Home on the Range

If there is anything that tugs at a Texan's superiority complex, it is the fact that no Texas college has ranked No. i in the football polls for more than 20 years. No state takes the game more grimly. Rawboned youngsters begin locking noseguards in the second grade. Texas supports four bowl games (Cotton, Bluebonnet, Sun, Prairie View), three professional franchises, 30 college teams--and many of the nation's football bookmakers. The eight teams in the Southwest Conference* have produced some 65 All-Americas, are the breeding grounds for such superb professionals as Yale Lary, Kyle Rote, John David Crow and Bobby Layne. Still, a national championship is only a distant memory in Texas. Perhaps the biggest reason is the fratricidal nature of the bruising Southwest Conference, in which each team must play all the others each season--a harrowing schedule from which it is nearly impossible to escape unscathed.

In the Southwest Conference, every game is a grudge match. Private Rice carries a finely honed ax for public Texas. Fort Worth's Texas Christian nurses a traditional, geographic hatred of Dallas' Southern Methodist, and the two state schools--Texas and Texas A. & M. --have been slugging it out since 1894. But some of the wildest moments in conference history have been produced by the rivalry between Baptist Baylor and Methodist S.M.U. Arkansas Coach Frank Broyles was an assistant at Baylor in 1947, assigned to the spotting phone in the press box during the S.M.U. game. A few minutes before half time, Broyles left his seat to join the team in the dressing room. As he emerged from the press-box elevator, a great roar went up from the crowd. "What happened?" Broyles yelled to the nearest spectator. "Oh," came the angry answer. "Those s.o.b.s just scored." "Yes, yes," said the excited Broyles. "But which s.o.b.s?"

Big News. Season after season, the Southwest Conference is one of the roughest, toughest leagues in the U.S. This season it is tougher than ever. Lines are brawny and deep, defenses are stanch and sound. But in the offense-minded Southwest Conference, the big news is a corps of fleet-footed backs who can run over and around the most dogged linebacker, butt heads with the best in the country. Among them: > Baylor's bull-necked Ronnie Bull (6 ft., 198 Ibs.), a halfback last season, who was switched to fullback this year to take advantage of his straight-ahead speed. Bull runs the 100-yd. dash in 9.8 sec., has exceptional balance. Says Texas Linebacker Pat Culpepper: "You don't get Bull the first time--because he just bounces off. You have to get him on the second bounce."

>Texas' scrawny (5 ft. 11 in., 160 Ibs.) Jimmy Saxton, a crazy-legged halfback who takes off in all directions, prompted one opposing defense man to counsel: "If you miss Saxton, just wait a minute. He's liable to be back." > Arkansas' light-footed Lance Alworth (6 ft., 175 Ibs.) is the key man in the Razorback's fast-breaking backfield. Says Arkansas Coach Broyles: "He's what we call an even and leavin' man. When he's even with you, he's leavin'." >Texas Christian's Guy ("Sonny") Gibbs, at 6 ft. 7 in. and 230 Ibs. the biggest quarterback in college football, runs like a fullback and has such long arms that teammates claim he doesn't need to pass--"he just hands the ball across the line."

Hard Way. For most of each season the teams of the Southwest Conference are content to knock each other off in their own stadiums. Now and then, though, the Texas schools step out of state--and their highfalutin' intersectional opponents often wish the Texans had stayed home on the range. Already this season, such familiar foundries as Ohio State (tied by Texas Christian, 7-7), Pittsburgh (beaten by Baylor, 16-13) and Kansas (beaten by T.C.U., 17-16) have learned the hard way that Texans take their football seriously.

*The eight: Baylor, Texas Christian, Rice, Southern Methodist, Texas, Texas A. & M., Texas Tech, Arkansas.

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