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TEXAS HAS A HORN OF PLENTY
Dan Jenkins
September 20, 1965
THE LEGEND
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September 20, 1965

Texas Has A Horn Of Plenty

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THE LEGEND

It was a thoroughly undisciplined decade, one that gave the Southwest Conference its lasting reputation as the most free-wheeling, upset-crazed sector of the land. Men like Slingin' Sam Baugh, Dwight (Paddlefoot) Sloan and Slingshot Davey O'Brien often threw the ball as many as 30 or 40 times in a single game. And from the same curious formations—spread, short punt, double wing—runners like Jarrin' John Kimbrough, Bohn Hilliard, Wee Bobby Wilson and Jimmy Lawrence bounded goalward in their leather headgear and canvas pants with the help of shovel passes, wide laterals and flicker handoffs. The big heroes in the 1930s were those who threw and caught and ran, but there was one complete football player among them who was so proficient at the basic skills—blocking and tackling—that he, too, became a legend with the rest. At the University of Texas, the biggest and winningest school in the Southwest, and sure to be powerful again in 1965, the name of Harrison Stafford, a rough-hewn halfback of 1930-31-32, is spoken with a reverence exclusively reserved for true Saturday immortals like—well, like Tommy Nobis, Texas' modern legend. Put it this way: Stafford was so aggressive, he could have played today for Darrell Royal.

Even now, 33 years later, when passionate followers of the game talk about "the block," every Texan knows which one. It was the flying, side-body downfield block that Stafford threw on TCU's All-America Guard Johnny Vaught in 1932 in the big game of that season. TCU, with six of seven All-Conference linemen—led by Vaught—was meeting Texas—with three of four All-Conference backfield men—for the title. The game was advertised appropriately as the battle of the line against the backfield. Texas had, aside from Harrison Stafford, a bruising tailback named Ernie Koy, the father of last year's Longhorn star, and one of the Southwest's all-time scatbacks, Bohn Hilliard. Although Texas was favored (the Longhorns had lost only once to the Frogs in 12 years), TCU won 14-0. Stafford, however, proved a classic competitor in defeat. Catching Koy's passes, blocking and defending, he was everywhere. And then there was the block that oldtimers insist they can still hear.

It happened on a punt. TCU Quarterback Buster Brannon boomed a high one that Hilliard fielded. Vaught, as always, was the first man downfield, hopeful of crushing the Texas runner. Stafford's job was to take care of Vaught. He did. He came racing left to right across field, bearing down from the blind side on Vaught, who was running just as fast. All 32,000 spectators could see that a mighty collision would occur. Just as Vaught got within a few steps of Hilliard, Stafford hurled himself headlong into him, waist high, and the momentum of the crash carried both men three yards through the air—a flight ending in an awesome clump. Stafford got up like a punch-drunk fighter, but Vaught lay in a dazed heap.

"The legend grew that Vaught was knocked completely out," says Stafford, today a successful rancher, rice-grower and vice-president of a bank in Edna, Texas, "but the fact was that both of us were pretty shaken up." It was the closest Stafford ever came to injury. For three years of All-Conference performing, which in itself was unusual because he was almost strictly a blocker and defender, Stafford was never hurt, even though he was long and rangy and played at 175.

"I've never seen a defensive back or blocker who could compare with him," says Texas Track Coach Clyde Littlefield, who was then the football coach. "In the open field, against the fanciest runner, he never missed. And he blocked because he wanted to win. We used to try to let him run the ball, but the plays didn't gain much, because he wasn't there to clear the way for himself. We never even used anyone to double-team with him. It wasn't necessary. He loved to hit."

This combative spirit has been rightfully inherited by Tommy Nobis, the brilliant linebacker, the most nearly ideal player Texas has produced since Stafford. Nobis is 6 feet 2, 230 pounds, freckled, has a size-19 neck, and is suicidally dedicated to winning. Already he has been voted the best linebacker in the Southwest in 20 years by 25 of the leading sportswriters in Texas.

Nobis, as a sophomore, was more responsible than anyone else for burying Navy's Roger Staubach in the Cotton Bowl game, a performance that prompted Army Coach Paul Dietzel to call him "the best linebacker I've ever seen in college football." Nobis made more than 20 individual tackles each against Army, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Rice and SMU last year as an All-America junior and wound up the season by making four consecutive stops on his own goal line against Alabama, protecting the 21-17 Orange Bowl upset.

For two seasons Nobis has played both ways and has been one of the reasons Texas' running game has continued to flourish. Even now that platoons are a necessity, Royal will use the San Antonio senior 30% on offense. "All I know is, I don't want him sitting by me on the bench too much," Royal says. "He's the best I've ever had. He's always there, or on his way. In ability and attitude, I consider him the best all-round football player in the country."

Nobis' attitude can be summed up in one of his own statements. Talking about Texas' only loss last season, 14-13 to Arkansas—and the only loss of his career—Tommy says, "I think a little bit about Arkansas every day."

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