NUMBER 30 WAS NUMBER ONE

by Larry Carlson ( lc13@txstate.edu )

My niece, Kim, still calls me "Uncle Woo," even though she has passed the 39-year mark.

It's because her mom, my oldest sister, Karen, called me "Woo" for almost fifty years, until she passed away this very week in 2017. Her reason? I talked about and celebrated Steve Worster incessantly when I was one of his legions of superfans while in high school. I'm pretty sure that Karen, once she started back then, never again called me by my given name. It was always just "Woo."

Worster reigned supreme as the best fullback in college football (1968-70) and was my idol. I mean, the guy powered over every defense he faced. He was coolly all business on the field. And the UT co-eds seemed to love him.

Even Darrell Royal seemed to bend with the times when he was asked in 1970 about Worster and his Texas teammates being allowed to grow their hair a tad bit and sport sideburns. "I think Steve looks handsome," DKR shrugged.

Worster was the biggest star on a team with a Milky Way full of them. I had a poster of him on my burnt orange bedroom wall. And I really wanted another cool one that Dave Campbell's Texas Football was offering for sale, the one that featured a sideline close-up of the rugged fullback's face, marked by dried blood across the bridge of his nose.

Yep, Steve Worster was my favorite Longhorn player when I was a hero-worshipping high schooler. I still don't think there's ever been a better tough yardage bruiser at UT. If you want a Rushmore of those guys, I'll place Woo in there with Earl Campbell, Roosevelt Leaks and Cedric Benson, with Ricky Williams in a slightly different category because of the breakaway speed that he also displayed so often.

Many Longhorn followers too young to have seen Worster play, would eye his statistics and perhaps dismiss that assessment. His yardage totals seem unremarkable among the ones rung up since he left. That is largely because the wishbone teams Worster starred on were so very dominant that he seldom had more than five carries in a second half. Texas was blowing teams out about eighty percent of the time back then. The starters often played the opening series of a second half, then sat while the second and third teams continued to roll over the opposition. Darrell Royal never poured it on any team, never played to earn a Heisman Trophy for one of his stars. When Texas needed Worster most, in the ballyhooed matchups with Arkansas, OU and Notre Dame, he was keyed on with every snap of the ball and still delivered. If you believe that the Irish stopped him when they ended UT's 30-game winning streak on January 1, 1971, understand that he had torn up Notre Dame for more than 150 yards the previous year, earning the Offensive MVP award. But he was so eroded by injuries in the rematch that DKR often said later that he regretted playing Woo in that one. Steve had toiled before when he should not have -- in the regular season finale against Arkansas -- and rumbled for 121 yards and two touchdowns.

Worster, it should be remembered, is sometimes acknowledged as college football's first "national recruit."

Every school wanted him and every coach, it seemed, found little Bridge City, in bayou country near Orange, the Sabine River and the Louisiana border. It was well documented that Worster received more than 80 scholarship offers. He narrowed the field to LSU, Houston and UT before choosing to play for Texas.

Once he strode onto the Forty Acres, Worster lived up to the hype and exceeded it. As ringleader of the immortal "Worster Bunch" recruiting class of 1967, there had to be pressure. He made believers of everyone in just his fourth game, blasting through the OU line and dragging Sooners as Texas came from behind to win, 26-20. Worster scored the game-winner from seven yards out, with 39 ticks remaining.

One written account recalled that Worster banged off three separate OU players before carrying two more across the goal. He had arrived and Texas had won a big one, with 28 more to go in Steve's career.

Three seasons, three Southwest Conference titles and two national championships. A three-time All-SWC choice, Worster was a two-time consensus All-American. Texas hasn't retired his number 30 and won't. But it should have, long ago. The retroactive "qualifier" about winning a Heisman or being named Player of the Year could use some tweaking. But that's another story.

I got to meet Worster in 2008 in Waco, a few hours before he was inducted into the Texas Sports Hall of Fame. I had driven up with my buddy Kirk Bohls of the Austin American-Statesman. He had lobbied the selection committee that spring to induct Mighty Woo. Knowing what an ardent Worster fan I had been, Kirk had asked me for a catchy summation to use on any doubters on that committee. Registering my amazement that Worster was still an outsider, I told Kirk to use this one: The Texas Sports Hall of Fame without Steve Worster would be like the Rock 'n 'Roll Hall of Fame without Elvis.

It's doubtful that any coercing was needed but it's still crazy it took to so long for the TSHOF to act. At any rate, when Kirk and I arrived early, we had Worster to ourselves. Steve was by himself, quietly looking at some of the Hall's displays.

We ended up chatting with him for forty minutes. He was modest, friendly and easy to talk to. We found out he was not far removed from having to live out of his car because of the devastation of his Bridge City home, due to Hurricane Rita. Steve expressed gratitude for the support and encouragement he received from Longhorn teammates.

We peppered him with dozens of questions. Worster confirmed that, yes, Arkansas players were pure class, a mirror image of their fellow Southern gentlemen on the UT side. And he said that Notre Dame players were a dirty-playing band of scoundrels. He shook his head in mild disgust about a "reunion" with Joe Theismann when they had been inducted together into the Cotton Bowl Hall of Fame. "He's a jerk," Steve said, smiling wryly. "He still kept mispronouncing my name as Worst-er....I just called him Theez-man."

And Worster certified that Gov. John McKeithen of Louisiana and his entourage had indeed entertained the Bridge City schoolboy on an LSU recruiting trip. At the Governor's Mansion in Baton Rouge, no less.

Worster seemed especially pleased by one particular bit of trivia I referenced. Some observers back in the day had claimed that Worster lacked good speed. One national writer expressed admiration for the fullback's toughness and overall ability but said he resembled a gorilla in flight, one hand scratching a knee as he lumbered forward. But I had long recalled an obscure play that seemed to de-bunk that charge. Texas was up 21-0 early on TCU (en route to a 69-7 knockout), when the Frogs' dangerous speedster, Linzy Cole, took off with a punt and began streaking untouched down the sidelines. Worster, on punt coverage, crossed the field at an angle and was the last man still chasing Cole. My Dad and I had been fired up that Worster never gave in. He at last nailed the sprinter at the one-yard-line, sending both tumbling into the endzone. Cole had scored but he did not go in standing up on the 65-yard return. It was something that forever stuck with me and I was glad I mentioned it.

After the Hall of Fame banquet plates had been cleared that evening in Waco, the handful of honorees made their acceptance speeches. Most were of the ten-minute variety. Worster's UT teammate, Super Bill Bradley, regaled the crowd with hilarious tales for twice that long. Worster? He thanked family members, teammates and coaches from high school and UT, then bowed out after three minutes or less.

I've talked to more than a few of Worster's Texas teammates over the years. Their thoughts about him reflect universal love, respect and admiration for their friend and brother. He was a no-nonsense competitor at work and a personable guy at play. Very good at both.

A few years back, I asked Ted Koy to share a brief description of how he saw his 1969 backfield mates, off the field. Koy spoke of Street's outgoing personality and confidence, then smiled about the laconic Bertelsen, a man of deeds but precious few words. When I asked about Worster, Ted paused a little. "Steve worked hard and he also liked the nightlife," Koy said, expressionless. "And he managed it all very well."

Earlier this summer while chatting with Billy Dale, Steve's old friend and roomie for home and road games, I brought up the subject of Steve Worster. Billy, who was Steve's guest when Woo was inducted into the Cotton Bowl HOF along with a certain former Notre Damer, could laugh now about an instance in which Coach Royal had perceived a lack of intensity among the backfield corps. What ensued was a set of drills that called on halfbacks and fullbacks to catch short passes and -- with no blockers involved -- essentially get mauled by full-speed linebackers. Dale said the mismatches -- against the likes of Scott Henderson -- were nothing short of brutal.

After the bludgeoning went on for a while, Steve decided he'd had enough.

"I'm not doing anymore of this bull$#*t," Billy said Worster uttered as he began to walk away.

"Steve was the only smart one of us," Billy chuckled.

Darrell Royal, too, was quite smart.

He knew when to re-think an idea. The "sitting duck" drill soon ended.

DKR, who always showed an unabashed appreciation of Worster, once saluted him with this:

"Nobody at Texas, with the exception of Tommy Nobis, ever played his position as well as Steve did."

Nobis ain't bad company. And he's on your team up there. Godspeed, Steve. Hook 'em.