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Expectation of Excellence by Barbara Wainscott 

My grandson plays football for Klein High School and they made it two games into the playoffs and so concluded the 2017 season. He did very well, especially as a sophomore playing with and against juniors and seniors. But with it, for me, came a flood of memories of all the emotions and feelings that come with the end of a season...the finality of it all...no do-overs...no more chances to right that inconsistency that plagued you all season long. If you came out on top it was great but if not it was more like a punch in the gut. Loyd was consciously aware of the longevity of his college career, or more aptly the lack thereof. Just a few short years to make your mark on history.

For my husband, Longhorn football was like a religion. He lived and breathed it for long after he finished playing it. He went on to play for the Houston Oilers for a couple of years, until he destroyed his knee and then on to play one season for the FIRST Houston Texans of the fleeting WFL league. But when asked where he had played, he always responded the same...The University of Texas. There was power in the words and when he said them people knew, and knew that he meant those words reflected a host of qualities of the highest order. They meant tradition, legacy, quality, integrity, determination and excellence.

For him, one of the most important of those was excellence. Not only was there excellence of achievement but the expectation of excellence. You simply did not accept failure; you planned on success. Which is to say that it didn’t protect you from failing; but you could never fully accept it. It was that atmosphere of expectation of excellence that drove him in college and for the rest of his life.

One time when Texas played Baylor, Loyd had a good game and graded 95%. He went into films feeling pretty full of himself and sat down to an entire film session of the coaches all over him...especially Coach Royal. He ripped him up one side and down the other and Loyd was fuming. He went back to his room and started throwing clothes into a bag, packing to leave. The coaches caught wind of it and came to his room and were scrambling to talk him out of it. They finally slowed him down and convinced him to wait until morning. They told him Coach Royal wanted to talk to him. It took him all night to cool down enough to go in and talk to Coach.

When he walked into Coach Royal’s office the next morning Coach calmly asked, “Do you have a problem?” Loyd was furious and exploded into a rant of how he had done his job and even the coaches had graded him at 95%. Coach said, “You did your job. But did you do your best?” 

Loyd thought for a moment and said no. “Why not?” Coach asked. “Because it was Baylor; and I didn’t have to.” he replied. Coach looked him square in the eye and said, “If you give me 100% every time I’ll make you an All-American” And he did.

Loyd Wainscott’s relationship with Frank Medina  by Barbara Wainscott

Loyd loved Frank but he respected Medina Sessions! Frank decided Loyd gained too much weight his freshman year and when he sent him home for the summer he gave him strict instructions to "not eat anything white". Loyd followed his instructions to the T. When he got back for two-a-days Coach Royal saw him and said "My God! Where did you spend the summer...in a concentration camp?!" and he put him on the scales. He had lost down to 197 lbs. Loyd told him what Frank had instructed and Coach yelled "FRANK!"...as Frank went scurrying around the corner, no where to be found. From then on Frank took Loyd under his wing to bring him back. He would take him into the back room to tape his ankles where there was air conditioning and give him Mama Medina's cookies and milk. He even gave me an interview for the school paper for my journalism requirements and gave me a hand-woven peasant purse from the old country. He had a very special place in Loyd's heart, as I'm sure he did in many a Longhorn player. 

Barbara Wainscott