All along Guadalupe Street in Austin, the drag where the street kids spread their wares—pipes, jars, paintings, posters—there were the predictable signs. ARKANSAS WILL COMMIT SOOOEEECIDE, said one. PIGGIES FEET STINK, said another, BEAT UCLA, said the most far-sighted of the lot, this one going beyond Arkansas and Notre Dame in the Cotton Bowl to next season's opener.
The day before the game there was one part of the campus which seemed oblivious to the event. Under some trees over near the student union a rock festival went on all afternoon while a couple of thousand students danced and relaxed. At Les Amis, a sidewalk café next door to the Texas Observer office, kids looked bewildered at orange-painted cars honking past, loaded with straight kids yelling "Hook 'em" and all that. One man with a beard and another without a shirt planned to watch the Big Shoot-out from the rooftop of the Dry Creek Cafe, about five miles away in the hills, with several pitchers of beer and some cookies.
The Arkansas team got in Friday about noon and was greeted at the airport by a few hundred fans and a man in a red shirt who stood on the runway and led yells. He was Catfish Montgomery, father of the Arkansas quarterback. "We ready," said Catfish.
The team went on to Georgetown, 30 miles away, for Frank Broyles learned a long time ago to keep his boys out of Austin on the night before a game. Back in 1962, at one of the earlier big ones, the Razorbacks had stayed at a downtown hotel. At 7 a.m. Saturday a golf cart pulled up in front of the hotel, loudspeaker blaring a recording of the Arkansas fight song. It could be heard for blocks. Two sportswriters—well known to Broyles—who had not quite made it to bed yet, wandered over to look at the contraption and sat down in it. Just then Broyles came out of the hotel in his pajamas and a rage. Arkansas has stayed a long way out of town on Friday ever since.
Before last year's game the Texas coach, staff and team were amazed that a send-off pep rally in Austin's Memorial Stadium had drawn 25,000. This time they were even more impressed. Some 37,000 turned out on Friday evening to whoop and holler and hear Royal and team members and, inevitably, a few politicians. The high point of the rally came when Texas' All-America tackle, Bobby Wuensch, got up to speak in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. There were light giggles. Wuensch bristled at the microphone and said, "You can laugh but we're gonna whup 'em good."
Bobby Wuensch was certainly right about that. And when it was all over, when the university tower was gleaming orange in the night, as it does on such happy occasions, even a fair share of Austin's hippies were dancing in the streets. That might have been Royal's biggest accomplishment of the week.
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