I love football. 

I love how it’s so “American”, how effort on the field is measurable, and that after each play, whether it was a success or a failure, twenty-two guys get up off the ground and try again. I love how it presents opportunity for the underdog--opportunity for the less talented player with the bigger heart and more courageous spirit to shine. That’s my husband’s story, that’s how he ended up a quarterback at The University of Texas. He wasn’t less talented, but he was smaller in stature than the other players. In fact, on the day his freshmen class of players checked into the athletic dorm, one of his future offensive lineman asked him if he were the team’s manager. But his desire to play, his confidence in his abilities, and his courage in rehabbing two major knee injuries put him right back in the mix.

 

 

My father was a successful and revered Texas high school football coach; both of my brothers and my boyfriend played football for Daddy. The closest I could get to that inner circle was to be a cheerleader, and to learn the game. I listened to Daddy dissect the games late into Friday nights. Through clouds of his cigar smoke, I watched game film in our darkened den with him on Saturday mornings. I grew up hearing high school coaches talk about how Darrell Royal did things the right way. Royal was successful, witty, friendly, and welcoming to those high school coaches, and most of them idolized Darrell Royal.  Later on, I did, too.

 

 

When Edith Royal first met Coach Royal, he was already a big football hero at Hollis High in Oklahoma, and she had never watched a game.  Pretty soon she got the idea from everyone else that he was a pretty big deal, and as long as he was on the field, she just watched whatever he did.  And he did plenty…at Oklahoma University, he was rarely off the field. He was an all-American quarterback. He was the best punter in the country. He was a fierce defensive back and still holds interception records at Oklahoma.  He also holds records for punt returns.  He even held for extra points. 

 

When he started coaching, Edith found she wanted to understand more about the game, but every time she asked a technical question, Coach Royal said, “Edith, just watch the ball.” 

Here’s some advice I gave at a Texas Exes Women’s Football Clinic to ladies who weren’t well-versed in football:

 It’s not necessary that you understand defensive schemes or the spread offense, but you will pick up a lot if you just watch the ball. It will also go a long way toward impressing your football-savvy friends if you learn just a few key phrases:

 

If the ref throws a flag in the vicinity of the defensive/offensive lines, you’ll be safe to mutter, as if to yourself, “must be holding.  He’s been holding the whole game.”  Doesn’t matter who “he” is.

 

If the Horns are called for defensive pass interference, you say “That’s ridiculous.  Was that thing even catchable?”

 

If a flag is thrown just as the play starts, you’d be safe to say, “Was he moving?”  That can usually cover a lineman who’s offsides, or a back who starts moving before the ball is snapped.

 

Some things in football are inexplicable…like, how is it that every coach in the country speaks in the same way…”so-and-so gives 110%”, “we need to get our swagger back”, “we’re ready to take it to the next level”, “they just wanted it more than we did?”

 

Or like these guys who are so macho off the field, then they put on a football uniform and suddenly they’re patting one another on the behind, or holding hands in the huddle.  Don’t ask…don’t even act as if you notice.

 

I’ve written three books about the Longhorns. The first was What It Means to be a Longhorn, where Bill Little and I interviewed former Texas players.  It was an honor to interview these men and see them wipe away tears as they recounted special moments with their coaches and teammates.  These men who played at Texas belong to a unique fraternity…Keith Moreland’s description is one of my favorites:

 

“Those are the things you remember, because when you’re in two-a-days and the AstroTurf gets to 115-120 degrees, you really get to know the courage that human beings have, to be able to put up with all that and go through what you have to go through to play. In those days, trainer Frank Medina gave no water breaks. The only thing we had was a frozen slice orange.  Boy, that orange looked pretty good most days.”

 

I wrote a book called 100 Things Longhorn Fans Should know and Do before They Die, in which I got to brag on The University and our state, and I got paid to make fun of the Aggies.  Does life get any better? 

 

Edith Royal and I collaborated on DKR:  The Royal Scrapbook, a book about their lives inside of football and out, about the tremendous impact those two have had on The University, this football program, (he resurrected the program from a 1-9 season, the worst in school history), country and western music (The Texas Heritage Songwriters’ Association gives the “DKR Texas Music Legend Award” recognizing his tireless promotion of Texas songwriters), drug and alcohol recovery (Edith was a founding member of Austin’s Palmer Drug Abuse Program, and the Royals led countless people to sobriety).  For several decades, they were THE face of college football for the entire nation.  Now, he got most of the recognition, while she stayed behind and took care of the rest. And if you don’t know about the life of this extraordinary couple, well, I’ve got this book for sale….

Let me give you a glimpse into the life of a coach’s wife:

Royal accepted his first head coaching job at El Reno High School in February, 1950.  From that time, until he accepted the coaching job at Texas in late 1956, Darrell Royal had eight jobs, and with each new job, Edith was left to pack, move, corrall the kids, drive across the country, unpack, smile, get the kids enrolled in school, set up house, meet the faculty, assimilate into the new community.  From El Reno to North Carolina State to Tulsa to Mississippi State to Edmonton back to Mississippi State to University of Washington.  And finally, to Texas.  On the family’s cross-country car trips, Edith encouraged the children to look up from their comic books and notice the beauty outside their car.  “Look, kids!  Look out your windows at this country.  We might not ever come this way again.”  They moved so much and she said it so often, it became a family joke. 

 

When they arrived in Austin, the Coach set to work immediately.  He immersed himself completely in the burnt-orange community.  “Goodness knows how many March 2 (Texas Independence Day) meetings I went to.” He spoke at high school banquets, visited with current players, faculty members, and high school coaches all over the state.  He traveled to track meets all over the state Texas searching for athletes with speed.

 Mondays brought another week of practices, press conferences, recruiting calls, and Longhorn Booster Club appearances.  During the week, the coaches broke down film, assessing the strengths and tendencies of their opponents. They reviewed film to evaluate their own players.

After postgame press conferences at the stadium, he and Edith, UT Staffers, sportswriters, and friends gathered at suite 2001 at the Villa Capri for an informal review of the game.  On Sundays, it was church, then Darrell was off to tape his television show at KLBJ. Sunday afternoons were for watching more film and planning. 

 “…and the hours he spent watching film,” Edith said. “He’d get up and study film in the middle of the night. I’d wake up at 2:00 a m and he’d be in there, breaking down the film play by play and making notes. When things got bad, when he was so tense and focused on football that he couldn’t see anything else, I just left him alone, let him have his space. He talked to people on the phone all night.  He just did whatever he needed to do, and we let him do it at our house.  I did anything that he needed me to do to support him. The children did too,  They just adapted, although I know they wanted more of his attention.” 

 

Although Edith was the one handling “everything else,” she says: “There was nothing to complain about. I was as excited as he was about football season and about their success.  I felt very much a part of things, like a teammate.  I knew my job was important, and he knew it, too.  My job was to take care of everything else - everything - so he could do his job. He didn’t have to worry about anything at home or me or the kids, because he knew I was taking care of it. I was the worrier of the two. The only thing that worried him was losing football games.”  

Mack Royal, the Royal’s middle child, credits his mom with trying to maintain a semblance of normality at home.  He remembers, “We really were a happy family. We kids were disciplined and well-mannered. We knew that when Dad was on the phone at home, we were to quiet down. When it was time to move to another town, we moved without complaint.  Mom did all that. She made us all feel we were an important part of Dad’s team. We were happy, and a lot of the credit for that goes to Mom.” 

Bear Bryant, a darned good coach himself and a dear friend of the Royals, said this: “There must be a special place in heaven for coaches’ wives.” And that is so true.