days:
  • Frank Broyles was the coach of the Razorbacks. There had never been any other head coach at Arkansas in my lifetime.

  • Darrell Royal was the coach of the Longhorns. There had never been any other head coach at Texas in my lifetime.

  • The Arkansas–Texas football game was always televised. (That wasn't as routine as it might seem to 21st century football fans, who are used to the idea that most of their favorite team's games will be televised. There was no cable in those days, and there were restrictions on the number of regular–season TV appearances a team could have.)
Probably the most memorable of the Arkansas–Texas games in my childhood was the one played in December 1969. It is remembered as the "Great Shootout," and it was so big it brought the president of the United States to tiny Fayetteville, Ark.

I may be wrong, but I believe that, until native Arkansan Bill Clinton came to dedicate a statue on the UA campus, it was the only time a sitting president ever came to Fayetteville.

That game, I must say, was not an example of stability — and not only because it drew higher–profile attendees than usual.

Ordinarily, Arkansas and Texas met in mid–October — but, because everyone figured they were the two best teams in the country, they were persuaded to move their 1969 game to the first week in December, when no other games would be played (this was a couple of decades before conferences started holding championship games), and the attention of the nation would be on that game alone.

And, in fact, the gamble paid off. It turned out that Texas was ranked #1 in the nation and Arkansas was ranked #2 when they met in Fayetteville on that December day. The winner would go to the Cotton Bowl to play Notre Dame for the national title, but the president was on hand to prematurely proclaim the winner the national champion.

When the game was over, I remember watching President Nixon gush about the Longhorns as he presented them with a national championship plaque that he said would be engraved with the winning school's name — and I noted bitterly that he hadn't said anything about the Razorbacks, who had shut out the Longhorns for the first three quarters.

If Texas was the best team in the nation, I reasoned, Arkansas was nearly as good. The Longhorns beat the Razorbacks by a single point that day.

I didn't dream that, nearly seven years later to the day, in another Arkansas–Texas game that had been moved to December, Broyles and Royal would leave the sidelines together for the last time.

I'm not sure if I ever knew the reasons why Arkansas and Texas agreed to move their 1976 game to early December. They had shared the Southwest Conference championship with Texas A&M the year before, and perhaps the ABC executives were gambling that, as in 1969, the two would be the best teams in the conference — if not the nation.

If that was the gamble, though, it came up way short of expectations. Arkansas and Texas tumbled out of contention early that season. Newcomer Houston won the conference title and went to the Cotton Bowl. Neither Arkansas nor Texas played in a bowl game that season so 35 years ago last weekend, the coaching careers of Broyles and Royal came to an end.

I don't know when or why those two men decided to retire from coaching. It just always seemed right that they did so at the same time. I couldn't imagine watching another Arkansas–Texas game and seeing one but not both on the sidelines.

Both continued to influence athletics as the athletic directors at the schools where they had built their coaching reputations.

And Broyles, at least, continued to wield the kind of power that successful football coaches in small states tend to wield. During his coaching days — and afterward, as athletic director — Broyles was, arguably, the most influential individual in Arkansas — more powerful than governors or senators, more revered than ministers (and, in devoutly religious Arkansas, that truly is saying something).

Broyles retired a few years ago. He's still living — he'll be 87 the day after Christmas — and, while he may still be an influential figure within Arkansas, outside the state one hears little about him anymore.

Royal marked his 87th birthday last summer. One hears even less of him. After he stopped coaching, he continued, as Broyles did, to serve as the school's athletic director, but only for a few years. Texas re–named its football stadium in his honor, and you hear his name mentioned whenever the Longhorns play in big games, but he has mostly remained out of the spotlight for the last three decades.

He now serves as a special assistant to the UT president — which sounds a lot like professor emeritus. If that is, indeed, what it is, he earned the honor, winning nearly three–quarters of the college games in which he coached.

Likewise, Broyles enjoyed a successful coaching career. He won more than two–thirds of his games, and he remains the only Arkansas football coach to win 100 or more games.

Current coach Bobby Petrino would have to win every regular season game, every conference championship game and every postseason bowl game from now until the end of this decade to match Broyles — and, since Broyles' 1964 team was the last Arkansas team to go through an entire season without losing, it seems likely that Petrino would have to remain at Arkansas well beyond 2019.

Even at his present pace (10 wins in each of the last two seasons), it would take Petrino until the year 2023.

Of course, if he manages to do that, he is sure to replace Broyles as the most powerful man in Arkansas — by which time, Broyles is likely to be deceased or far too old to care. In the immediate future, though, Broyles' status is secure.

Royal is also the winningest coach in Texas history, but the current coach, 60–year–old Mack Brown, needs only 35 wins to pass him.

In 2005, Brown became the second Texas coach to win a national championship. Royal was the first, and he went on to win three of them. Brown needs two more to match him.

No matter how you slice it, Broyles and Royal are living legends, and, for many long–time fans of both schools, their legacies are intertwined, like the epic boxing duels between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier or the tennis matches between Chris Evert and Martina Navratilova or the Triple Crown races between Affirmed and Alydar.

It was fitting that they ended their coaching careers together.

Monday, June 27, 2011

The Conference of Champions

About 20 years ago, I recall visiting my friends in my home state of Arkansas.

One evening while I was there, we all went out to visit a friend who lived in the country. We roasted hot dogs and drank beer. Some of my friends played their guitars. The rest of us talked.

At the time, the big topic of conversation was whether the University of Arkansas' athletic program should leave the Southwest Conference and join the Southeastern Conference.

For the previous two years, I had been living in Texas, the home state of all the other members of the SWC — but, before that, I had lived practically my entire life in Arkansas. I had grown up with the Southwest Conference, and I couldn't imagine the Razorbacks competing in any other conference

So, initially, I was against the idea. But my friends were all in favor of it, and I reluctantly embraced it. The move meant giving up some of my favorite annual sporting events — the football games against Texas and Texas A&M (and, because my parents were graduates of SMU and my grandparents had lived in Dallas all my life, I always enjoyed the Arkansas–SMU games, too — but SMU had fallen on hard times by then so that was a rivalry that was easy for me to give up) — but my friends assured me the move would mean more nationally televised games in every sport, hence more money for the athletic department.

In the end, it didn't really matter how I felt about it. Arkansas left the Southwest Conference after being a member for close to 80 years — and, a few years later, the remaining members of the SWC went their separate ways. Perhaps the SWC was already crumbling when Arkansas made its move.

As a graduate of Arkansas and a lifelong supporter of the Razorbacks, I have to say the move has paid off. Since moving to the SEC, Arkansas has played in two national championship games in basketball (and won one of them) and it has played in a couple of college World Series, too.

And the Razorbacks have enjoyed the reflected glory from other SEC teams who have won it all in their sports.

In basketball, SEC teams have won the national title five times since Arkansas left the SWC, starting with Arkansas' national championship in 1994 — and seven other SEC teams have advanced to the Final Four in that time.

SEC football teams have won five consecutive national titles, and three of the last four Heisman Trophy winners have come from the SEC.

And this week, either Florida or South Carolina will make it three straight national championships for the SEC in baseball.

The college world series, of course, is a double–elimination tournament. The finals, therefore, are best–of–three, with Game 1 to be played tonight, weather permitting (no rain in the forecast right now). Game 2 will be played tomorrow night and, if a third game is needed, it will be played Wednesday.

It should be exciting. Kirk Kenney reminds everyone in Sports Illustrated that South Carolina is the defending champion, and Florida is looking for its first national title — so South Carolina, by virtue of its experience, rates a slight edge.

But it is more than that, Kenney writes. Carolina went 2–1 in a series at Florida in March, and the Gamecocks have won their last 14 consecutive tournament games — "and there's no sign of the streak coming to an end."

Sounds like a daunting task, doesn't it?

But one thing I have learned from watching the SEC for the last couple of decades is that the teams that compete in it never give up until the game is over.

That's how the SEC has won all those championships.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Bellard Was a Latter-Day Texas Pioneer



I have had several thoughts about Emory Bellard since I heard of his death at the age of 83 yesterday.

And I have come to the conclusion that he rarely received the credit he deserved.

That may be hard for some football enthusiasts to accept. Bellard was a pioneer in Texas, a football coach who revolutionized the sport at the University of Texas with his wishbone offense. Well, that is what they say.

Bruce Weber of the New York Times calls the wishbone Bellard's "signature contribution" to the game.

In some ways, I guess that is true. It certainly changed things at the University of Texas, which had been struggling until the Longhorns' head coach, Darrell Royal, came to Bellard, an assistant at UT, in 1968 and asked him to come up with an offense that would shake things up.

He answered that challenge with the wishbone formation, which was designed to operate a triple option with a lead blocker. It sure changed things at Texas. In the next four seasons, the Longhorns were 38–5–1 with one national title (almost two), a perfect season (almost two), a 30–game winning streak and four Cotton Bowl appearances as Southwest Conference champions.

Then, in 1972, Bellard took the head coaching position at Texas' arch rival, Texas A&M. In so doing, he embodied the civil war that has been fought in generations of Texas families that have counted graduates of both UT and A&M among their ranks.

After Bellard's departure, Texas continued to thrive, winning two more SWC titles before going into a tailspin in Royal's final year at the helm in 1976.

Bellard's Aggies, meanwhile, struggled, losing their annual showdown with the Longhorns three straight times. It wouldn't have been fair to blame Bellard for that, though. The Aggies had lost to the Longhorns in most of their previous 20 meetings, including the four before Bellard arrived in College Station.

But he turned things around in 1975, winning the annual Thanksgiving showdown and coming within a single victory of taking the Aggies to the Cotton Bowl.

Bellard was never a head coach in the Cotton Bowl, only an assistant. He left A&M in the middle of the 1978 season after the Aggies lost consecutive games to Houston and Baylor.

While Bellard gets credit from a lot of people for developing the wishbone, there is some doubt about that. Former Oklahoma coach Barry Switzer insists that a coach at a high school in Fort Worth actually developed the wishbone in the 1950s. Perhaps Bellard modified something he had seen as a high school coach in the 1950s and early 1960s for use on the college level.

If he did, though, he also applied elements of the veer offense that was being run at the University of Houston and the variation of the triple option that was being used by Gene Stallings at A&M.

So perhaps the wishbone was not strictly Bellard's revolutionary innovation.

But Richard Justice of the Houston Chronicle reminds us of something that was Bellard's innovation — the integration of the A&M football program.

"In 1972, we had one black player on scholarship," R.C. Slocum, one of Bellard's assistants at A&M, said. "Now you can imagine the reputation of Texas A&M at that point. Not just A&M, but pretty much everybody in the Southwest Conference.

"Not many people appreciate what a bold step that was, to bring in nine black players to a place that had virtually no blacks. The deeper story is trust. It's the kind of man he was. Parents trusted him to do the right thing."


Earlier this week, Justice reports, two of those black players came to see Bellard on his deathbed and thank him for what he had done.

As Justice observed, the integration of the Aggie football program was Bellard's true legacy. Integration undoubtedly would have come eventually. Bellard just saw to it that it arrived that much sooner.