RICE HOPES TO DO SOMETHING THIS WEEKEND THAT IT HASN’T DONE IN 50 YEARS: BEAT TEXAS IN AUSTIN
Winless at UT since ’65, Rice still finds JFK query applicable
David Bailiff crossed the room, slowly pulled a book off the shelf, and split the spine. Then his 57-year-old fingers traced the inked-in signature as proof.
What Rice means. What Texas was and still is. What it’s like growing up as an Austin kid in the 1960s, worshiping the statewide power of burnt orange and imagining the Longhorns’ football coach as a god made mortal.
Bailiff was 7 and living on the south side of the city the last time the Owls ripped apart Texas in the capital. He barely recalls anything from 1965, let alone Oct. 23, 20-17 Rice, or Richard Parker’s 33-yard field goal with 43 seconds remaining and two cities either living or dying with the truth of the kick.
“I have no memory of this historic monument,” Bailiff said.
But the first time meeting Darrell Royal in person? The threetime national champion, 11-time Southwest Conference winner signing his name in Bailff’s invaluable life keepsake? Rice’s coach will never ever forget that.
“You live in Austin, you’re a Longhorn. That’s just how you grow up,” said Bailiff, who’ll collect his 50th win with the Owls if Houston’s think tank can again embarrass Austin’s supposed superpower Saturday at the
stadium named in Royal’s honor.
Rice-Texas always means something in this football state dictated by dividing lines. But this year’s different. History is crossing eras. Lives are being reconnected.
The 50-year anniversary of 20-17 Owls in Austin is officially still six weeks away. Yet Saturday’s date marks 53 years exactly since President John F. Kennedy came to Houston to challenge a nation during the space race of the Cold War, invoking the names of two polar-opposite universities to remind every American that the greatest things in life are often only obtained by taking the toughest path.
“Why, some say, the moon? Why choose this as our goal?” Kennedy said Sept. 12, 1962, at Rice. “And they may well ask, why climb the highest mountain? Why, 35 years ago, fly the Atlantic? Why does Rice play Texas? … Not because they are easy, but because they are hard.”
When the moon’s reached, it’s never forgotten. Which is why Bailiff ’s inbox was loaded this week by Owls who once lassoed the Longhorns in Austin.
A survivor from ’65 was thinking about his grave site. He needed a little help from the 2015 squad to ensure his final resting place read right.
“He doesn’t want his tombstone to be ‘The last team that beat Texas in Austin,’ ” Bailiff said. “He would prefer for it to say, ‘I was a great father, man, leader.’ I’ve been getting emails from these guys going, ‘You’ve got to help me out before I die.’ ”
Half joking, half life’s truth.
Bailiff was an Austin kid — riding his 10-speed down sleepy Congress Avenue to the university library — when he first figured out how crazy the whole football thing really is. Hog-wild mom
His mother was a Hog. And every time Arkansas tackled Texas in Austin, Bailiff ’s mom proudly rolled in the mud. She’d decorate the family home with Razorbacks memorabilia, place signs in the windows, then put on her hog hat and yell for everyone to hear from the front porch.
“It didn’t matter if the Longhorns won or lost — our home was going to be egged,” Bailiff said. “We would beg her. … She never gave up. She said she was in the Orange Curtain and she was going to do her part.”
Terry O’Rourke twice did his.
In high school, O’Rourke rode his bike to a stadium to hear Kennedy’s speech. Fifty-three years later, “Why does Rice play Texas?” still feels like yesterday. One word floods the mind: confidence.
“We knew that if we just got together, we could beat the Russians and beat the world,” said O’Rourke, 68, a Houston resident.
On Oct. 23, 1965, Rice beat the world. O’Rourke was a sophomore Owl when he headed to Austin with a friend. By halftime, O’Rourke was among the foul-mouthed legion who raced out of the stands, ran onto the field and joyously shouted curse words of encouragement at Owls doing the unbelievable on the stunned Longhorns’ home turf.
“When 66,000 people stand up and sing, ‘Go Horns! Go Horns!’ the feeling you have is if you were cheering for the Christians against the lions in Rome,” O’Rourke said. “With guts, desire and determination, a little team like Rice can beat the hell out of the Texas Longhorns. And I think they can do it this week.”
N.D. Kalu already has. Since 1914, the Owls are 2171-1 against the state’s primary football factory. The last W came in Houston in 1994: 19-17, Rice. Kalu’s life
changed on the spot. A huge deal
“There’s just this overwhelming feeling of accomplishment. No one in the world thought you could do it,” Kalu said. “Our win against Texas probably means as much to us as Alabama winning a national championship.”
The page has now turned to Bailiff.
Tom Herman is taking over college football in Houston. TCU and Baylor have upended the state. Texas A&M has two quarterbacks and a defense. Little Rice has been to three consecutive bowls and still graduated everyone in its senior class last season.
Bailiff wants his signature win. And if there’s ever been a time to invade Austin with grade-point averages, this is it. Charlie Strong’s Longhorns are a laughingstock. The present state of Texas football would make Royal weep.
We finally reached the moon in 1969. Rice still plays Texas. The Owls are going to take down a superpower in Austin again one of these years.
“We know what the odds are,” Bailiff said. “But we’re still dreaming big, and we’re working hard.”