by Nick Eatman
Just like that, the Cowboys’ efforts once again were lost. Defensive end Greg Hardy, who was inches away from sacking Bradford on the final play, was so upset with the outcome that he took his helmet off and with two hands slammed it down on the turf, his mouthpiece, chinstrap, and any other particles that were attached to the helmet flying around in a mini-explosion.
Which was fitting because the Cowboys’ season was exploding in front of their eyes, and it was happening in different ways. Sure, the offense was the main culprit with Tony Romo out, but this was another example of the defense failing to come through in the clutch. The defense allowed a game-winning touchdown in overtime against the Saints, allowed a last-minute drive by the Seahawks the week earlier, and had now given up another overtime loss. And two weeks prior, it was the special teams that surrendered what proved to be the game-winning touchdown on the road in New York.
Before the game, in the team huddle, Mincey had tried to rally the troops with a fiery pep talk, telling them, “It ain’t about how you fall. It’s about how you get back up. And today, I promise you, we’re gonna get back up.”
But this thing was bigger than any emotional speech could fix. The Cowboys didn’t get back up. Instead, they kept falling, all the way to their sixth straight defeat.
Chapter 12
TWO KINDS OF TURNOVERS
Friday
In Texas, there are two distinct types of high school football programs every year: the ones that make the playoffs, and the ones that don’t.
Each district in the state, even the ones with just six schools, will send four teams to the postseason. Of course at Plano, the treacherous nine-team district of 6–6A proved to be too lethal for the Wildcats to advance past the tenth game in 2015.
For just the second time since Jaydon McCullough had become the head coach at Plano in 2007, his Wildcats were not participants in the postseason. Life after football started in mid-November for a change.
For some of the players, it meant open afternoons with no practice. For others, it meant moving on to the next sport. That included the coaches, who often doubled and even tripled up by helping out with other sports at the high school.
So where did McCullough spend his next Friday night after the regular season was over? Well, that would be at a high school playoff game, naturally.
Now, don’t think it wasn’t somewhat painful for him to sit in the stands; but just like he preaches to the players on his own team, McCullough’s life truly is “family first.” And with his brother, Joey, head coaching archrival Plano East in the first round of the playoffs, McCullough was there when the Panthers traveled to Denton’s C.H. Collins Athletic Complex, the home stadium of Billy Ryan High School.
Although in full support of his brother, McCullough was still no different than other coaches who let their minds wonder about, “What if this could’ve happened here?” or “What if the ball bounced our way there?” That was just part of being a coach and always wanting to compete.
While many who supported the maroon and white at Plano might have found some comfort in seeing Plano East fall to Ryan, 56–33, McCullough certainly didn’t share the sentiment.
“I love my brother and always want him to win … except when he’s playing us,” Jaydon said with a big smile. “But I’m really proud of what he’s doing over there.”
Had Plano East made it all the way to states, it’s likely McCullough would’ve been at every game, if his schedule permitted. And being the head coach of a team out of the playoffs, that’s something he would’ve made work.
However, attending playoff matchups can’t be easy on any coach whose program not only has been successful, but also is expected to be every year. Watching those games at neutral sites, and sometimes at venues such as AT&T Stadium only brought back more memories for McCullough. He took his Plano team five rounds deep in the playoffs during his first year as head coach, only to lose to eventual state champion Trinity High School from Euless, 30–27, in an epic game played at the now-demolished Texas Stadium.
Two years later, one of McCullough’s fondest memories occurred after his team dropped to 2–6 following a 51–7 loss to Allen High School. The Wildcats won their last two outings to sneak into the playoffs and then defeated Duncanville High School in a game that saw them trailing 17–0 at the half before rallying to win 28–17, setting up a rematch with Euless Trinity, which had scored eighty-eight points the week earlier in their playoff win. With the game being played at the brand-new Cowboys Stadium, now AT&T, Plano again fell by three, 41–38, to the Trojans, which went on to claim another state title.
McCullough would’ve given anything to be back in the playoffs again, but all he could do now was focus on next year. And he was grateful for the opportunity to do that.
While he had told his assistants before the last game that beating Lewisville was important for everyone’s job security, there was never any official statement from the higher-ups, which he chalked up to “no news is good news.” Maybe there wouldn’t have been any change regardless of the final game, but McCullough and his staff were certainly excited that they didn’t have to find out.
However, one of his assistants had thoughts of leaving anyway. Not that Chris Fisher was unhappy, but like most assistant coaches, his dreams and vision included running his own program, especially one that he called home.
“BEING THE HEAD COACH of Palo Duro High School was the reason I got into coaching,” said Fisher, an all-district cornerback at PDHS in 1993, when he was also one of the senior captains. “I didn’t know if that would ever happen, but when I became a coach, that was a goal that I set out for.”
A walk-on defensive back for two years at Midwestern State University in Wichita Falls, Texas, Fisher ended up quitting football so he could focus on his academics, and once worked three jobs in one semester to help pay his own way in his quest to become the first person in his family to graduate from college.
Earning his business degree in the fall of 1998 was a major accomplishment for Fisher, who moved to Dallas immediately and started working for Toyota Motor Credit. But it wasn’t long before he got that football itch. And after seeing some of his former college buddies land teaching and coaching jobs in the Plano area, it piqued his interest. Within just a couple of years, Fisher got his teaching certificate and was working in the Plano ISD himself. By 2005, he was coaching varsity full-time and would wind up spending fourteen years at Plano.
Along the way, he had interviewed for five other head-coaching jobs, including Wichita Falls High School, Plano East, and R.L. Turner High School in nearby Carrollton. That’s the one job Fisher thought he had locked up back in 2012.
“I walked away thinking I had nailed it,” Fisher said. “I left the interview so confident that I was already making plans in my mind of who to bring with me.”
But Fisher was passed over, just like he was for high school head-coaching positions in the towns of Salado and Dumas as well.
He never had played at any of those schools, though. Fisher had never walked the hallways at places such as “Old High” in Wichita Falls or worn the uniform at Plano East. He knew what it was like to be a Palo Duro Don, so when he put together his résumé packet for the sixth time, he just had a feeling this one would be different.
While Fisher was looking for a possible change, the same thoughts were starting to creep into the mind of Brandon Stephens, Plano’s do-it-all running back who had committed to Stanford back in Week 2 of the regular season.
When the season ended, Stephens’ verbal commitment was still strong, but the free time allowed him to at least consider some other options, even if it wasn’t publicly. Recruiting services around the country are involved in a competitive business, with various websites and reporters always trying to gain the latest information. So Stephens was asked often, by both strangers and oftentimes classmates, if he was still
going to Stanford.
Through November and into December, that answer never changed. But inside, he was starting to weigh his options again and even pulled out a few of the shiny, glossy brochures and letters he had received from other schools.
Again, Stanford was still the plan for Stephens, but with the season over, he knew his options—and eyes—were now open for any possibility.
Saturday
In most professions, especially in sports, some of the hardest-working members of the team are those behind the scenes who generally get no credit or praise for their work.
For nationally recognized college football programs, such is the life for the media relations directors, also known as sports information directors.
At Baylor, a school that has a rather strong group of media coordinators, the guy in charge of the day-to-day operation, especially with the football team, is Heath Nielsen, the associate athletic director for communications. When it comes to media requests for Art Briles and/or the Baylor players, media outlets both in Waco and nationally have to run through Nielsen, who joined the Bears’ media staff in 2000. To say he has seen a drastic change in the way the university is now covered would be the biggest of understatements.
A school that once had to recruit reporters to come out to games now has to turn away credential requests, especially for big games against opponents such as Oklahoma, a matchup of two top-fifteen teams.
But there was no better sign that a program had reached elite status in the world of college football than to have the ultimate pregame show held in your own backyard. ESPN’s College GameDay, which had been a weekly mainstay during the season since 1993, had reached epic proportions over the years, both for the viewers at home who used the three-hour show as their tour guide for a Saturday of action, and of course the fans who packed themselves behind the set to get their face and homemade signs on camera.
The signs are usually creatively witty, but often too over the top with sophomoric humor and trash talking. Still, it brings uniqueness to a show that always ends with a round of predictions. That includes wacky former coach, Lee Corso, who often makes his pick by wearing the head of a mascot, but has used other measures as well, such as shooting off rifles while at Texas Tech or bringing live animals on air like dogs or even a chicken once at South Carolina.
When Nielsen got the call the Sunday before the Oklahoma game that GameDay would be coming to town, he just took a deep breath, knowing what was in store for the upcoming Saturday.
“Well, it makes for a very long day with the show starting at eight a.m. and then the things we have to do to prepare for it, plus the game being at seven that night,” he recalled. “But it’s worth it because for our program, and our brand, it doesn’t get any better than College GameDay coming to your campus. And so it’s a huge thing for us, for recruiting. We were excited to be a part of it again.”
In 2014, Baylor ended its regular season with a victory over Kansas State, an outcome that Corso didn’t predict. He stunned the raucous Bears crowd back then by slapping on the Wildcats’ mascot head, and made it worse by saying, “Today, the winners are wearing purple,” which also referenced that rival TCU would likely claim the Big 12 title with a Baylor loss.
But the Bears were able to win the game, prove Corso wrong, and claim their second consecutive conference crown, a title they shared with the Horned Frogs even though Baylor had beaten TCU in their head-to-head battle.
This time around, the fans were eagerly awaiting Corso’s pick, but were fired up by their own head coach, who made a rather unique entrance. He arrived by pontoon boat, which took him from the football offices straight to the set, where he visited with ESPN’s sideline reporter, Samantha Ponder.
Needless to say, Briles got the crowd riled up. He deflected a question about national pundits doubting his team’s 7–0 record because of a lack of quality opponents by pointing to the nearby fans.
“Can they doubt this?” he said, knowing it would generate a roar from the bright-eyed students who had made their way to the set at 5 a.m. that morning. “It’s a great day. You can find criticism in anything you do, but what we go by is results. Our team has done everything it can do to make this a big game. If we don’t take care of September and October, this isn’t a big game today.”
Knowing Briles is notorious for giving anyone and everyone around him nicknames, Ponder put him on the spot, asking him to do the same for the foursome on the set, including the host, Reece Davis, who was in his first year after Chris Fowler moved into the broadcast booth and was set to call the game later that evening for ABC. Briles had forgotten about that move, and so when he turned around to check out the group, he mistakenly called Davis “Chris Fowler,” which prompted his partners to erupt in laughter. Briles playfully ribbed some of the guys, including Desmond Howard, telling the 1991 Heisman Trophy winner to “come up with a new pose.”
After the interview, Davis playfully fired back, saying his new nickname for Briles would be “Gary Patterson,” the TCU head coach, stirring the pot somewhat considering the intense rivalry that the Bears and Horned Frogs had recently formed.
At the end of the show, Corso went with the Baylor mascot, giving the fans what they wanted to hear and allowing them to walk away from the spectacle feeling as if it were the first of two expected victories that day.
But just like the previous game played at McLane Stadium three weeks earlier against Iowa State, kickoff was met with a steady rainfall that stuck around for most of the night. Despite the weather, one person who was likely happy to be on the field during pregame warm-ups and probably didn’t feel a drop of rain was quarterback Seth Russell, who was on the sideline for his first game since his neck injury, one that had required surgery and an extended stay at a West Virginia hospital.
Russell’s presence was a huge lift for the players, who all took a quick moment to step out of their pregame drills and come over to wish their fallen quarterback well. He didn’t look the same, wearing an elaborate brace with a hard exterior that made sure his neck and upper back stayed compact.
“I was just so happy to be there and see the guys,” Russell said. “Yeah, you want to play and be out there, but with everything that happened, I was just glad I could be there and support my team. It felt right to be down there with them.”
Jarrett Stidham had won his first career start ten days earlier at Kansas State, but everyone knew this would be a stiffer challenge, despite playing at home where the Bears had won an NCAA-best twenty straight games.
As if Oklahoma’s stingy defense wasn’t enough to worry about, Briles had a couple of other things on his mind that weren’t sitting well. Running game coordinator, Jeff Lebby, who also coached the running backs and was the most experienced assistant up in the press box during games, would miss the entire first half to serve the self-imposed suspension for Lebby’s visit on the Tulsa sideline during a September game against Oklahoma.
Briles wasn’t happy about the situation then, and his feelings had hardly changed since. He was still wondering how much any coach could gain by standing on the sideline, and now was just hoping the offense could function normally for a half.
The coach was also unsure how explosive Corey Coleman would be, the dynamic receiver having tweaked his groin during practice. While it wasn’t reported at the time by any media outlet, Coleman revealed four months later that the injury occurred while he was taking reps as a cornerback for a new package Baylor was planning to use on third downs. The idea was to have him shadow always-dangerous wide receiver Sterling Shepherd, one of Oklahoma’s top offensive weapons.
Not only did Coleman not play any defense, he wasn’t the same on offense, either, being held to just three catches for fifty-one yards.
Early on, the Bears made a statement with a run-heavy attack that produced a touchdown on their first drive, which was aided by a 15-yard roughing the pas
ser penalty on the Sooners. But Baylor paid a big price, as Stidham suffered a back injury that limited his mobility and arm strength throughout the rest of game.
And with that, matching up with Oklahoma quarterback Baker Mayfield became even tougher. A former Texas Tech starter, who used the national stage to showcase his talents, Mayfield had the Sooners in control for most of the game and led 34–20 midway through the third quarter.
Stidham engineered a rally and helped cut the lead to 37–34 early in the fourth, but the Baylor defense couldn’t stop Mayfield when it needed to, a crucial late touchdown helping the Sooners regain a double-digit lead and capture a 44–34 win. That ended Baylor’s home winning streak, which had included a perfect 10–0 record at the school’s new McLane Stadium.
With the rain continuing to pour down on the Bears, the players had trouble keeping their heads up as they came to grips with the crushing loss. Walking through the tunnel, up the small flight of stairs, and then over to the locker room had been done several times before, but never with this feeling of defeat weighing on them.
For a season and a half, McLane Stadium had been a safe haven for winning. Even Nielsen felt the change, knowing he needed to ask some of his key players to come to the postgame media room to meet the press. That’s when he saw a side of them that he hadn’t seen before, and didn’t prefer to see again, but still admired.
“It’s easy when you’re winning games and the guys are happy,” Nielsen said. “My job is easy to get a few guys to come in and talk then. It’s when you lose a tough one like we did to Oklahoma, and the guys are disappointed and they don’t want to talk to anyone. I’m super impressed when the loss comes and the players have played up to their capabilities, but they still buck up and face the media when you know they don’t want to.