The One-day Season

Nebraska got to watch the Cotton Bowl on television and see the demise of the Longhorns. They marked it at 5:01, Miami time. Later, they were in their dressing room, getting ready to come out for the kickoff with LSU, when they heard the Rose Bowl final. They marked it at 8:07, Miami time. Bob Devaney told the squad, "There it is." And Quarterback Jerry Tagge, who despite a 63% completion average for the season, is neither Plunkett nor Theismann and often shares his job with another player, Van Brownson, nevertheless said, "Let's go get it."

The Cornhuskers literally howled onto the field, and in a very short time Tagge had howled them in for a 10-point lead. It looked then as if it might be a laugher. LSU's Buddy Lee explained later that this was because, "We weren't very interested in the first half."

LSU got interested in the second half, and with some surprising success at passing and whatever kind of draw play Nebraska's Dave Morock decided it was, the Tigers clawed out a 12-10 lead through the third quarter. By now at least a few Nebraska fans had to be thinking about five years before.

But not Tagge or his alternating tailback threats of Joe Orduna and Jeff Kinney. Which brings up the fact that Nebraska seems to have a lot of positions with four legs and four arms and two heads. Quarterback and tailback, for example. Tagge didn't shuttle with Brownson on the big drive, however; Devaney let Jerry handle it. "I don't really like to switch until one of 'em has the game won or gets stopped," Devaney explained.

Tagge would win the game. He took Nebraska 67 yards for the touchdown—maybe the most glorious 67 yards Nebraska ever would drive. He sent Orduna inside, and he went outside himself. He passed to Dan Schneiss and Johnny Rodgers. He ran again. And again. And he passed to Kinney—a big one, 17 yards, to the LSU five. Kinney ran for three. And Tagge for one. Finally they were one yard away.

Jerry Tagge sneaked for the score, leaning forward after being met, stretching out the ball with his hands. As he held the ball up there in that heap, Nebraska considered itself No. 1, and on the basis of the won-lost evidence among the major contenders, it is hard to disagree.

People will. Oh, will they. Texas... Ohio State...Notre Dame...even Stanford will say that on those given days football minds refer to—and on quite a number of them—they were the best team in the country. But on the given day which mattered the most, Nebraska, the forgotten team, taking advantage of some quaint circumstances, can say it last. And loudest.