by Nick Eatman
“You guys are like Batman and Robin today,” Brown said. “And I don’t really know who’s Batman and who’s Robin, but … whatever.”
Randle looked more like the Caped Crusader when he scored his third touchdown of the half, leaping over the pile just before halftime to give the Cowboys a 28–14 lead. When he got to the bench, however, the only criticism he got from Brown and other coaches was to be extra careful when stretching the ball over the goal line during those running-back leaps that Walter Payton made famous back in the 1980s.
But a questionable timeout the Cowboys called with forty-six seconds left, coupled with their touchdown on the next play, gave the Falcons enough time to drive for a field goal just before the half. The score not only trimmed the lead to 11, but also gave Atlanta some momentum in the second half that Dallas had no answer for. The Cowboys also had no way of stopping Falcons receiver Julio Jones, who torched them with twelve catches for 164 yards and two scores. While Jones’ big day was expected, Atlanta running back Devonta Freeman came out of nowhere to rush for a career-high 141 yards and three scores.
On the flip side, the Falcons had made all of the necessary adjustments against the Cowboys’ running game. Randle had rushed for eighty-five yards on his first three carries, seemingly a lock to earn his first 100-yard game of his career. But his final eleven carries of the game netted just two yards.
So the onus went back to Weeden, who was completing passes left and right (22 of 26), but mostly short dump-off passes to the receivers and backs, including shifty tailback Lance Dunbar, who caught ten passes for one hundred yards.
As the Cowboys watched Atlanta take the lead, they still couldn’t get themselves off the mat. After scoring twenty-eight points in the first half, they were shut out completely in the second as the Falcons gave them a stunning 39–28 defeat.
All week long, the players and coaches had preached the words “next man up” as a battle cry to overcome injuries to players such as Romo, Bryant, and even Jeremy Mincey, who was out with a concussion.
So when one of the first questions at Garrett’s postgame press conference touched on his team’s missing key starters, the head coach stopped the reporter in his tracks.
“There’s no excuses who was there and who wasn’t there,” he said. “We had guys out there, and we didn’t get the job done. They did a better job than we did, and they won the ballgame.”
In the locker room Weeden said the right things by taking the blame for the loss, which dropped him to 5–17 in his career.
But the higher-ups, both Garrett and Jerry Jones, praised him for his accuracy and moving the offense in the first half.
“I liked what I saw out there,” Jones said in his typical postgame media powwow, which occurs after every game either inside the locker room or just outside the doors. “The stage wasn’t too big for him. I thought he made some good decisions. I know there are some throws he’d like to have back, but I think we’ve got something we can work with here.”
About two minutes later in this media session, the always candid team owner pointed out that Cassel was brought in for a reason.
“I’m excited to see what he can do. He’ll get a shot,” said Jones, who was making it clear that Weeden wouldn’t lose his job, but there might be a quick hook if things didn’t turn around quickly.
Chapter 6
THREADING THE NEEDLE
Friday
For ninety years, the city of Plano had one football team. The Wildcats were the only game in town, and on seven occasions, they’d been the best team in the state.
In 1981, the Wildcats were handed their first intra-city opponent when Plano East Senior High opened. The two shared some memorable games, and it was easily the fiercest rivalry for each school.
But that changed in 1999 when a third high school opened. Plano West Senior High, located just 4.9 miles away from the original Plano Senior High, was a little too close for comfort for the Wildcats’ faithful. Plano East is one thing, sitting on the other side of town where players, coaches, and fans don’t regularly cross paths. Having campuses located less than five miles apart, though, is a different story. Even today, the two schools share an intense rivalry that goes a little deeper than just their annual forty-eight minutes on the football field.
For starters, many of the kids from these two high schools went to elementary school together. Several of them attend church together and some have formed relationships outside of school.
Over the summer, quarterback Matt Keys had gone on a few dates with a girl that was attending West. It wasn’t anything serious, but of the many reasons he wanted to win this game, performing well in front of her was admittedly on the list.
It was a little more intense for Brandon Stephens, whose girlfriend was a star basketball player at Plano West. The week of the game, he asked her where she might sit on Friday night. Torn between her allegiances to her West friends and her boyfriend, the decision was made to watch a half from each side of the stadium. “I was fine with that,” said Stephens, whose plan all week was to beat the rival Wolves and then ask his girlfriend to Plano’s homecoming dance, which was coming up in two weeks.
First thing’s first, Plano had to take care of business. This was personal, especially for the players, who had referred to the days leading up to the Plano West game as “WukFest.” While it sounded like a wonky name for some festival, it was actually a derogatory play-on-words with switched letters that showed just how many of the Plano players felt toward their nearby rivals.
A couple of years earlier, a Plano senior referenced “WukFest” in a pep rally before the game and was disciplined immediately. This year, both Keys and Stephens were told by the emcee of the pep rally that any mentioning of that phrase would result in a trip to ISS, Plano’s in-school suspension.
But the rivalry between the schools goes deeper than just spirited teenagers. Plano West head coach, Scott Smith, not only graduated from Plano Senior High and was on the Wildcats’ coaching staff during the early 2000s, but was a finalist for the head-coaching job that eventually went to Jaydon McCullough in 2008. Smith was hired for the West job in March 2015, and formed a coaching staff that had several Plano ties.
“I have so much respect for Scott Smith,” Wildcats defensive backs coach, Chris Fisher, said. “When I got to Plano, he was a guy that took me under his wing and taught me the Plano defense. So when we play those guys, it’s just always an intense game, physically and emotionally. We see these coaches all the time. We see them at track meets and coaching clinics. You see them around town. And you just want to win so bad.”
Big games might change the intensity level for Plano. The preparation might be even more amped up. What doesn’t change, and never changes for the Wildcats, is the look—at least not during the regular season.
In today’s world of fancy uniforms with bright colors and shiny helmets and snappy designs becoming the norm at seemingly all levels of football, Plano chooses tradition and basics over glamour.
When they are the home team, the Wildcats sport their solid maroon jerseys that simply feature a tiny font with the word “Plano” above the numbers on the front. Maroon pants and the traditional white helmets make up this classic uniform that has been altered very little since the 1950s.
The only change you’ll ever see with the Wildcats’ uniform occurs in the playoffs. If the team is successful enough to reach the postseason, the players will get their last names stitched on the back—something that many high school teams do for all games. But at Plano, it’s a tradition that current athletic director and former Plano head coach, Gerald Brence, began back in 1994.
In fact, when he asked his staff to vote on whether it was a good idea, every assistant coach was in favor of it, except one.
“I didn’t see the need to put names on the back,” said McCullough, who was then in his first year as a P
lano assistant. “I mean, we didn’t have names when I was playing. But, I didn’t win that vote, and the kids like it. It gives them something else to be excited about if they get to the playoffs.”
McCullough loves to tell the story of their 1994 team picture, when Brence finally got up the nerve to tell Plano coaching legends John Clark and Tom Kimbrough his idea to add the names on the jerseys for the playoffs.
After what seemed like a four-minute pause, Clark finally responded to Brence.
“You better win.”
Luckily for Brence and the newest tradition, Plano did win, claiming its seventh state championship that season.
Those types of statements were what likely changed McCullough’s mind back in 2008 when he decided to change the jersey as well, adding a stripe down the panel.
He informed Brence, who had moved up to athletic director that year, of his proposed change and at first wasn’t told no. In fact, Brence never did put his foot down and reject the idea.
“But he came in my office several times and said, ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ ” McCullough recalled. “Finally, I realized that I didn’t want to change it. I called up Nike and said, ‘Okay, solid maroon again.’ You just don’t change the tradition. It’s a big deal to the fans who played here. It’s important for them to look down and say, ‘Hey, I played in that same uniform.’ ”
In his own family, McCullough routinely has conversations with his brother, Joey, the head coach of crosstown rival, Plano East, which has just thirty-four years of history and has never won a state championship.
“He gets these gold chrome helmets,” McCullough said. “The players love them and they look great. And I even got a call from the booster club the next day wanting shiny helmets, too. I had to tell them we can’t do it. We just can’t. And they understood.”
As for the players, most of them don’t fully appreciate the tradition until they get further along in the program. The younger kids watch ESPN like everyone else and see college teams such as Oregon and Baylor changing up uniforms every week with a variety of combinations. They even play against high school teams with alternate uniforms.
“The upperclassmen start to buy in and love the tradition,” McCullough said. “They start to understand the history behind a lot of things we do, so it’s really not a big deal to them. I think they embrace it.”
On this night, the kids were permitted to make a slight alteration to their uniforms with the addition of pink accessories to honor Breast Cancer Awareness Month, as the game was played two days into October. The coaches allow just one game in October for the players to add pink in the form of towels, wristbands, ankle tape, or even shoes.
A few years back, McCullough thought the players were “overdoing it” with the pink attire, thinking they were more interested in a unique fashion statement than the actual reasons behind the color.
“We had a team meeting and talked about how this is a great cause and we need to take it serious, instead of mocking it with a selfish ‘look at me’ attitude,” he said. “So I asked them to raise their hands if they had been affected by cancer in their family or friends at any point. And, of course, just about all of them raised their hands. So we just got together and decided we would pick a game and wear the same stuff and really honor the cause and not mock it.”
By the time kickoff finally arrived, uniform colors, district lines, and even girlfriends’ seating locations all took a backseat to the actual game. And Plano West showed right off the bat that they weren’t going to wait around for something good to happen. The Wolves called for an onside kick to start things off, but the Wildcats were able to recover, setting up near midfield for their first possession.
But Plano couldn’t even get a first down, the first sign of what kind of game this would be. Both defenses were on point all night, slugging it out with hard hits and forced turnovers.
The Wolves posted the first touchdown on a 39-yard pass in the first quarter, but Plano finally responded with a game-tying score before halftime when Stephens took a direct snap in the Wildcat formation on third-and-3 and found a gaping hole in the middle of the defense for a 41-yard touchdown.
The score remained tied, 7–7, all the way into the fourth quarter, when Plano West mounted a drive that ended with a forceful touchdown run, which gave the Wolves the lead with less than six minutes to play.
Pinned back at their own 23-yard line, the Wildcats would have to drive the length of the field just to even the score. Walking toward the huddle before their first play of the series, Keys told Stephens, “It’s you and me right here. Right here, we’re going to work together and go tie this game.”
Sure enough, Keys and Stephens ran the ball—literally—right through West’s defense. A 14-yard run by Keys was followed by an 11-yard run and then a 26-yarder by Stephens to get Plano in position. On a crucial fourth-and-3 with less than two minutes to play, Stephens then busted through the line and nearly scored before getting tackled at the 5-yard line, directly in front of Plano’s pink-wearing student section, which had been yelling back and forth with the West students in what has become the custom.
Close finishes between the two schools have become the custom as well, with West scoring in the final seconds to beat Plano, 37–35, in 2012. The Wildcats did defeat the Wolves by 17 in 2013, but had to narrowly upset West, 17–14, in 2014. This game was shaping up to be another great finish with perhaps even overtime—if the Wildcats could get five more yards.
Unfortunately, instead of moving forward, the Wildcats went backward, thanks to a 2-yard loss on first down, a false start penalty, and then a rush for no gain, which set up a third-and-goal from the 12-yard line with just 30 seconds remaining. Deciding not to pass, Plano stuck to the run, but Keys was stopped after only one yard. A do-or-die fourth down from the 11-yard line loomed.
Plano called a timeout to set up the biggest play of the game, and perhaps the season. In the huddle with offensive coordinator, Joey Stone, Keys was a little surprised with how it unfolded.
“We basically just made up a play for Brandon right there,” Keys said. “They asked Brandon what he wanted, and he called for a pass in the seam. So we set up a play for the receivers to just run outs to free up the middle. We hadn’t even run the play before, so I didn’t really know where he was going to be. I just had to throw it out there.”
Stephens lined up in the backfield and then darted toward the goal line, where he was bumped by a defender, causing him to stop for a moment before he lunged for the pass in the back of the end zone. The ball barely hit his fingers, ricocheting to the turf for an incomplete pass.
The star running back, lying flat on his stomach, popped his head up hoping to see a pass interference flag, but to no avail. He then buried his head back in the ground, trying to drown out the rowdy West fans and players who were already celebrating.
As he collected himself around the 10-yard line, Keys actually spotted the girl he had dated, along with other friends and acquaintances he knew from West.
“It sucks to stand there and see these people you know, and they’re so happy to see you lose,” he said. “But, that’s how it goes.”
And it wasn’t just the students and players. The wives of the Plano West coaching staff didn’t even wait for the postgame handshake to finish before rushing to their husbands for an emotional hug.
Meanwhile, the devastated Wildcats made the long walk up the ramp at John Clark Field toward the locker room, most with teary eyes and broken hearts. Like he did after every game, Keys met with reporters, refusing to hide his raw emotions.
“This is the worst night of my life,” he said. “I put this game on me. I didn’t get the job done, and I have to live with that. We were so close to scoring and we came up short. It doesn’t get any worse than this.”
On the bus ride back to the school, all Stephens could think about w
as the final play.
“I just kept replaying it over and over,” he said. “I’ve actually thought about it several times since then. But that night, I kept thinking, what if I would’ve run faster or got off the line of scrimmage cleaner. It was just an awful feeling.”
Keys, however, had more than just an emotional heartache. His right throwing hand was throbbing in pain, swelling up to the point that he was unsure just how serious it was.
In a world of hurt, Keys later sat on his couch at home reliving the game and trying to forget it at the same time, while also thinking about the severity of his injury.
“I just sat there looking at my hand,” Keys said. “Right then and there, I thought, ‘I hope it’s broken. I hope I’m done.’ I just sat there and cried and wanted it all to be over.”
Saturday
When it comes to recruiting, Art Briles isn’t picky about where to land the best players. He obviously has a soft spot for the small-town kids, considering he was once one himself growing up in Rule, Texas, which has a population now of just more than six hundred residents. But he also knows some of the best are right in the middle of the biggest cities, which is why he spends many hours in San Antonio, Houston, and, of course, the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex.
There are a couple of reasons why Briles loves playing Texas Tech every year in the Texas Farm Bureau Insurance Shootout at AT&T Stadium. For starters, he knows the neutral-site game against the Red Raiders benefits his school, with Waco being much closer to Arlington, Texas, than Lubbock. Secondly, getting to tell recruits that they will play at least one game in the luxurious stadium, which is not only the home of the Dallas Cowboys, but has also hosted a Super Bowl, a Final Four, and an NBA All-Star Game, is quite a recruiting tool. That selling point works as well on a kid from way down in Beaumont, Texas, as it does for the ones living right in the middle of Dallas who have probably already been to the stadium a dozen times.