McDaniel’s success with the Sooners did not compare with the stardom he achieved during and after an eight-year career in the AFL, when he crossed over to professional wrestling. During his 30 years as a wrestler, McDaniel transformed himself into one of the most popular and admired figures in the sport.
14 Straight Conference Titles
Winning 47 straight games is nothing short of spectacular. It’s a record that has stood the test of time and one many people believe will never be approached.
But Oklahoma’s football teams produced a few other impressive streaks during the late 1940s and into the ’50s. The one that shines brightest is the fact that the Sooners won 14 straight conference titles.
From 1946, Jim Tatum’s lone season as head coach, to 1959, OU captured its conference’s crown every single season. Not only did Bud Wilkinson’s program string together all of those titles, it did not lose to any conference foe from 1947-59.
Lucky Suit
There were many elements that factored into Oklahoma’s legendary 47-game winning streak, including clutch performances, great determination and a few lucky bounces. There was also “The Suit.”
Bud Wilkinson was known to be superstitious, and when he found something that worked, he stuck with it, especially when it came to his football program. One thing that seemed to work for the duration of OU’s famous streak was Wilkinson’s clothes. For each of the 47 games, Wilkinson wore the same gray suit, white shirt, red tie, gray socks and hat.
Hard to Swallow
Smokey Holland was almost 25 years old when he returned home from the Korean War in 1953. He was the elder statesman as far as the freshman class was concerned, and he acted a little more worldly.
That wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
During one of the first fall practices, Holland was stretching and going through workouts when he was approached by freshman coach Port Robertson.
“Mr. Holland, I know that you are older and a lot wiser than the young kids on this team, but if that’s tobacco in your mouth, you need to do that on your own time,” offered Robertson.
Point taken. “OK, Coach, I’ll spit it out and won’t do it any more.”
A couple of days later, Holland was working out during practice and Robertson noticed a little sag in his lip.
“Mr. Holland, is that tobacco in your mouth?” he asked.
“Yes, Coach,” Holland answered.
But before he could even finish the short answer, Robertson had wrestled him to the ground and made him swallow the tobacco. Holland turned about five shades of green and never once returned to practice with tobacco in his mouth the rest of the season.
Coaching Schools
In the years after Bud Wilkinson established Oklahoma as a national power on the college football scene, high school, college and even professional coaches from around the country wanted to know the secret to Wilkinson’s success. To accommodate all of the letters, telegrams and phone calls, the Sooner coach began hosting a coaching school during the off-season.
Wilkinson would demonstrate his system and break down the various elements he believed were critical to the success of his OU program. Coaches came from everywhere to listen to the Great White Father talk football.
During the decade of the 1950s, Wilkinson earned more money conducting class in his school than he ever dreamed of making as the coach at Oklahoma.
Sabotaged or Bad Luck?
When Oklahoma traveled to Chicago for its 1959 season opener with Northwestern, little did it know opposition much more powerful than the Wildcats was lurking in the shadows.
Bud Wilkinson’s Sooners were ranked second in the country, and Northwestern was given little chance to win the contest.
As was customary for Wilkinson-coached teams, the Sooners arrived three days early to begin final preparations. On Wednesday night, the team had reservations at the Chez Paris dinner club. It was a time to eat, relax and enjoy before getting down to business the following day.
Late in the meal, a handful of players began to show signs of illness. And it was getting worse by the minute. As many as eight Sooners were taken by taxi to a local hospital, supposedly suffering from some kind of food poisoning.
The team was in total shock. Team officials began looking for answers and hoping the sick players were going to be OK by Saturday. Of course, by the time they turned their investigation back to the restaurant, the evidence was long gone.
It was believed that a drug such as morphine was placed in the jello, and rumors began circulating that several big Chicago gamblers were responsible.
“We ate everything in sight that night,” said guard Karl Milstead. “The only thing I didn’t eat was the jello. So I always figured that must have been it.”
Milstead said the players heard talk of a police investigation, but that nothing ever came of it.
Meanwhile, the eight sick players spent most of the next two days in the hospital. They were released in time for Friday practice, but were in no shape to help the team at that point.
“Those guys were all weak and still recovering by the time the game rolled around,” added Milstead. “We just weren’t the same team, especially without [quarterback] Bobby Boyd. “We got the hell beat out of us that day.”
To worsen matters for the Sooners, a huge thunderstorm hovered over the stadium that day. Northwestern took the lead early and rolled to a 45-13 victory.
Royal Treatment
Darrell Royal was a disciple of Bud Wilkinson. He played for the man, respected him and loved him.
And when Royal got the head coaching job at Texas in 1956,he learned to beat his idol, over and over. In fact, during Wilkinsons final six seasons at Oklahoma, his Sooners lost six times to Royal’s Longhorns.
To that point in his career, Wilkinson had owned a 9-2 record versus Texas.
I’ll Take that Bet
Breckenridge, Texas, native Larry Munnerlyn was a character to the core. A backup tackle most of his playing career at OU, Munnerlyn entertained his teammates with wild stories and even wilder acts.
He would take a $2 bet just for the fun of it. No matter how crazy or outlandish the bet.
During the 1958 off season, several Sooner players were discussing the frozen condition one night of the reflection pool located just outside the window of the study hall they were in. Munnerlyn joined the conversation, and one of his teammates said he would give a $1 to anyone brave enough to crack the ice on the pool and take a swim.
Munnerlyn could not resist. And he survived to tell about it.
“Larry earned the reputation of being a little on the crazy side, but he was a really good fella,” said teammate Brewster Hobby.
One time, Munnerlyn allegedly drank an entire quart of motor oil as a result of a $1 wager.
CHAPTER FOUR
The 1960s
“58 Special”
BUD WILKINSON’S OU PLAYBOOK rarely relied on gimmicks or trickery, although the occasional sleight of hand did make its way into the Sooners’ split-T attack. Such was the case during the 1962 season, and it came from a pair of unlikely sources.
Early on, the Sooners were having problems getting their offense jump-started. A 7-3 win over Syracuse in the season opener was followed by a 13-7 home loss to Notre Dame. Moving the ball was a problem, and Wilkinson was searching for answers.
The Sooners had a week off before traveling to Dallas to meet Texas. One day after practice, Wilkinson spotted third-team quarterback Ronnie Fletcher throwing long passes to a scout team freshman named Lance Rentzel. Intrigued by the aerial display, Wilkinson invited Fletcher and Rentzel to his office the following day. He explained to the pair that he might be interested in putting their skills to use in a future game.
Wilkinson designed a halfback pass play called “58 Special” and had Fletcher and Rentzel work on it that week. Neither player figured the coach would call the play, especially when they learned that Fletcher would be riding the team bus to Dallas while Rentzel would h
ave to provide his own transportation.
“They packed Lances gear on the bus, but he had to drive his ’57 Thunderbird and meet us in Dallas the next day,” said Fletcher. “We never thought we’d actually get into the game.”
Their chances of hooking up were further jeopardized when Rentzel’s car broke down near Marietta, Oklahoma. Although he managed to hitch a ride, Rentzel did not arrive until late Friday evening. Two hours prior to kickoff, he made it to the OU locker room at the Cotton Bowl.
As it turned out, the Sooners’ offensive struggles continued that day and they found themselves trailing the Longhorns 9-0 with 40 seconds left in the opening half. That’s when Wilkinson decided to unveil “58 Special.” Quarterback Norman Smith took the snap and pitched the ball to Fletcher, who rolled right and fired a 40-yard pass to Rentzel, who was tackled at the Texas 40.
As the pair started back to the sideline, Wilkinson motioned them to stay. He called the same play to the opposite side. This time, Rentzel outmaneuvered UT defender Jimmy Hudson and hauled in Fletcher’s pass for an Oklahoma touchdown.
Figuring Texas would not fall for the play again, Wilkinson did not call on the services of Fletcher and Rentzel again that afternoon. The Sooners eventually lost 9-6.
Who’s the New Guy?
Bud Wilkinson was in for a surprise during his team’s annual picture day prior to the 1962 season. Upon his arrival at the photo session at Owen Field, the legendary coach spotted an imposing-looking lad ripped with muscles whom he did not recognize.
After checking with his staff, Wilkinson discovered the player was a little-known recruit from Cameron College in Lawton, Oklahoma. His name was Joe Don Looney, and he did not remain a little-known recruit for long.
No. 33 Joe Don Looney. Photo courtesy of the University of Oklahoma
In the Sooners’ opening game that season, Looney began to cultivate his legend as both a fine football player and unmanageable revolutionary.
Looney made his debut with OU trailing Syracuse 3-0, and upon entering the huddle late in the contest, told quarterback Monte Deere, “Give me the damn ball, I’m going for a touchdown.” The first time the rookie back touched the ball, he sprinted 60 yards for the only TD of the game.
OU won 7-3, and Looney’s closing heroics made national headlines.
A Visit from Jack
An hour before Oklahoma was scheduled to do battle with Bear Bryant’s Alabama squad in the 1963 Orange Bowl, Bud Wilkinson’s Sooners got a locker-room visit from President John F. Kennedy.
Kennedy had developed a working relationship with Wilkinson after the coach signed on to direct his national fitness program a year earlier. Wilkinson began the visit by saying “Fellas, there’s a friend of mine I’d like you to meet…”
While talking about the fitness program, Kennedy walked up to OU player Larry Vermillion and gave him a playful punch in his oversized belly. Looking up at Wilkinson, the president said, “Is he all right?”
The looming tension in the room gave way to laughter.
End of the Road
An award-winning author, Harold Keith became the uttermost authority on Oklahoma athletics, especially football, during a 39-year stint as the school’s sports information director. Hired by OU athletic director Bennie Owen in 1930, Keith became a fixture at his alma mater.
His job was to record and dispense information relating to OU sporting events, but Keith did much more. His sense of history and articulate nature were legendary. He wrote 16 books and served as president of the College Sports Information Directors of America, earning that organization’s famed Arch Ward Award in 1961.
In his book Forty-Seven Straight!, Keith chronicled the Sooners’ record winning streak during the mid-1950s, at all of which he had a front-row seat.
“Harold was the ultimate authority, but he never acted like it. He was one of the first people to do sports information as a profession. For years, he lived what people consider history today,” said Mike Prusinski, OU sports information director from 1988-2000. “He could tell stories that you’d be happy to sit around and listen to for hours, taking in every single word. He was special.”
Keith retired on July 1, 1969, and was succeeded by his son, John.
Sooner Dreams
Growing up in Miami, Oklahoma, Steve Owens was fated to become a University of Oklahoma football fan. As a young boy, he dreamed of playing for the Sooners and becoming part of the tradition Bud Wilkinson continued to shape every autumn.
Owens developed into an outstanding athlete and nurtured his love of OU football every chance he got. As a teenager, he worked at a local shoe store called The Hub, and on Saturdays he would more often than not find himself in the storeroom listening to OU games on the radio.
“We didn’t sell too many shoes on Saturday afternoons,” laughed Owens. “The owner of the store was a big OU fan, too, and we both listened to the games as much as possible.”
As Owens matured into one of the top running backs in the state, his recruiting stock shot off the scale with many of the major college programs in the country. Unfortunately, OU had fallen on hard times during his senior season at Miami. The Sooners finished 3-7 that fall under Gomer Jones, and he resigned shortly thereafter.
“I had a chance to go to a lot of different schools, but I was mostly looking at Arkansas and Oklahoma,” explained Owens. “Arkansas coach Jim Mackenzie was really after me, and I knew it was going to be a tough decision.”
Then fate stepped in. Oklahoma hired Mackenzie to replace Jones, and his first phone call was to Owens.
“He said forget everything I told you about Arkansas. You’ve always wanted to go to Oklahoma and that’s where you need to go,” laughed Owens.
By the time he was through in Norman, Owens had rewritten almost every OU rushing record, including career touchdowns (56) and career yards (3,867). He also became the first Sooner since Billy Vessels in 1952 to win the Heisman Trophy.
The Wicked Worm
Bobby Warmack was never one to seek publicity or try to draw attention to himself during his quarterbacking days at Oklahoma in the mid-1960s. In fact, he was more than happy to quietly go about his duties under center and let the spotlight fall on any of his surrounding cast, namely running back Steve Owens.
Charged by coaches Jim Mackenzie and Chuck Fairbanks, Warmack helped lead a revival of OU football during his time as starting quarterback. After finishing 6-4 in 1966 with victories over Texas and Big Eight champion Nebraska, the Sooners turned the following season into a magical journey that saw them go 10-1 and win the Orange Bowl.
It wasn’t until just before that season-capping win over Tennessee, 26-24, that Warmack started receiving his due. While prepping to play in the Orange Bowl, OU players noticed Vols standout quarterback Dewey Warren was affectionately called the “Swamp Rat” by his teammates and fans. So they decided to come up with a clever nickname for their quarterback.
“Gene Cagle tagged me the ‘Wicked Worm.’ I guess it had something to do with my running ability. I kind of slithered here and slithered there, nothing too fancy,” said Warmack.
The nickname may not have struck fear into the hearts of opposing defenses, but Warmack was a winner. He went 21-9 as a starter during his Sooner career and has been described as one of the most underrated quarterbacks in Sooner history.
Hey, Heppy
Harry Daniel Hettmannsperger Jr. That’s more than a mouthful. And Hettmannsperger was more than just a college football player. He was a unique character who marched to the beat of a different drum in 1966.
“Heppy,” as he was called by teammates, often found himself in Chuck Fairbanks’ doghouse. He was the OU Police Department’s worst nightmare, always doing something foolish to draw its ire.
“Heppy was quite a character, very unique,” said teammate Steve Owens. “He was a very strong individual and a heckuva linebacker.”
Hettmannsperger used to demonstrate his strength by taking rope-climbing wagers during OU’s fourt
h-quarter workouts on the south base. While everyone else was struggling to get up a 30-foot rope the conventional way, Hettmannsperger bet teammates he could do it upside down.
“You didn’t want to bet against Heppy when it came to something like that. He was amazing when it came to things like that,” added Owens.
Unfortunately for Hettmannsperger, while there were innocent stunts like being able to pick his nose with his tongue, he couldn’t stay out of trouble with the local authorities.
One night, Hettmannsperger was speeding around campus when the OU police began chasing him. By the time they finally cornered him on the south oval, there were 10 police cars and 20 officers involved. It took just about all 20 to restrain the OU starter, who threw several of the officers over his car before being subdued.
Blank Check
Lance Rentzel parked wherever he wanted to park on campus. Restricted lots meant nothing to the flamboyant running back and his 1957 Thunderbird.
During the course of his four-year stint with the OU football team, Rentzel racked up dozens of parking tickets that he basically ignored, at least until his senior year. That’s when he took the tickets and a blank check to the OU Campus Police Department.
“It’s signed,” Rentzel said.
“Just fill out the amount and cash it when I graduate.”
Problem Child
Members of Bud Wilkinson’s coaching staff were amazed with what running back Joe Don Looney could do on a football field. He was fast, strong, agile and instinctive.
It was the way Looney carried himself off the field that worried Wilkinson and company.
During a coaches’ meeting shortly after Looney’s arrival to Norman, one of the assistant coaches expressed his concern:
“If we are going to keep this guy on our team, we’re going to have to hire a psychologist. We can’t control him by ourselves.”
Sign, Then Sit
In the aftermath of an exciting Bedlam victory over Oklahoma State that concluded the 1964 regular season, four Oklahoma players were approached by and eventually signed with an agent looking to represent them during their professional playing careers. Since it was a violation of NCAA rules to sign with an agent before the end of the season, the players were sworn to secrecy until the Sooners finished off the campaign at the ’65 Gator Bowl.
Tales from the Oklahoma Sooner Sideline Page 6