COLUMN: Bad referees lead to a shifting of priorities

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by Ben Glassman

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This was a sensation I had not felt since my last trip to see the Ohio State Buckeyes play in Columbus.

Perhaps it was simply a question of volume: There were literally tens of thousands of people teeming all over the University of Texas campus, progressing in slow but swarming waves to Memorial Stadium.

Or maybe it was the color: bright sun illuminating the crisp, clear day and highlighting the hideous burnt orange which adorned in some fashion -- shirt, shorts or hat -- virtually every person there. Certainly, it had something to do with the quite perceptible vibes I was receiving from these people.

Their snide smiles or belligerent antagonisms in no way masked their certainty that revenge was about to be exacted by the mighty on the weak. I politely tipped my Owls ballcap and thrust out my chest to display with pride my Rice-emblazoned T-shirt.

The 18-point spread and Rice's performances in the past three games made me suspect that the Texas partisans would not be disappointed, but the weather was too primed for a good game to allow me to give up hope before the contest even began.

As I entered the stadium, it was obvious that this big-time football game was in fact a very different phenomenon than that experienced at Rice.

On my way to my seat, I was able to watch the kickoff on televisions all around the parcours, and I thought about at which of the brand-name restaurants within the stadium walls I would eat lunch.

Finally, I reached the entrance for Section 31 and walked down the corridor behind several people wearing reassuring "Tuck Fexas" T-shirts.

But any reassurance the familiar T-shirts gave me disappeared when I left the corridor and saw the field.

The sun blinded me for a second, and when I regained my sight, it was only to see a staggering sea of orange dots roaring with the collective voice of over 60,000 Longhorns. So I fixed on a game face and was finally ready for a battle.

The seats were ridiculous, behind the shot-put part of the track -- why do the opposing team's fans always get to sit on the 50-yard line at Rice? -- but I was close enough to hear helmets crack.

Down only three points in the early going, I marveled as Rice marched down the field, alternating run and pass, keeping the Texas defense off-balance and converting all the critical plays.

As the first half progressed, I realized that I was watching the finest performance of Josh LaRocca's career to date. More than once, it was third and long, and LaRocca dropped back to pass.

Looking off his primary and secondary receivers, he surveyed the field as his blocking began to collapse. Offensive lineman began to fall, and mammoth defensive ends closed on him, their sights set on crushing our quarterback.

Impossibly, he hung in the pocket and delivered a smart pass -- one time over the middle, another time to a wideout coming back on the far side -- just a fraction of a second before the hit came. First down. And I started to hope for the unlikely.

But then the second half came, and as we all know, Rice slowly but surely folded, then broke under fatigue, turnover mistakes, a relentless Texas attack and poor officiating.

I'm not the first to remark on this last subject, but perhaps someone ought to send this letter to the appropriate address:

Dear Southwest Conference Referees,

You are not in the Big Twelve yet. Your officiating is so biased it would be comical if it weren't so frustrating.

These guys have a lot of audacity to call roughing the kicker and phantom personal fouls against us after the way they mistreated us in the SWC semifinals of basketball last year.

But the officiating was only one aspect of the demoralizing second-half collapse. While its fans were reduced to grabbing Texas students and seething, "We beat you last year, so don't laugh, dammit!" (my friend actually did this), Rice eventually lowered itself to spitefully calling timeout with three seconds left so that, down 21 points, Chad Nelson could run another option play. Why?

I realized during the timeout that six games remained this season and that we would need five wins to hope for a bowl bid.

As Nelson was buried under second-stringers, I remembered that although we can afford one more loss, three of the games yet to come are against Baylor University, Texas Tech University and Texas A&M University. And I knew that football was through for 1995.

I hung my head only momentarily, though. Instead of thinking about Tucker Phillips shanking a punt out of bounds, I concentrated on Sammy Waldron breaking the SWC record for career kills. I thought about the transfer of imaginary points -- USA Today /Coaches votes for Rice football somehow transforming into the first points volleyball has ever received in the national rankings.

Basketball can start practice on Sunday.

This item appeared in the Sports section of the October 13, 1995 issue.

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