A Texas football Saturday in October, from start to finish. That was the mission.
In the morning, one of the sport's great rivalry games: Texas vs. No. 11 Oklahoma at the Cotton Bowl in Dallas. Afternoon brought No. 9 TCU vs. No. 5 Baylor in Waco, a series played 109 times without both teams ever being ranked at the same time until now. Then for the nightcap, a new SEC West rivalry, No. 3 Ole Miss vs. No. 14 Texas A&M in College Station.
Three of the nation's best college football games, all within 200 miles in a neat line from north to south. A challenge just too good to pass up.
So we boarded the ESPN DIRECTV bus and made the nearly 16-hour voyage from game to game to game. The following is a diary of the sights and the sounds, the atmosphere and the action.
Dallas: Texas-OU, corn dogs and turkey legs
8:30 a.m.: The day begins the only way it can: with a warm corn dog in hand.
David Dixon, a 60-year-old Sooner living in Dallas, has figured this out in his 30-plus years of visiting the State Fair of Texas: You must strike early when the oil's hottest. "You've gotta get the one with the first grease," Dixon said. "That's the best corny dog." Dixon's uncle, the late Tommy Gray Jr., played halfback on OU's 1950 national title team. This isn't his first Red River rodeo. "This is the greatest experience in the world," he proclaims.
9:05: Texas' team bus rolls up to the Cotton Bowl behind a three-motorcycle escort, under overcast skies. Strength coach Pat Moorer, easily the scariest of the Longhorns coaches, is the first off the bus. Each Longhorns player, dressed in their mandatory blazers, khaki pants and burnt orange ties, fist-bumps Mark Evans as they step onto the fairground. It's his first year as the Longhorns' bus driver, and his first foray into the fair was a smooth one. "The team was quiet," Evans said. "Focused. All business."
9:20 a.m.: Tyrone Swoopes Sr. steps up to a Fletcher's Corny Dogs booth and orders his first corny dog, which he smothers in mustard. He's wearing a black hoodie, gray sweatpants and not one hint of worry about his son. "I'm excited for Tyrone," he said. "I saw him last night. He's focused. He had a different persona about himself. He's seen the big stage. He knows what he has to do." Cousin Byron Westmoreland, by his side, predicts Katy Perry will ask for Swoopes' number after this game.
9:34: A group of college guys engage in a priceless economics discussion at the ticket booth. One asks whether 40 tickets is enough. "No!" His buddy claims the cheapest beer at the fair costs 14 tickets. No way will 40 cut it. One brags about the year he bought 200. Their buddy at the front says he dropped $80 on tickets. They all agree that's good.
9:59: The following things can be deep-fried at the State Fair of Texas: Baked potatoes, biscuit fries, blueberry muffins, bacon cinnamon rolls, beer, brisket, buffalo chicken (inside a flapjack), candy bars, cookie dough, Coke, Cuban rolls, Frito pies, gulf shrimp boils, lemonade, jambalaya, milk and cookies, PB&J with bananas and bacon ("The King"), pizza, Pop Tarts, sweet tea and -- for those watching their figure -- butter. That's nowhere close to a comprehensive list of state fair offerings. But this carnival is a cradle of innovation. Now that man has broken the liquids-as-fried foods barrier, it seems all high-cholesterol foods are possible.
10:21: Big Tex, born again after inexplicably burning down in 2012, stands tall over the fair's entrance with his furtive, stoic smirk, welcoming arm gestures and booming "Howdy, folks!" The 55-footer has kept up with culture, too, and reminds fairgoers to charge their phones and use his #BigTex hashtag. Fans surround him to take their group selfies as country music blares nearby. The current of slightly buzzed fans flowing toward and into the Cotton Bowl thickens. Kickoff is coming soon.
10:45: Toby Keith stands at the top of the tunnel into the Cotton Bowl, just outside of Oklahoma's locker room. "This is my 10th or 11th one of these," he said. "Man, look at this place. You can't get this vibe anywhere." He'd later take a spot on the sideline, near the Sooners' 20-yard line. "I think Oklahoma is the dominant team today," he said. "Texas is rebuilding quite a bit. But you never know in this game."
11:03: Sterling Shepard looks downright rabid. Oklahoma's senior receiver is jumping, screaming and waving his arms, his whole team behind him and matching his fire. These Sooners are amped as they make the famed dash down the tunnel into the Cotton Bowl. Texas players, no doubt just as eager, opt instead for a calm and focused march down the tunnel.
11:14: Charlie Strong pumps his fist, more out of relief than excitement. The first disaster of his first Red River Showdown has been avoided. Officials say Malcolm Brown's knee was down before Oklahoma took his fumble to the end zone. But momentum swings, even a false one like this, are way too important today. Texas will show its nerves, with three false starts and a delay of game on their opening drive, but still gets a field goal.
11:25: Boomer gets the first boom. Alex Ross takes a kickoff to the house. Guns blast and the air behind OU's end zone floods with smoke. One half of the stadium is going nuts. The traditional nervous vibe sets in quickly from here: Every gain, every stop, every penalty draws overwhelming applause from one half of the bowl.
Noon: Zack Sanchez dashes right into the silence. He starts his 21st birthday with a bang, jumping a Swoopes pass and dashing 43 yards for a touchdown in the stadium's burnt orange half. He gives a wave to the haters on the way back to the sideline.
12:15 p.m.: Bevo typically stays docile and unmoved by game action. But Smokey the Cannon can get his attention. When Texas receiver John Harris scores and the cannons boom, Bevo turns his head left to express pure annoyance. A second cannon blast compels the 2,000-pound mascot to stand. He turns to face the stands during the "Texas Fight" chant. "He gets excited just like they do," owner John T. Baker says.
12:24: The Sooner Schooner, parked at the end of the tunnel near the OU goal post, is inactive today and just here for show. That's fine by Sarah Shreder, the captain of the Ruf/Nek Lil Sis organization. She's been going to OU games since she was 2, and now she's sitting passenger right behind the two white ponies. "I think I have the best seat in the house," Shreder says. She might be right.
12:30: Gary Houff walks past the Cotton Bowl and into the fair with his family. The former Longhorns defensive back isn't going into the game today, but swears he can tell when it's the Texas fans cheering and when it's the Sooners. He's chomping on a turkey leg, which evidently has changed his life. "I want you to taste it so you'll understand. Go get yourself a turkey leg. Every bite I take is a mouthgasm."
12:45: Halftime. With the exception of Ross' return and Sanchez's interception, Texas completely outplays Oklahoma, holding the Sooners to 29 yards of offense, but still trails 17-13. Alas, the bus must hit the road. No time for that turkey leg.
1:45: As we near Waco, the game in Dallas seems all but over. Oklahoma goes up 31-13 early in the fourth. But Swoopes, facing long odds on his biggest stage, stages a furious comeback attempt. He guides a 12-play touchdown drive, then runs in a 12-yard TD on his next drive to make it 31-26. He's stuffed on the two-point conversion. He'd finish with the finest performance of his young career: 334 passing yards, 50 rushing yards, three TDs, no fear. But the Sooners hold on 31-26, handing Swoopes and Texas their fourth loss of the year.
Waco: Baylor-TCU, boats and blown leads
2:26 p.m.: Game over in Dallas. Just as Texas' hopes are dashed, Baylor's yellow-clad student section is dashing onto the McLane Stadium field for the traditional Baylor Line run, 120 yards of glory from one corner of the $266 million palace to the other. Mason Priest, a freshman from Missouri with a curly green Afro wig, calls the run "an adrenaline rush like I've never had before." Buckle up, kid. It's going to be a long day.
2:57: Doug Meacham turns away from the field and smiles. The Frogs struck first. Baylor, down 14-0, is trailing for the first time this season. The resolve of the 46,803 inside McLane is about to be tested. Meacham's gang aced their first test. The Frogs' first-year co-offensive coordinator has a nervous tic: He goes on walks as he sees fit. On a second-quarter drive, he'll wander all the way to the 5-yard line to watch TCU's defense, which is lined up 70 yards downfield from him. It seems the man bringing new vision to the Frogs' suddenly deadly offense just wants a better view.
3:24: Not all Baylor fans want to be inside McLane. Kevin Pitts is sailgating today, in his pontoon tied up in a slough of the Brazos River about 100 yards from the stadium. The welder from Granger, Texas, wears a Baylor tee but a traffic-cone orange jacket to declare his allegiance to UT. His boat has chew cups on the dash, a couple empty beer cans on the floor and, of course, a veggie platter. He's proud of the flat-screen TV welded to the back. He and his wife are kindly hosting a half-dozen TCU college students on their boat. "I have more of a blast here," Pitts said, "where I can sit up, party and drink ... soda water."
3:38: Welcome to Party Cove. That's what Marcus Campbell and buddies Terrance Reed and Stanley Barnes are calling their spot on the Brazos. They sit in one of the jewels of the pond, a 34-foot pontoon owned by energy executive Lance Byrd with gold chrome trim, a full kitchenette and a slide on top. "Back when Kevin Steele and Guy Morriss was here, we'd get into Floyd Casey Stadium for $5 at the most," Barnes says as he looks out a window, "so it's amazing to drive down the highway and see this. Waco's never seen this."
4:10: Back inside McLane, Alan Roseman is bringing the tarp back. Well, OK, it's just a folded-up blue one for his wife and four children. He's standing in the south end zone grass berm, marveling at the scene. The 32-year-old grad used to leave blowout losses at halftime during his college days. His kids get to grow up during the golden age of Baylor football. They may never know their father's pre-RG III pain.
4:36: Gary Patterson's contentious relationship with Baylor has a fun new chapter. With a second left in the first half, a botched punt snap put Baylor at the TCU 12-yard line. Patterson stepped onto the field to consult with referees. As he turned back to the sideline, he received a chorus of boos from the student-heavy east section. So he grinned and teased them with a "keep talking" hand gesture, just to rile them up. More boos. A nearby photographer shouted, "You've got no class, Gary!" Chris Callahan hit his 29-yard field goal to make it 31-27 TCU at the half, and then "GARY SUCKS" chants rained down as he ran to the locker room.
5:35: While the battle wages on in the third quarter, business is booming around McLane. They have five stadium stores now, filled with Nike gear, mini chrome helmets and Art Briles' new book. They hardly had one shop at Floyd Casey. The food options, like at the state fair, are all over the place -- burgers, Creole, barbecue, even a deep-fried bacon-wrapped hot dog.
5:53: A 59-yard reverse pass from Cameron Echols-Luper to B.J. Catalon to end the third evokes a gasp from Mike Hewatt. The 65-year-old TCU fan, watching from the second-level concourse, is about to see his Frogs go up 51-37. But he knows Bryce Petty isn't done. "I think he's got a lot left in him today. This is amazing stuff," he says. "Both these coaches both have a lot of guts." He's been going to TCU games a long, long time. He's trying to stay calm.
6:20: Some Baylor fans have given up that fight. A line of them fills the Baylor basin bridge as they make the trek back to campus with 11 minutes left in the game. Marcus Mallet's pick-six of Petty made it 58-37. For some, that was the last straw. A few are cussing. Most just have stunned, glum frowns.
6:30: The bus is leaving, too. On to College Station.
6:41: Oops. Probably shouldn't have left. That's how quickly Baylor scored 21 points to tie it up at 58-58. Petty, unfazed by his interception, leads three scoring drives in rapid succession for a career-high 510 passing yards and six TDs. By the way: There's no re-entry into McLane Stadium once you leave.
7:02 p.m.: They did it. They actually did it. Callahan, 1-of-6 on field goals entering the day, finishes off the 24-point run with the game-winning kick from 28 yards out. The final, unbelievable score: Baylor 61, TCU 58. The Baylor Line, fueled by unprecedented adrenaline once more, storms the field.
College Station: A&M-Ole Miss, the sound and the fury
8:15: The pregame fireworks. The yells. The sheer volume of people and their roar. You can see why this is intoxicating, why the gigantic stadium rising tall over the flat acres of College Station is one fine place to watch Saturday night football. They're all-in here in newfound SEC country. They say they run the state now. The largest stadium in the state operates well outside the norm with its military-heavy tradition and does so proudly. And now that they're in the SEC West and riding this Kevin Sumlin-built rocket ship, it's all so amplified. But it also means the best teams in the country are coming to Kyle Field.
8:56: Ole Miss, up 21-0 early in the second quarter, stole this game away quickly. With the menacing Robert Nkemdiche in his face, Kenny Hill chucks a pass that's picked off by Cody Prewitt and returned 75 yards for the score. Before Hill has to go back on the field, he and offensive coordinator Jake Spavital kneel on the sideline and talk through it. Both are in their first year running this offense. The Rebels don't seem to care. This game is threatening to get worse.
9:06: Zachary Lawrence will do more sprinting tonight than any A&M player. The junior Yell Leader in all-white garb is constantly on the run from one corner of the north end zone to the next. The job requires being uncontrollably enthusiastic, no matter the score. The son and grandson of so many Aggies got elected in February. How'd he memorize the dozen different yells and all that choreography? "Took me about a month of practicing in the mirror in my corps dorm." He'll serve a one-year term as one of five Yell Leaders, in a year when Kyle Field -- and the 12th Man -- has never been bigger or louder. "I'm having the time of my life," Lawrence says.
9:12: Now the crowd's getting irritated. "It's all right if y'all don't care, but I care!" shouts Joseph Milburn to a group of seated fans behind him. The 31-year-old with the thick beard and visor, standing in the front row of the north end zone, started tailgating at 3 p.m. He's in no mood for passive fandom. Milburn was a student during the Dennis Franchione years. "We suffered through the bad years," he says. "We paid some bad dues." He brought his "WRTS" ("We Run This State") Aggie license plate with him, which he claims is DMV-authentic. He beat the fan base to it in June and uses it for his barbecue trailer. "We're not outta this game," he declares. "The fans are here. This is the SEC. We're not outta this game yet."
9:35: How did five Ole Miss fans get front-row seats at the 40-yard line? One came all the way from Tampa. His wife hooked him up for his birthday. Two others, from Picayune, Miss., are more intoxicated and honest: "$2,200." They wax poetic about their hatred for LSU and their adoration for Jeremy Liggins, the Rebels' 300-pound tight end whom they want to see at quarterback. "The sound here is unreal," Jamie Varnado says. "Never heard nothing this loud. I'm a Saints season-ticket holder and it's not this loud in the Superdome. Can't imagine how loud it would be if they were winning."
10:13: The crowd comes alive after halftime. Being that this is now SEC territory, the line for Chick-fil-A in the west concourse is as long as the one for the bathroom. There's no line for the nearby stand offering "state fair style" corn dogs.
10:34: There's a basic formula in play here: People x Passion = Volume. A&M has this mastered, and the behemoth new south end zone helps trap all the sound. But on this night, the vibe -- like the Aggies' play -- is a little off. The deflation resumes when the Rebs' Quincy Adeboyejo, a former Aggie commit, hauls in a touchdown to go ahead 28-7. When Keith Lewis scoops up a Hill fumble and scores on the first play of the fourth quarter, it feels like the dagger.
10:49: Reveille VIII naps on a maroon mat during the depressing second half. The collie, in her seventh season, is making her retirement tour this year. The sophomore cadet holding her leash, mascot corporal Ryan Kreider, is happy to talk about having to lower his shoulder into an SMU receiver last month to protect her. "I take a lot of pride in it," he said. Going to the SEC has raised her profile, but Reveille is having a tough time watching this one. Kreider, in his first and only season as her designated handler, can't wait for the coming road trips. "I know for Auburn, we're flying on a private jet," he said. "She gets first-class, her own seat. You don't crate the first lady."
11:00: A touchdown, a cannon boom, a cheer, but the crowd is thinning. The students don't and won't leave. A record crowd -- 110,633, most in the SEC and in Texas history -- is announced as fans hit the aisles. A&M's game-changing play never happens. The joint never explodes. The Aggies played top-five foes in back-to-back weeks. Next up? A trip to Tuscaloosa.
11:24: The night ends on a Texas A&M touchdown so meaningless, nobody is too upset when officials declare the extra point won't be attempted. Final score: 35-20. The Aggies make a quiet march to the locker room, while Hugh Freeze celebrates with the Rebels' band.
11:43: Among the last of the 110,000 to leave are Emil Linnstaedter and his wife, Marynan. They've been married 50 years. Emil was a student in the late 50s. Saw Bear Bryant, John David Crow, Gene Stallings and everything since, a season-ticket holder since '86. The 78-year-old retiree in the maroon ballcap smiles and shrugs. "The SEC is fierce competition. They play good ball. I'll always support 'em. They're my team." And then Emil and Marynan walked off into the dark, right past the corn dog stand closing up shop.