Good Ground for a Fight

Steve Sarkisian has the Longhorns on sacred and good ground before a reunion in College Station.

"I don't think in my opening press conference I said, 'I came to the University of Texas to win 10 games.' We came here to win championships. That's been our goal, that's been the standard, and that's what we'll keep striving for."

Steve Sarkisian is only the third coach in Texas Football history to win 10 regular-season games in back-to-back seasons. And he said it best: obtaining 10 wins isn’t the goal, nor the destination, at a program like Texas. But if history is any indication, it means Texas is trending in the right direction. The three coaches who have achieved the feat haven’t stumbled into it. Texas isn’t a place where you win in spite of yourself. There’s a reason that list doesn’t include outliers like John Mackovic or Tom Herman—coaches who might have won 10 games once but didn’t repeat the next year.

So, before I scoop serving after serving of Aggie-filled hate off the Thanksgiving platter and consume enough of it to necessitate a larger belt size, I wanted to reflect on where Texas is right now, both as a program and this week. This might be the time fans look back on decades from now and think, I wish we were back in 2024. That was sacred ground.

I don’t mean to over-spiritualize college football, but come on—it’s a religion. The stadiums we fill are the churches, the televisions we scream at are the altars, and the fight songs are our worship songs penned in a different hymnal. Just as the books of the Bible and all religions are filled with those who believe they’re the chosen people, so do fans. The rivals? They’re our Philistines. Like all of the most pious throughout human history, we view ourselves as the chosen people while the enemies are the outcasts—the forsaken.

Before I was a writer or a disillusioned sales professional, I was once a man of the cloth, as they say. So, if you’ll allow it, I’ll draw a biblical comparison from the Old Testament to where Texas is now. When Moses encounters the burning bush in Exodus, the voice of God tells him to take off his sandals, a reminder that he’s on holy ground. Texas fans should take off their shoes right now and look at where they’re standing.

Though a comment made by Sarkisian last week drew some ire from fans for reminding them of a fat-cat Mack Brown or a Herman-esque remark like, "Winning is hard," the comment seemed more like an affirmation to his own players to appreciate where they are and not get lost in the uncertainties of the future. Texas fans would do well to heed his advice:

"Don’t forget what the last decade looked like. Let’s just remember how good we’ve got it right now and appreciate this team and how good they’re playing right now."

Most of the Old Testament, much like most of college football, is just a bunch of walking around in the desert, wandering, hoping to finally find a place where you can kick the sandals off your dirty feet and plant them on good ground. In the first article I ever wrote about Texas, I compared the Longhorns to the Israelites—whose moments of glory are surrounded by long periods of wandering. Texas fans know all too well about stumbling around the desert, as that’s where the blue-blood Longhorns spent all of the 2010s and the beginning part of this decade.

When the prospects of the program’s success looked bleak, it didn’t make the coming of football season any less exciting. Every fanbase talks themselves into success in August. The issue was how quickly the balloon became deflated—how soon the realities of the dry desert were laid bare, year after year. There were punches in the teeth against BYU, crotch kicks by Cal, the season always ending even before Red River—it was always over so fast.

I think about the excitement I had through Christmas last year and still have now, and it’s such a welcome relief from how quickly things fell apart in the past. Not so long ago, the prospect of even getting excited about a game close to Halloween was rare. And there were even fewer times in the last 13 seasons when stakes were attached to the Longhorns’ Thanksgiving game. Well, there are enormous stakes now.

Longhorn fans, take off your shoes. Look at the ground you’re standing on.

Texas and Texas A&M are reunited on Thanksgiving week, and I can hardly stand the nerves, but I can’t contain my excitement. It’s all too familiar a tradition, yet totally new. They’re playing for a spot in the Southeastern Conference Championship. How would I have reacted had someone told me that in 2008?

The history of the rivalry is defined by one team spoiling the other’s season or the underdog simply getting pummeled into the dirt by the superior program (mostly Texas doing the beating) and necessitating change. Only twice have they met while both ranked in the top 10, and while A&M isn’t there at this time, the implications of Saturday are still rare. A loss won’t end the Longhorns’ playoff chances, nor will it serve as some sort of indictment on Sarkisian’s program—but it will hurt. That’s when Texas fans (like myself) might need to remember again just where the Longhorns are standing. Where Sarkisian has this program planted. A loss doesn’t undo that fact. Texas has the high ground.

All that being said, there’s no reason to assume the worst. It’s only Tuesday. The trip into Kyle Field and 110,000 battered Aggies wanting revenge for Justin Tucker and a century of Big Brother-ing is daunting. But, I think about General John Buford in the Battle of Gettysburg. Buford, played by Sam Elliot in the eponymous 1994 movie and brilliantly written in the book the film is based on, The Killer Angels by Michael Shaara, laid the groundwork for a Union victory by finding the high ground early and having his outnumbered men “fight like the devil.” Buford's bravery and position thwarted the Confederates’ early advances. In the book and movie, Buford says over and over again that where they’re fighting from is “good ground.” It’s a reminder to himself not to retreat—to hold firm in his place. Texas hasn’t been waiting 13 years for revenge. These same Longhorns have played in giant road games before, and they have the more veteran team, with loads of talent and depth to boot. The Aggies have a first-year coach, a redshirt freshman quarterback in Marcel Reed who (while very talented) lacks weapons and experience, plus the team is a patchwork roster of transfers mixed with Jimbo Fisher holdovers. Texas holds the advantageous position, despite all of the crazed audience members who will be wearing maroon and waving white towels.

Sarkisian has Texas Football on sacred ground—that much is obvious. As for this week? I look out, and I see good ground for a fight.