For you “older” UT Fans!

[DanTheHorn 4,925]

I had no idea the longhorn logo was so recent. So I went out and found what the uniform looked like before the logo. Here is the only thing I could find. Now the article said the helmet had numbers but this one does not have numbers so can't verify this was the actual uniform but I have to assume it is the uniform from 1960.

 

[LTtxfan 49,212]

Smokey sounds out a huge cannon blast, a perfect smoke circle rises above the sweltering field. You imagine a football sailing right through the center of the white smoke circle as you see it emblazoned against the clear, blue North Texas sky. You hear the band playing “Texas Fight” at what seems like an impossibly fast tempo and an ungodly loud volume in your helmet. You run. Your teammates are jumping all over you. You may cry.

You aren’t alone.

The swelling noise is louder than ever and you get to run out into that sunlight one last time. You’ll never get to feel this way again. 

 

 

[LTtxfan 49,212]

The Tunnel: A Longhorn Remembers His Final Red River Rivalry

BY BILLY SCHOTT   OCTOBER 9, 2014

Billy Schott, BS ’83, a former Longhorns placekicker and wide receiver, remembers his final journey through the Cotton Bowl tunnel as a player.

Quote

When you’re given the final word from the TV guy to leave the locker room and head down the short flight of steps to the top of the tunnel, you step out into a surreal, confusing world of childish taunts and many an inverted Hook ’em being hurled from the walkway above. Stadium security personnel in cheap windbreakers and several members of the Dallas Police Department man the long, tarp-covered gate behind you. You recognize a couple of the motorcycle cops that led the police escort through the streets of Dallas a couple of hours ago; an officer smiles as he gives you a quick salute and a Hook ’em. You return the salute and mouth a quick “Thank you” to the officer.

You’re told by the TV guy to wait at the top of the ramp. There’s no breeze—it’s hot.

Someone steps out of a black limo just outside the gate and is quickly escorted by Texas DPS troopers through the gathering and hurried down the ramp. Must be the governor or a senator or Willie—you can’t really see over the glare of all the glistening white helmets shining in the October sunshine.

The smell of diesel fumes, horse crap, and fried food wafts through the air, mingling with the sulfur smell of residue from the RUF/NEKS’ shotguns and Smokey’s pregame cannon shots. You can always smell the State Fair.

The ticketless, orange-clad well-wishers behind the chainlink gate, trying to get a quick look from a player or coach, are the only friendly voices you hear at that end of the Cotton Bowl.

“Get after ’em, Darrell!”

“Go Horns!”

“Anybody got a ticket?!”

“Can I have your chinstrap?”

No “OU Sucks” chants—these are the days before that sentiment became the norm.

Strangely, above the yelling, the dull din of bus engines, police motorcycles, and the screaming siren from a ride over on the midway, you can hear the clicking of the candy-wrapping machines in the salt water taffy booth just across the walkway beyond the gate.

You’ve been taught to keep your focus, to look toward the light at the bottom of the tunnel as you move slowly downhill. You’re wedged so tightly together that your feet are barely touching the ribbed, dirty concrete below. It’s like you’re slowly floating down the ramp suspended among your fellow team members. You’re in the shade of the tunnel now, beneath the stomping, screaming Sooner fans in the south end of the stadium. It’s cooler, but you’re having trouble catching your breath.

You can’t help but steal a glance at your opponents as they assemble and begin to move down the ramp on the opposite side. You’ve seen them all through pregame warmups, exchanged subdued good luck wishes to a misguided former high school teammate who wandered across the Red River, but suddenly, this instant is etched forever in your mind. The crimson helmets with the white interlocked “OU” really piss you off at this moment and the bile rises in the back of your throat. You feel like you might lose your steak and scrambled eggs you ate four hours before in the quiet banquet room at the Hilton Inn. You don’t want to puke on your facemask—or on your teammate’s back.

Instead of letting the remnants of your pregame meal fly, you choke it back and begin to yell out an unintelligible guttural sound. Your teammates join in and the sound reverberates in your helmet. Your mouth is dry, your chest is pounding. All of a sudden, your uniform is too tight. A huge groundswell of noise engulfs you as you move closer to the light, louder and louder. You’re glad you have your helmet on, not because you think that one of those over-served, jeering Okies will lob a half-eaten Fletcher’s Corny Dog at you, but you feel secure and impervious when you manage to reach your hand up and snap your chinstrap snugly as you move into the sunlight at the bottom of the ramp. You realize then how much you’ve been sweating as the swirling breeze on the floor of the stadium finally gets to the back of your neck and cools you ever so slightly.

The roaring sound echoing in your helmet reaches a crescendo as the TV guy tries to hold back your screaming, snarling teammates. You look around and the sudden reality hits you: This is it. This is the last time you’ll ever experience this feeling as a player in what you have grown up knowing to be the greatest football contest in the universe. You may get a chance to walk the ramp again, but not wearing this uniform, with these guys, against those guys.

Tears well in your eyes, a huge lump rises in your throat as you begin to hear curses hurled at the TV guy to let you go, just let us run out on that crappy turf one more time. You hear the TV guy yell something about the World Series game being nearly over and to hold on for just one more minute, and one of your larger teammates instructs the TV guy to perform a physically impossible task with a baseball.

You and your teammates surge forward, frenzied and frothing. You look toward Coach Royal, who has appeared just to your left—he looks to be alone in his thoughts. His jaw is set. He has to hear the taunts of “Traitor!” directed his way. You feel more contempt for the red-clad fans leering over the tunnel walls as they wave red and white pom-poms at your coach’s face. You wish the woman would fall over the wall as she screams, “Darrell, you ain’t sheeyit!”

He is perturbed at the delay. He gives a simple nod and the human dam breaks. The TV guy is left to fend for himself. He may have been trampled, but you don’t really care at this point. Smokey sounds out a huge cannon blast, a perfect smoke circle rises above the sweltering field. You imagine a football sailing right through the center of the white smoke circle as you see it emblazoned against the clear, blue North Texas sky. You hear the band playing “Texas Fight” at what seems like an impossibly fast tempo and an ungodly loud volume in your helmet. You run. Your teammates are jumping all over you. You may cry.

You aren’t alone.

The swelling noise is louder than ever and you get to run out into that sunlight one last time. You’ll never get to feel this way again.

               Hook 'em 🤘

 

https://alcalde.texasexes.org/2014/10/the-tunnel-a-longhorn-remembers-his-final-red-river-rivalry/

[Napoleon 8,684]

On 10/10/2024 at 12:10 PM, LonghornJones said:

Oshmans was the sporting goods store we went to when we visited the big city of Austin.

Oshman’s was in Dallas as well.

Never went to Rooster Andrews’ Sportin’ Goods when I was in college, but roommate/suitemates and others who were from Austin or who were the sons of Longhorns did mention it and have a story or two.

[CycleTex87 2,970]

 

Edited October 11 by CycleTex87

[Armybrat 40,850]

[Harrison Stafford 3,335]

1 hour ago, Napoleon said:

Oshman’s was in Dallas as well.

Never went to Rooster Andrews’ Sportin’ Goods when I was in college, but roommate/suitemates and others who were from Austin or who were the sons of Longhorns did mention it and have a story or two.

Oshman’s was headquartered in Houston. Back in the day, I lived near 38th and Speedway and could walk to Rooster’s.

[NeverMarryAStripper 21,907]

6 hours ago, DanTheHorn said:

I had no idea the longhorn logo was so recent. So I went out and found what the uniform looked like before the logo. Here is the only thing I could find. Now the article said the helmet had numbers but this one does not have numbers so can't verify this was the actual uniform but I have to assume it is the uniform from 1960.

 

Looks like the horn logo was on the helmets in 1963

[DanTheHorn 4,925]

26 minutes ago, NeverMarryAStripper said:

Looks like the horn logo was on the helmets in 1963

1961 is what the story says. That to me is recent.

Edited October 11 by DanTheHorn

[Earl Haffler 597]

On 9/8/2021 at 10:49 PM, msucolt45 said:

Fred Akers

Yeah, but did you ever do the "Freddie Akers Dance"?

[CycleTex87 2,970]

I remember the Freddy Akers dance sung to the tune of Safety Dance. 
 

 

 

 

 

but I’m not old….

Edited October 11 by CycleTex87

[Harrison Stafford 3,335]

“Kick another field goal, Freddie.”

[BachelorTrek 2,982]

6 hours ago, NeverMarryAStripper said:

Looks like the horn logo was on the helmets in 1963

Emmet Augustus Carlisle, III  -- AKA "Duke" Carlisle!

[Pods 7,552]

6 hours ago, Harrison Stafford said:

“Kick another field goal, Freddie.”

Whoa, hey there. That's a lot of points. To do that, he might have to turn the page. 

[cochamps 1,879]

A friend told me that the great Bibb Falk would show up at Rooster's with stories after his daily swim at Barton Springs.  Would love to have been there for that.

[msucolt45 4,062]

Emmet Augustus Carlisle, III  -- AKA "Duke" Carlisle!

Duke and the other teammates at the 2023 reunion. 60 Year anniversary of the ‘63 Championship team.

Hook’em!!!

[msucolt45 4,062]

Dad and Tony Crosby, the bare footed “straight on” kicker from the ‘63 team. Both were tiny Hardin County boys. Dad from Sour Lake and Tony from Kountze.

Hook’em!!!

[Steamboat1874 4,067]

23 minutes ago, msucolt45 said:

Dad and Tony Crosby, the bare footed “straight on” kicker from the ‘63 team. Both were tiny Hardin County boys. Dad from Sour Lake and Tony from Kountze.

Hook’em!!!

Tony Crosby’s wife was my third grade teacher.

[Bevo&Pevo 5,179]

 

[Bevo&Pevo 5,179]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Dbeasy 15,063]

On 10/11/2024 at 4:05 PM, Harrison Stafford said:

Oshman’s was headquartered in Houston. Back in the day, I lived near 38th and Speedway and could walk to Rooster’s.

If anyone visited Rooster Andrews on Guadalupe or the one on Anderson anytime during the late 70’s to mid 80’s, you were waited on by one of a group of us degenerates who would just make up answers to any question you asked, while mocking you behind your back. We also tried to rush you out of the store so that we could continue our games of catch from one end of the store to the other. We were all a bunch of f*ck ups. 

[texastroubadour 1,213]

On 10/11/2024 at 9:04 PM, Harrison Stafford said:

“Kick another field goal, Freddie.”

yep Field Goal Fred

my Dad called him DeadHead Fred

[Steamboat1874 4,067]

15 hours ago, Dbeasy said:

If anyone visited Rooster Andrews on Guadalupe or the one on Anderson anytime during the late 70’s to mid 80’s, you were waited on by one of a group of us degenerates who would just make up answers to any question you asked, while mocking you behind your back. We also tried to rush you out of the store so that we could continue our games of catch from one end of the store to the other. We were all a bunch of f*ck ups. 

There was a dark curly haired girl that worked there and she was hot.

I think it might have been Rooster’s daughter.

I was in love with her but she didn’t know it.

[The Original CaliHorn 68]

1 hour ago, Steamboat1874 said:

There was a dark curly haired girl that worked there and she was hot.

I think it might have been Rooster’s daughter.

I was in love with her but she didn’t know it.

Worked at the Anderson location part time during my Junior and Senior years! (1984 & 1985) A lot of hot trim walked thru those doors!!!