Woodson developed a reputation as an offensive wizard and/or glutton because of such games as New Mexico State's 90-0 annihilation of Northern Arizona at Flagstaff.
"You get interested in a game and don't notice the score," he said.
Woodson was content at New Mexico State. The Las Cruces Laundry was contributing $1,500 a year to his program, he was whipping New Mexico regularly and the entrance requirements were not high. But in February 1968, when he reached 65, the school president forced him to retire, despite his complaints that "I'm too young to quit coaching."
Trinity hired him as athletic director and two years ago he also took over the football team. Assistant Gene Of-field had the title of head coach, but it was merely a ploy so that Woodson could pay him more money. Trinity's 13 wins in those two seasons did not go on Woodson's record, but he was doing what he loved to do and doing it as well as ever. Last season Trinity had an 8-2 record and tied for the Southland Conference championship.
But midway through the successful season the board of trustees voted unanimously to de-emphasize. Several San Antonio businessmen volunteered to dig up money for grants if the new plan was voided, but University President Dr. Duncan Wimpress refused. Then came one of the strangest manifestations of de-emphasis ever seen: the school put the bite on local millionaire E. M. Stevens for a new $100,000 football stadium which, of course, has his name painted in big letters on the scoreboard and both sides of the press box. E. M. Stevens Stadium seats 6,272 and it is unlikely to be strained very often. Fewer than a thousand fans turned out for Saturday night's game, while a few miles away 8,000 braved a drizzle to watch a high school contest.
"It is up to me to carry it on as well as I can," says Woodson. "This is all new to me. I'm interested in learning how it will turn out." In the meantime he is doing what he loves most, doodling with plays on pieces of paper and losing himself in the rectangular world bound by chalked lines.
A Trinity fan walked into Woodson's office one day before last week's game and found him talking with his quarterback, Charlie Bump.
"Hi, Charlie," said the fan. "How's it going?"
"Fine," said Bump.
"What do you mean, fine?" growled Woodson. "We lost a football game Saturday night."