My Core Games at DKR
Growing up in Austin in the 1990s, I don't have many profound football memories of Darrell K Royal-Texas Memorial Stadium pre-Mack Brown. I remember sleeping across my parents' laps on a frigid night when the Longhorns beat the tar out of the Red Raiders. There were some vague games where I was just a number in the crowd; I couldn't tell you who was playing or who won, only that I was there and that there sure were a ton of crickets piled up under the lights on the East Side bleachers before the upper deck was built.
I know we were at Brown's first game, a beatdown of a different form of Aggie in New Mexico State. Once again, we sat on the East bleachers above some fraternity guys whose language selection was eye-opening to my eight year-old self.
The memories from the early 2000s are much clearer. I remember being thrilled to see Roy Williams in person because he was my go-to guy on the old versions of NCAA. I know I saw a few games where Major Applewhite Chris Simms both played and remember my parents' groans when Applewhite didn't take the field.
But two games stand out as core memories when it comes to that stadium, that crowd, and me. On those two nights, I saw what DKR could be from an environment standpoint and what the Longhorn fan base can be when it and a team become intertwined. These two games, one when I was 14 and the other when I was 18 and a freshman in college (not at Texas), are still vivid. Though the games themselves were very different, the crowd came unglued. Both games had huge impacts on me; I'm still thinking about them all these years later, still hoping for nights like those.
In the first half, the Pokes could do absolutely nothing wrong, and the Longhorns could do nothing right. The Cowboys had one-handed catches and a game script so hot it probably caught on fire, while Vince Young threw multiple interceptions. But Texas was driving down the field before halftime and would get the ball to start the third. My dad and I said to one another, "If they score here, they have a chance." Young to Bo Scaife for a touchdown made it 35-14, and there was hope amidst what had been a complete disaster.
Then the roles switched in the second half: OSU couldn't do anything right, and Texas could do nothing wrong. When Ramonce Taylor took an end-around 47 yards to the house to improbably tie the game, the metaphorical roof was blown off of DKR. We were on the West side that night, in seats I'd always associated with the popularly named "wine and cheese" crowd that arrived late and stayed seated while fanning themselves all game while checking their watch.
But that night, I saw grown men losing control of themselves like they were children, guys standing on seats and doing Simone Biles-style jumps into the next row to hug their friends. Elderly women were screaming so loud that every blue vein in their necks and heads looked like it was about to burst. When a crowd and team unite, it feels predestined, inevitable. In my opinion, it was the night that the team Texas fans had been waiting decades for finally arrived. When Young rushed 42 yards for a touchdown to make the game a certified blowout, he arrived.
October 18th, 2008: Texas 56, Missouri 31On a personal note, I wasn't attending Texas at the time, but this was the night I knew I had to be a part of it. Had I had a crystal ball and known that Charlie Strong was coming, maybe I would have felt differently.
I kid, I kid—on that night, I was hooked all the livelong day, even if I didn't fully realize it at the time. No. 5 Texas had beaten No. 1 Oklahoma the week before, and the No. 11 Missouri Tigers were coming to town at night. Now Texas was the No. 1 team, and the Longhorns' opponent was painfully unaware of the fact that they were being served up as the feast for the heroes' welcome home.
From the first play, the country ass-kicking, or Old Testament butt-whipping—whatever you want to call it—was on. The footballs thrown by Colt McCoy that night had nary a grass stain on them, and the Longhorn defense tackled as violently as any Texas group I've ever seen. It was a bloodthirsty crowd in attendance, ready to place the crown atop their team's head. Years later, when I heard Chris Del Conte say the words "a united Texas is a reckoning," I thought back to that night, that team, that crowd.
The environment on Saturday night against Georgia will have some parallels to 2008, albeit that Kirby Smart 's Georgia Bulldogs are way better than that Chase Daniel -led Missouri squad.
DKR welcomes a No. 1 team home that has just conquered the Sooners, along with College Gameday. But so much has changed—Formula 1 coming to town on the same weekend as Georgia shows how it's a completely new Austin. Plus, it's a brand new opponent; there's a new conference logo on the field and on the jerseys.
Yet so much has stayed the same. It's a Longhorn team with even more to prove and a Texas crowd ready to come unglued. It will be an unforgettable Saturday night on The 40 Acres. It's the type of night that could tie people together for years, decades even—something more than a game, something that fans years from now don't just picture in their minds, but they feel down to their cores.
The Rest of the BestSome notable games of the last 25-ish years I wasn't able to attend:
I was there
Wet Fart Games
Day Games That Deserved to Be Played at Night
Cool Helmet Matchups, Not Great Texas Teams
Hungry Crowds, Underrated Games
A Game from Each Decade Since 1950 I Wish I Could Have Attended
