For Texas, bigger isn’t always better

AUSTIN, Texas “”mdash; You might have heard, if you have eardrums and any hint of knowledge about American geography, that everything is bigger in Texas. It’s a phrase that’s as closely related to the state as “Eureka!” is to California, and “How fast can we get out of here?” is to North Dakota.

With UCLA visiting Austin this past weekend, I expected this notion to be on full display. A 100,000-seat stadium, a Lone Star flag that’s bigger than Rhode Island and an incredibly overweight vendor selling beef brisket sandwiches all seemed to contribute to that notion.

But I can’t say that I came away utterly (yes, that’s a cow joke) impressed with the Longhorns and their pasture. For starters, whoever coined the “everything is bigger” jingle clearly never flew the U.S. Airways flight between Dallas and Austin; if I wanted to know what my knees tasted like, I would have done my best impression of the Texas defense and curled up into the fetal position upon my arrival in Austin. If General Santa Anna had traveled to Texas on this flight, he either would have gone right back to Mexico or been so stiff that his forces would be ineffective.

Surely though, the famed environment at Darrell K Royal-Texas Memorial Stadium would live up to expectations. Widely regarded as one of the premium venues at which to experience college football, DKR–TMS (looks like a stock-exchange listing) gets the benefit of hosting one of the nation’s top programs.

They certainly put on a grand show in pregame ““ with the unveiling of the aforementioned Texas flag, a performance by the marching band and the trotting out of Bevo XIV, the famed Longhorn steer. I’ve been waiting far longer than is healthy for the chance to catch a glimpse of Bevo, one of the country’s best-known college mascots and one of its most revered bovines.

But the legendary ungulate did nothing more than lie in his pen, effectively stomping on my hope of seeing him gallop across the field like the Colorado buffalo. Instead, Bevo XIV looked more like Louis XIV, who was nicknamed the Sun King. I’m afraid that’s all the old steer is good for these days, soaking up the sun rays. I’d grade his performance on Saturday a medium-well. (Too soon?)

Meanwhile, the events on the field began to take their toll on the Texas stadium, which when filled to capacity exceeds the population of three Pac-10 cities (namely, Corvallis, Palo Alto and Pullman). Side note: Clever work by the DKR–TMS crew to install burnt-orange seats that are identical to the color that the majority of fans are wearing. Everything is bigger in Texas, including the exaggerations of how many people are in their stadiums! And when the Longhorns began to struggle late in the third quarter and early in the fourth, their fans began to boo, then file for the exits. Not a great display of loyalty to a program that’s notched double-digit wins each of the last nine seasons.

Accordingly, the atmosphere in Austin isn’t much different from any of the other major-conference road venues that the Bruins have taken to in recent years. The player response to the Austin environment? Less than intimidated.

“Been there, done that,” junior running back Derrick Coleman said after the game. “We’ve played at other places that weren’t much different. Texas is orange, Tennessee was orange ““ it’s the same thing.”

Apparently not even the renowned Longhorn burnt orange is distinctive anymore. So, to recap: We’ve refuted the notion that everything is bigger, we were underwhelmed by their iconic mascot, we exposed their stadium and fans and diminished the significance of their color scheme. I feel like we’ve successfully taken up a stake (steak?) and driven it.

Deep in the Heart of Texas.

If you like messing with Texas, e-mail Eshoff at [email protected].