Texas Oklahoma Football Weekend

Texas Oklahoma Football Weekend

The rivalry between the University of Texas Longhorns and Oklahoma University Sooners created one of the fiercest traditions in Texas. Every year in October, during the Texas State Fair, the football teams of these two top-rated schools met to play on neutral ground at the Cotton Bowl in Dallas, halfway between the schools’ locations in Austin and Oklahoma City. The winner of this Red River Shoot Out, (the Red River being the dividing line between the two states,) often determined the Conference champion, and sometimes National Championship, in the heyday of the long-gone Southwest Conference. Regardless of how poorly either team played before this weekend, they both rose to the occasion to play over their heads. Though fierce intensity marked the football games, no other college rivalry compared to the bitter contention between the Longhorn and Sooner fans.
Let me explain. During the 1960s and 1970s, student and fan conflicts rose to never before seen levels. I lived in Dallas during that time with a father who was one of the most fanatic Longhorn fans ever. Dad bled Longhorn orange and wore orange underwear. He painted his horse trailer orange and white and Mom drove a special order, orange and white Camaro Super Sport muscle car. He named his dog Bevo after the Longhorn steer and hired their football players as salesmen for his pharmaceutical company. Each October, The Game generated weekend-long parties at our house where a dozen or so Longhorns from around Texas congregated. From a young age on, I remember Dad somehow always came up with tickets for his family to attend those memorable Saturday football games.
Back in those days, public drunkenness and fighting was the norm, indeed, mandatory in Dallas on Friday night where students from both schools gathered en masse. To control the crowds, police blocked off a square mile of downtown streets where students dressed in Oklahoma red or Texas orange roamed in packs to combat each other as they carried their six-packs of beer. With each school having 40,000 plus cowboy-based students, those streets became packed as tight as Mardi Gras, which stimulated incredible numbers of alcohol boosted rumbles. All night long.
During my high school years, Dad forbade me to be anywhere near downtown. He knew what was best for me on that weekend, especially since my buddies were wrestlers who liked to fight. To keep some semblance of order, police rounded up many drunk and fighting students to show them the luxurious inside of a Dallas jail. Most spent the night passed out in holding cells, with many missing the game while waiting for friends to bail them out. Dad, being a major Alumni supporter, felt obligated to help Longhorn students who had stood up to Okies. He and a lawyer friend would take a briefcase full of money downtown after midnight to bail out students. They spent much of their night rescuing students to enable them to attend the game, usually in a hungover state.
Student friction continued on Saturday after more beer consumption before, during, and after the game, especially with students from both schools sitting next to each other during hard-fought contests. During those years, Texas cheerleaders taunted Oklahoma fans with a chant, “OU Sucks. OU Sucks.” Oklahoma fans replied in equally poor taste. School administrators begged students for years to stop that chant before political correctness prevailed. Losing fans suffered severe humiliation, which led to more fights.
By Saturday night, revelry had taken its toll, with a smaller number of students returning to downtown streets. Instead, local bars became flooded with celebrating teams anxious for bar fights that led to being thrown out of drinking establishments. The degree of one’s drunkenness, number of fights, and jail time were badges of honor back on each campus the next week.
By the time I attended the University of Texas in the mid-70s, the worst of the wild partying had been brought under control on Friday nights before the big games. Downtown streets were no longer closed off; meaning sidewalks were still full of drinking students as cars crawled along crowded roads. This worked out better for me because more beer could be carried in a car roaming the streets. While police no longer tolerated street fighting, Mothers Against Drunk Drivers had not yet started their crusade. Police still turned a blind eye to drunk driving back then when DUI penalties were minimal. Drinking while driving was a cultural norm. As long as we drove in a straight line and didn’t crash, police left us alone.
My last Texas-OU downtown escapade occurred in 1977. At that time, I drove a full-size, gold work van converted to a pimp mobile. I customized it with gold, shag carpet on top of foam backing, a bed, stereo, and benches along the walls. No back seats meant room for plenty of people sitting on the floor. After loading my van with my two sisters, eight college buddies, and several ice chests of beer, I joined a parade of cars downtown. A sliding door opened wide enabled my friends to watch the crowds and harass Oklahoma students walking on sidewalks, as well as shouting Hook ’em Horns to orange shirts. I turned up The Eyes of Texas school song on my stereo, competing with Oklahoma fight songs in other cars. With me being the mostly designated driver, my passengers imbibed to their heart’s content. We survived without a major incident, then attended Saturday’s game. After a Saturday night on the town, we migrated back to Austin on a three-hour drive with many other students lined up on the highway. Marriage, work, moving, and life made that my last Texas-OU game. The rivalry and traditions have tamed significantly from those days, but memories of those best of old games bring a smile to my face every time.