The Vibe at Texas and Oklahoma
Here's why I HATE...
Maybe it's Jason White's goofy smile as he earns his ninth year of eligibility and passes for 400 yards against Texas. Or it could be the twinkle in Bob Stoops's eye as he dons the Golden Hat and tap-dances on Mack Brown's career.
Call it Stockholm Syndrome, but Texas has become accustomed to the face of defeat. Four straight Crimson and Creamings have hopefully forced us burnt-orange faithful to acknowledge that, entering Saturday's game, we're playing the role of Milhouse to Oklahoma's Nelson Muntz.
But the Sooners have also enriched the quality of life in Texas, not by giving us atomic wedgies every October but by bringing a rash of quality people to our state. Without Oklahoma there would be no Troy Aikman to make the Dallas Cowboys great again. Without the Sooner State there'd be no Chuck Norris to deliver Texas justice with a roundhouse kick, and no mmm-bopping Hansons to keep the suicide rate up.
What else can we say to a team that's handed us humble pie with a side of blowout for the last four years but thank you, Oklahoma. You have made the rivalry a joke, stabilizing the nation's economy with your strip-mining. The Sooners have drilled into our biggest resource -- not petroleum or peanuts but Texas players. Half of Oklahoma's team hails from the Lone Star State, so it's no wonder the game goes down in Dallas. The beatings wouldn't be half so demeaning if Oklahoma weren't turning our own weapons against us. It's bad enough to see Texas natives sacking ex-high school teammates, but do they have to yell, "Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!"?
As much talent as you have sucked from our state, Oklahoma, you did bring us Darrell Royal, a coach who didn't need a swanky visor to win three titles. So you can keep Adrian Peterson and all the rest of the traitors in your Texas two-stepping lineup. Because you can't spell sellout without OU. -- Eric Ransom
Ransom, a journalism and English major, is a sportswriter for The Daily Texan.
Few rivalries in sports reach the level of hatred that is attained by Oklahoma-Texas. It's a battle that has been waged for more than 100 years and still manages to get the blood of both fan bases boiling each time the teams walk down the Cotton Bowl ramp to take the field in the annual Red River Shootout.
The Sooners' hatred for the Longhorns is spawned by the overblown arrogance that emanates from Austin, which may be even more pungent than the corn dogs and turkey legs from the State Fair of Texas that provides the backdrop for the game each year.
The chief difference between Oklahoma and Texas is that when it comes to bragging, the Sooners can just let the facts speak for themselves -- seven national titles, the most recent in 2000, to Texas's three. The Longhorns, on the other hand, seem to do nothing but talk and don't do much to back it up. Texas last won a national championship when Michael Jackson, his original nose and the Jackson 5 were tearing up the charts in 1970 with I'll Be There.
Every off-season the Sooners endure the talk that "this is Texas's year" with the hoopla surrounding the school's latest and greatest recruiting triumph. But when the season starts and it's time to let the play on the field speak for itself, the Longhorns seem to repeat the same chapter and verse. They have lost four straight games to Oklahoma, by a combined score of 177-54. Not much of a contest.
Expressing hatred for Texas has become a year-round tradition for Oklahoma fans. Many adorn their cars with upside-down Longhorns alongside their Sooners magnets, stickers and flags. We use slogans like TUCK FEXAS or WE MESS WITH TEXAS when referring to our buddies from the south. But possibly the most eloquent summation of the Sooners' collective sentiment toward Texas comes from legendary OU linebacker Brian Bosworth, who simply says: "Burnt orange makes me puke." --Aaron Francl
Francl, a journalism major, is assistant sports editor of The Oklahoma Daily.
Issue date: October 11, 2004