by Nick Eatman
The only negative for the Bears in the second half was an ankle injury to star defensive tackle Andrew Billings, who had to be taken to the locker room. After missing one series, he returned to the field in uniform, but with the help of crutches.
“I can go,” Billings said to the training staff. “Let me try it and see.”
Billings tried it, going back into the game at his regular nose tackle spot. One of the strongest players on the team—he was a state power lifter in high school—Billings had no leverage with his legs and was pancaked to the ground. Just like that, he was out of the game and didn’t return.
“That’s all right, ‘Bill,’ ” Art Briles said to him as he walked off. “Get off your feet. We’ll get you ready for next week.”
West Virginia kept scoring, but the Bears did as well. Late in the fourth quarter, with freshman quarterback Jarrett Stidham in the game, Baylor was down in the red zone once again, knocking on the door. From the 9-yard line, Stidham faked a run and pulled back to throw, finding a wide open … intern? Formerly yes, but currently Clemons-Valdez, sporting the 98 jersey he had worn for the last three years, was waiting in the end zone and hauled in the pass for his first collegiate touchdown. He barely even had the ball tucked under his left arm before he was fist pumping with his right.
“Boys, our defensive intern just scored him a touchdown!” receivers coach, Tate Wallis, yelled out, causing quite a laugh among the coaches. Chubber was greeted on the sideline by just about every player and coach; but with the ball still tucked under his arm, he made his way through his teammates with one destination in mind.
Clemons-Valdez went straight to the first row in the stands and handed the ball to his mother, who had a 35mm camera in one hand and now a game ball in the other.
“Here’s a guy who wasn’t going to play, and he just wanted to be around the team in any way he could,” said running backs coach, Jeff Lebby. “So he frees us up a scholarship, then walks back on because he knew we needed help. It’s the greatest example of a teammate that there is.”
One would think a touchdown with 1:21 left in a 31-point game would be the final fireworks, but Baylor had to kick off and, with mostly the second-team coverage unit on the field, allowed a 100-yard return for a score, giving the coaches for the kicking units something to chew on for another week. However, they nearly matched it on the next kickoff as redshirt freshman Chris Platt, one of the fastest players on the team, returned the kick ninety-two yards before getting tackled at the West Virginia 3 with fifty seconds remaining. Baylor ran one offensive play but was stopped short of the end zone, and an injury to a West Virginia player then led to an automatic timeout with thirty seconds left.
On the sidelines, with Kendal in his ear wanting to run another play and several thousand giddy fans behind him urging for the same, the head coach just smiled at his freshman quarterback, who looked rather eager to punch it in the end zone himself.
“I’ve dealt with peer pressure my whole life,” Briles said. “Are we going to give in to it now? Are we going to give in to peer pressure or do what’s right? Let’s do what’s right. Just let it run out.”
So the clock ran out as Briles ran to the middle of the field to shake hands with Dana Holgorsen, who was on staff with him nearly fifteen years earlier when the two were assistants at Texas Tech. Holgorsen not only gave Briles and his team high praise, but also called attention to a specific player.
“That number one (referring to Coleman’s jersey) is the best player in the country,” he said.
“Well, coach, don’t tell anyone else that,” Briles said with a chuckle. “I’m trying to get him to stay for another year.”
“Ha, good luck with that,” said Holgorsen, who likely would have loved nothing more than to see Coleman enter the NFL Draft early and not have to face him again.
In the locker room, the postgame celebration was a little rowdier than normal. One might think becoming bowl-eligible with a sixth win wasn’t worthy of a raucous celebration for the number-five team in the country, but Briles always made a point to announce it to his team.
“Guys, it’s hard to win in this league. It’s hard to win,” he told the players. “We don’t know what bowl we’re going to, but we know we’re going somewhere.”
Obviously, the national championship was still the ultimate goal, and the best way to get there was to be undefeated, something Baylor couldn’t claim after the last time they faced West Virginia.
Sunday
The most loyal of football fans not only know their beloved team inside and out, but also share a true understanding of the mindset of the players and coaches.
On the flip side, a team knows that much of its success relies on having these crazed fans, feeling their passion, and sometimes living off that enthusiasm when its back is against the wall.
For the most part, teams and fans are on the same page. But if there is one thing that many of them disagree on, it’s the timing of the bye week.
Players not only love it, but they need it. Their bodies have been getting banged around since late July and a weekend away from the grind can be rehabilitating for both the body and mind. For the coaches, the mental grind never goes away, but at least for a few days, they have a chance to breathe, and in the Cowboys’ case, possibly regroup with a chance to right the ship that seemed to be sinking fast.
For the fans, good luck finding one that truly loves the off week. What makes them so passionate is that they rarely can get enough. When their team wins a big game, the avid fan can barely wait another seven days to keep up the momentum. And after a loss, or maybe a few losses in a row, that wretched taste that sits in their mouths for a full week just lingers until game day arrives again. That’s when seven days between games can feel like a month.
So imagine how the Dallas fans must have felt after losing to the Patriots at home for a third consecutive loss, knowing there would be two full weeks before getting the chance to return to the win column.
A season that began with so much promise, a 2–0 start with wins over division rivals New York and Philadelphia, had now turned into a 2–3 record with both Tony Romo and Dez Bryant out for significant time. Sure, there was time to turn things around, but it was clear to the coaching staff that changes needed to be made.
Usually, Jason Garrett isn’t one for revealing anything about the current game plan, especially when it comes to personnel. He’s always rather reserved with the media when asked about injuries and when it comes to lineup changes. Garrett’s philosophy is to hold as much information back as possible, abiding by the “knowledge is power” mantra and keeping his opponents in the dark when it comes to what to expect from his team.
But with the Cowboys limping toward the bye week, Garrett uncharacteristically announced a change in the plans—some ten days before the game—announcing that Matt Cassel would replace Brandon Weeden in the starting lineup.
The only surprise was the timing of the announcement, but Garrett sensed that his team needed a spark during the week off; so he figured this could be a resounding message the players would respond to in a positive way. Well, at least most of the players.
For Weeden, it was one of the worst birthdays he could ever recall. He walked into the Valley Ranch complex Wednesday morning, and the now thirty-two-year-old was summoned to Garrett’s office, where he was informed of the move. All last season, Weeden had backed up Romo as the number-two quarterback and now after three games—and three losses—he was sent back to that role.
To no one’s surprise, he wasn’t happy about it.
Weeden held nothing back when approached by reporters at his locker at Valley Ranch, which was only about thirty feet away from where Cassel was still meeting with reporters about his promotion.
“Obviously, I’m pissed,” said a stone-faced Weeden, who had quickly become a favorite among the media members
for not only his willingness to conduct interviews when requested, but his generally candid responses. “It’s the nature of the business. I have to be ready again. I’m back in that position—one play away again. But they know I’m pissed. But I’m a pro. What else can I say?”
Even Weeden understood that a 0–3 record as the starting quarterback wasn’t acceptable. But what chapped him the most was a game plan that limited his ability to throw the ball down the field. What got him to the NFL was a strong arm that earned him a second-round selection in the Major League Baseball draft as a pitcher back in 2002 with the Yankees. He spent four years in the minors before opting to play football at Oklahoma State, where he threw a few passes to Dez Bryant early in their college careers.
Weeden could definitely throw the ball, but felt like the offensive plan centered more on his managing the game than trying to win it. And after three losses, instead of switching up the plan, they just switched quarterbacks.
The Cowboys went from a player who was 0–4 as a starter in Dallas and 5–19 as a career starter to Cassel, who was at least closer to .500 with a 34–38 record, including a victory earlier this season with the Bills.
Cassel stood in front of about twenty-five reporters and answered every question with class and humility but also a sense of confidence.
If there is a physical prototype of what NFL quarterbacks look like, Cassel fits it. At 6–5, 230 pounds, he sports a light-bronze tan that seems rather constant from his days of growing up in California and attending Southern Cal. With dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a square jaw, Cassel is the poster boy for the All-American look. Obviously, the Cowboys and their fans were concerned a little more with how that right arm of his could help dig this team out of a hole.
Oddly enough, the California-born, traveled veteran of the NFL said playing for the Cowboys was a “dream come true,” having growing up following the Cowboys along with his father, who grew up in Lubbock, Texas—about six hours west of Dallas.
“We always supported the blue star,” Cassel said. “So growing up a Cowboys fan, I think it’s huge that I’m in position to be the starter. We’re all kind of pinching ourselves right now.”
While Cassel stood in front of the media, beaming with excitement and confidence, he knew he was being called upon to deliver in the figurative sense. Literally, his wife, Lauren, was getting close to delivering as well, some thirty-eight weeks pregnant with the family’s fourth child.
Cassel actually conducted the entire interview with his cell phone in his right hand, making sure he had his phone with him at all times.
“She might have called right now,” Cassel joked with reporters. “I keep my phone nearby in case she calls. I’m staying ready.”
While the rest of Cassel’s teammates were taking their NFL-mandated four days away from the complex during the bye week, the Cowboys’ new quarterback spent his weekend in a Dallas hospital. As it turned out, the timing of Lauren and Matt’s baby boy couldn’t have been better. Born on Saturday of the bye weekend, Clayton Cassel now gave the family two sons and two daughters.
Fearful that the birth would cause him to miss precious practice time or perhaps even threaten his availability for the next week’s game, Cassel had cleared that hurdle.
Now, it was time to get his new team back in the race.
Chapter 9
MORE PAIN THAN RAIN
Friday
In Plano, Texas, as well as just about every town throughout the Lone Star State, and even in most places across the nation, lasting memories are made on Friday nights in the fall.
But there’s always one Saturday morning for nearly all high school students, whether they wear a uniform or not, that can have a lasting impact on their future.
It’s not the same Saturday for everyone, and in some cases it can be taken on a different day, but rest assured, there are classrooms full on Saturdays across the state with nervous seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds holding nothing but a sharpened number-two pencil.
On this Saturday morning in mid-October, Brandon Stephens was among several students from all over the area who were ready to take the SAT. The standardized test, along with the ACT, is a widely used examination that colleges use to determine admissions for prospective students, along with their grades in the classroom.
When compared to football, daily tests and quizzes are like practices. Report cards are equal to a Friday night game. But the SAT is the state championship game of tests.
With the enormous implications of this exam, Stephens was doing his best to focus. As the star running back of a Plano team that was just eliminated from playoff contention the night before, he was crushed inside. As a senior and one of the team leaders, Stephens dreamed of finishing his stellar prep career in the playoffs, possibly even at AT&T Stadium in Arlington or NRG Stadium in Houston in the state championship. Instead, he knew he had just two more games left as a high school player.
But like many of his teammates, Stephens was so much more than just a football player. For him, the phrase “student-athlete” was indeed in the right order because he dedicated as much time and energy to his schoolwork and grades as he did to football, if not more. And his parents, Tim and Charlotte, certainly wouldn’t have had it any other way.
In fact, during Stephens’ junior season, he brought home an uncharacteristic C on his report card.
“That didn’t go well,” he recalled. “My family doesn’t do Cs.”
And even though Stephens had a battle with an advanced placement history course during the fall of his senior season, and at one point worried that he was going down the path of another C, he pulled through and managed to record a high B.
Now, as he sat in a classroom full of other students from various local high schools preparing for the test, Stephens seemingly might have had less pressure than his peers who were still waiting for acceptance to their college of choice. Stephens had already verbally committed to Stanford back in early September on a full athletic scholarship.
But Stanford is considered by many to be the “Ivy League” of the West Coast, so the pressure to deliver high marks was likely no different, if not even greater, than the pressure Stephens felt to carry his team to victories on Friday nights.
“I studied my tail off for the SAT,” Stephens recalled. “In the middle of the season, and we’ve got our own classes, but I found time to study for that. It’s not easy to prepare for, but I was confident, and I was ready for it.”
Even at this point in the year, quarterback Matt Keys was still undecided about where he would go to college. He entered the season still hopeful that a successful effort on the field might lead to a football scholarship—but only at a bigger school that met his academic requirements.
With his eyes on the Ivy League, or potentially schools such as Vanderbilt or Stanford, Keys had a solid fallback plan of attending the business program at the University of Texas in Austin. So playing football for just any small school that offered him a scholarship wasn’t going to be a viable option for him. Keys knew more than likely his football career would end the very second the curtain fell on Plano’s 2015 season, but he still wasn’t about to close the door on anything.
Keys had already taken the ACT and scored “very well,” which wasn’t a surprise to the usually straight-A student. Other than a “high B” in a calculus class, a course the quarterback said “easily could’ve been an A,” his grades didn’t change much at all during his senior year.
This was Keys’ first and only season as the starting quarterback, though, which did alter some of his time management, especially in the mornings.
On Tuesdays and Wednesdays at 6:30 a.m. each week, Keys had a film-room session with quarterbacks coach, Carson Meger, and selected offensive players. On Thursday mornings, Keys attended a bible study at the school and then led a Fellowship of Christian Athletes meeting
on Friday mornings, which made for long days with the game later that night.
So finding time to study during weeknights was challenging.
“I was always so tired,” Keys admitted. “Football is my top priority. I would come home beat and do homework, but during the season, just finding time to sleep was the biggest problem.”
And that’s one of the reasons Keys welcomed the bye week with open arms. While he certainly caught up on his sleep, especially on the weekend with no game, the quarterback also adopted a different attitude for the final two outings of his high school, and most likely his football, career.
“For me, it was always about figuring out what I’m playing for,” he said. “We thought we were going to be a playoff team, but it didn’t happen. So when the bye week hit, I really tried to refocus myself. I wanted to just soak up the time in my last two or three weeks of football that I’d ever have. I put so much time and effort into it, and my family has been there with me the entire way. I just wanted to make the most of it. But, the week off was really nice.”
Actually, the week off was good timing for other reasons. As it turned out, many games in the Dallas-Fort Worth area that weekend were either postponed or even cancelled because of torrential downpours that flooded some areas.
So with the week off, the Wildcats avoided what likely would’ve been a night of lightning delays and certainly an evening of relentless rain. The players probably would’ve loved it, slipping and sliding around the sloshy elements reminiscent of the days when they played football in the backyard. The parents, meanwhile, probably were just fine with how the schedule played out.
As for the coaches, during the bye week they might have taken a slight pause in their daily rigors, but not much of one. The combination of not having a game on Friday night and being eliminated from the playoffs certainly didn’t change the mood or the schedule of Jaydon McCullough. If anything, his nights were even longer during the break, as he and the staff dug deeper in the film room, trying to figure out ways to finish the season on the right foot.