Nebraska Was On The Loose

Lucky to be tied-7-7 at the half after a field-goal attempt from the four by Nebraska's Billy Todd hit an upright—there were six seconds left in the second, quarter—Switzer tried to pep up his sagging charges. "They assault us and they gain," he said. "We assault them and we gain. I'm not concerned." He looked concerned.

With good reason. Switzer's team hustled out on the field only to resume its demonstration of advanced fumbling. This time it was Overstreet's turn; he dropped the ball at midfield and Sorley again marched the Huskers to a score, with Hipp running three straight times at the end of the drive and getting the touchdown. The extra point was good and Nebraska led 14-7. It was the first 'time in nine games this year that the Sooners had been behind.

There was a suspicion, however, that Oklahoma might just be a little slow getting going again in the 35° cold. And that seemed to be the case when Pillen pounced on still another Lott fumble at the Nebraska 35. But Nebraska was offsides, and the Sooners got the ball back. On the next play, Sims followed King and Overstreet through a hole inside right tackle—the same play he had scored on in the first quarter—and was off on a 30-yard touchdown gallop. Again the score was tied.

At the end of the third quarter and start of the fourth, Nebraska used 12 plays trying to score a touchdown—once getting as far as a first down on the Sooner 13—but had to settle for a 24-yard Todd field goal. That made it 17-14 and that was the difference.

The ensuing kickoff runback was a nightmare for the officials and the riled-up Husker fans. It was the dreadful kind of play that, had Nebraska lost, everyone would have looked at films of and cursed for years. They would have been justified. The kick went to Oklahoma's Kelly Phelps, who was tackled hard by Nebraska's John Ruud. Phelps fumbled and Nebraska recovered on the Oklahoma 11. Except it was wrongly ruled no fumble, Oklahoma's ball. After protesting to no avail, Osborne immediately gathered his dismayed players and told them, "They aren't going to take this game away from us. Now go out there and get that ball and we'll cram it down their throats." Thereupon ensued the two Sims fumbles which, to the biased rooters in the stands, only evened up matters.

Afterwards, Osborne was his usual perfunctory, low-key self. He answered a few questions at a mass press conference, then slipped away, in almost unseemly haste, to his private dressing room. When a visitor apologized for keeping him from the mobs of well-wishers outside, he said, "Naw, I just enjoy the players and the game of football. I'm not overly fond of the public relations and hoopla." And he reflected on what the win meant to him. "I know of the grumbling that I can't win the big one and I can't beat Oklahoma," he said. "But football players win games. Regardless, I knew I'd better beat them pretty soon. And I also know that a bad year around here is 7-4, and if that happened, there would be a lot of sentiment to get rid of me. But I'm not petrified about losing my job and I'm not unemployable."

The scholarly Osborne (he has a doctorate in educational psychology) started at Nebraska as an unpaid graduate assistant to Bob Devaney in 1962. It was Devaney, now athletic director and legend, who made Nebraska football great. And Osborne, demonstrating education was not wasted on him, was reluctant to be the first to follow Devaney as coach. But in 1969, after Nebraska had struggled by Kansas State 10-7, the two men were on the team bus returning to Lincoln when Devaney blurted, "Would you be interested in taking over when I quit?" "I probably would," said Osborne. In 1973 he did, and he has survived. This week he's surviving better.

As the shouting continued outside, Osborne was musing. "I guess some people kind of think of me as a stick in the mud," he said. Then he was off to have a cup of coffee—right, a cup of coffee. His practice-session intruder would have been more confused than ever.