Number Eleven, And What Might Have Been

By Larry Carlson

Larry Carlson has followed the Longhorns since seeing his first orange tower in 1960.  He hosted the Longhorn Locker Room Show on Austin's KVET Radio and was later a co-host of Longhorn Pipeline on San Antonio's ESPN Radio affiliate.  Larry just retired after 35 years of teaching broadcast journalism at Texas State University and lives in San Antonio with his wife.

Write to him at lc13@txstate.edu

Football has always been a game of inches. A deep throw that just missed, a fourth-and-one made or lost by a fingernail. An attempted field goal gone awry, nicked by a desperate hand. Each season has make-or-break moments for almost every team. Coaches fired and hired, teams re-wired. Texas Longhorn fans can go back through the musty files and ponder what might have been in 1961, 1964, 1977, 1983, 2008 and 2009 just to put the microscope to several inches that spilled all the marbles.

Maybe the 2020 UT season seemed just like the latest ugly link in the now eleven-year chain of broken dreams. Yep, another sack of busted eggs to stink up the trash can. But instead of "re-imagining" your local police force or tossing out the power grid for a solar-powered future in soggy Seattle, re-imagine something else.

October begins with Texas beating TCU on a late Keaontay Ingram TD.

The Horns roll past OU in Dallas. A benched quarterback, Spencer Rattler, enters the transfer portal. Clicking on all long balls, Sam Ehlinger is hailed, along with Bama's Mac Jones, as a Heisman hopeful and Big Daddy of the Bomb. The Longhorns beat Iowa State in Austin. Sam heads to the sidelines after one second-half series versus the Kansas Jayhawks, responsible for six TDs rushing and passing. Backup QB Casey Thompson then puts his stamp on four more more touchdowns before Hudson Card settles for just one in a 77-0 verdict. Burnt orange jerseys with number 11 are more in demand than Clorox.

Mike Yurcich wins the Broyles Award as the nation's top assistant coach. The Big XII title game isn't even close but Iowa State coach Matt Campbell takes consolation in being hired to head the Auburn program. Ehlinger finishes second to DeVonta Smith in Heisman balloting, and Mel Kiper, Jr says Slingin' SamBam can be the first hybrid situational QB/H-Back and is coveted by Kansas City as a complement to Patrick Mahomes. Can Texas win its first national title since '05?

But the reality is this. Texas lost three games by 12 points. They could've and should've won them all when you assess the final moments. Sam Ehlinger led the nation in TD passes after three games, with 14. It all might well have gone differently. It doesn't take much to ruin a damned good Texas pecan pie.

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Every Longhorn believer knows that Sam Ehlinger first threw the Hook 'em Horns up in the hospital delivery room. Already built like a centaur, he led the other newborn babes in the nursery to a rousing pick-up game victory over the doctors the day he was born

Then he grew up at the intersection of Bobby La(y)ne and James Street. His own head coach at Texas said he bleeds burnt orange.

So there were likely some sentimental tears when Ehlinger announced the end of his Longhorn playing days via a stirring but wistful video. He signaled to Longhorn Nation that, for all of us, there's a time to build up, a time to break down, a time to gain, a time to lose. He made his latest bold move on a Sunday. Foreshadowing, Billy Shakespeare might say.

For Longhorn fans of a certain age, hoping that Sam would again don the burnt orange was relatable to as wishing and hoping -- 23 years ago -- that Ricky Williams would come back for his senior year at Texas. That one turned out pretty well.

Sam, a four-year starter, was reportedly studying the option of saddling up for an unprecedented fifth season as QB1 for the Steers. Many followers, knowing of the NCAA's once-in-a-lifetime (let's hope) "free" year because of a pandemic, had longed for a fifth season of Slam Bam Super Sam, the popular reality show based out of DKR since 2017. After all, as the Horns approached the Alamo Bowl game, nobody else on the squad had taken even one meaningful snap at quarterback. But when Casey Thompson stepped in for an injured Ehlinger and re-wrote UT bowl game passing records (four TDs on 8-10 attempts for 170 yards) in about 20 minutes of action, it allowed anxious Horn backers to exhale about the '21 season and perhaps beyond.

Maybe Casey's at-bat even played a part in Sam's decision, though that is unlikely, considering he announced his NFL intentions without acknowledging even conferring with Sarkisian, widely known to be more than just a tad effective in developing Saturday passers for Sunday employment.

Through the past four years and especially during the strangest, wooziest college football season ever, Ehlinger was the face of the Texas Longhorns. First, he represented hope. Looking precociously cool and delivering Hemingwayesque grace under pressure as a 17-year-old against USC four autumns ago, Ehlinger flashed talent and moxie that Horn fans hadn't seen since Colt McCoy ruled The Forty Acres.

But amid the swashbuckling heroics against the formidable Trojans, there was foreshadowing of stomach-churning overtime periods, soaring zeniths and ultimately, disappointing scoreboards that would too often drop the curtains on Sam as somewhat a tragic figure. The electric USC game ended in a loss after a fumble by Sam in a tight scrum near the goal line. Other signs of freshman growing pains were painfully played out in game-ending losses to Oklahoma State (in OT) and Texas Tech.

But Ehlinger's sophomore season of 2019 showcased a hugely improved young quarterback, still with confidence and feats of derring-do but now with a decision-making maturity and accuracy that was unforeseeable a season earlier. There was a dizzying victory over arch-rival Oklahoma, topped off by Okie QB Kyler Murray dissing Sam's extended handshake. The Heisman apparently doesn't check boxes for sportsmanship.

Texas still lost four games, including a December rematch that enabled arch-rival OU to tarnish the coveted Golden Hat won two months earlier. But there was a late-season six-game win streak and a gangbusters Sugar Bowl win over favored, much-hyped Georgia.

Hoisting the trophy and MVP status in New Orleans prompted a smiling sophomore to proclaim -- prematurely as it has turned out -- that Texas was "ba-a--a-ck." That two seconds of youthful chestiness brought an albatross that sports media and rival fans hung on Ehlinger every time his team collected a loss -- eight times -- in the ensuing two seasons.

After Texas fell last October to TCU then Oklahoma , and we'll get back to that one, sports media pundits in the Lone Star State spent ample time analyzing Ehlinger's standing among the all-time list of quarterbacks at UT. It's long been obvious to observers from press boxes and sidelines, big screens and bar stools that Sam was a special leader, a la Street and Layne. Now his ranking alongside those two plus Vince Young, Colt McCoy, Marty Akins, Major Applewhite and others has been re-hashed and warmed over countless times in recent months.

Everyone seemingly has an opinion. Ehlinger ranks behind only McCoy in most passing stats in the Longhorn record book. But can we honestly judge a player from today's offenses against those from as recently as barely a decade ago or from three-quarters of a century ago? Some observers quickly discount Ehlinger's "Rushmore" potential because of a modest 27-16 record and for not ringing up even one conference championship.

That stat is worth noting. But football, it should be remembered, is the ultimate team game. Texas, like most places, has had fine quarterbacks seemingly wasted on mediocre teams. And excellent teams have utilized "game manager" QBs with no discernible star power but plenty of wins. Comparing quarterbacks from one era to another is hardly an "apples to apples" study.

Where Sam Ehlinger comes up as incomparable among the legendary quarterbacks at Texas wasn't seen on game films. Yep, he was a heckuva passer, runner, scholar, and citizen -- and tougher than a cheap, cheap steak -- but he dealt with a revolving door of assistant coaches and coordinators, played behind the "protection" of mostly nondescript offensive lines and then had to face up to that little phrase we're all so weary of: unprecedented times.

In 1918 a Texas football player died from the Spanish Flu Pandemic.

It wasn't just Covid and the hardships, challenges and adjustments brought to all college players who bought in last March when reality first began to strike. Ehlinger, as a team leader and face of the franchise, as it were, was placed in a tightwire act of working amid national cries for racial justice and then the public issues surrounding sudden controversy -- after 117 years -- of the best-known school song in all of college football.

Ehlinger, as captain of the ship, never lost the locker room, it would appear. A reluctant hero to legions of Longhorn backers, Sam became a symbol of the strangest season ever. It happened on the day in October when, cliched as it might sound, Ehlinger essentially "willed" his team back into a tie with Oklahoma and an overtime lead. Millions watched at home as Ehlinger waged what at times seemed like a one-man war against OU. Despite the heroics, it didn't end with a W.

Shortly after the Sooners clinched the wild win, came Sam Ehlinger's Hollywood casting as Gary Cooper in "High Noon." The widespread post-game image seen by Texans and Americans everywhere was one worthy of "AP Photo of the Year" status. To some, Ehlinger was Cooper's steely sheriff, abandoned by cowardly cohorts to protect the townfolk and the sanctity of "The Eyes of Texas." While it appeared that the rest of the Longhorn squad had retreated quickly to the locker room, a somber Sam, bruised and battered but not beaten, stood by himself on the Cotton Bowl floor. His Horns were up, as fellow students in a hollow, haunted Cotton Bowl stadium sang "The Eyes" without accompaniment from the musical group formerly known as "The Showband of the Southwest."

Days later, questioned by reporters, Ehlinger characterized the post-game scene as "a misunderstanding." But it registered clearly enough to many backers that the guy most responsible for almost conjuring a miracle win had been the only Longhorn player to show respect for fans and traditions of the university he represented.

Six weeks later, after the Horns were eliminated from Big XII title contention by Iowa State, Ehlinger was again the last man standing. One team captain, Sam Cosmi, opted out with three games remaining on the schedule, dedicating himself to NFL combine preparations. A rousing rout of Kansas State knocked another captain, Derek Kerstetter, out with an injury. Then four more captains decided the Alamo Bowl wasn't worth risking injury to play in. Ehlinger, with Kerstetter sidelined, would be the only one of seven captains to suit up in San Antonio. Pundits and more than a few Longhorn fans wondered aloud if many college captains took their titles and duties seriously any longer. And whether "opting out" was just a Covid-year euphemism for quitting.

You know the rest. Maybe the opt-out guys were savvy about risking injury. Nobody but Sam knew his throwing shoulder was sprained when he and the Horns trotted to the locker room with a 14-7 halftime lead. Forty minutes later, Ehlinger was back with his teammates but on the sidelines, mummified by a sling and jacket. Even in victory, Ehlinger looked to be somewhat the star-crossed hero as his old offense, suddenly sparked by Casey Thompson and the magical Bijan Robinson, rolled to an easy win.

During post-game celebration ceremonies, Ehlinger heard his head coach, almost dewy-eyed, search for words to explain how much the four-year starter meant to him and Longhorn Nation. But would there be another bright night, another season, more records and maybe a championship for Sam and his returning mates?

Three days later, Coach Tom Herman was fired. Later that day, Steve Sarkisian was named Herman's successor. Not even 24 hours passed before Ehlinger delivered his intentions to move on to preparing for the National Football League. No tutelage under Sark, no more full-houses at DKR to wash away the emptiness of the oxymoronic term of "Covid crowds," no shot at perhaps beating OU two more times. Would Sarkisian have been able to mold magic with the considerable offensive firepower brought by Ehlinger, Bijan, Jordan Whittington, Jake Smith, Roschon Johnson and Joshua Moore?

We'll never know.

Sam Ehlinger weighed his options and elected to make changes now, not later. His departure from Longhorn football for the prospects of professional football made me think, as I so often do, if there was a good match for the turning of the page. I quickly thought of the venerable song, "Turn! Turn! Turn!" as recorded by the Byrds, card-carrying members of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. If you know your oldies, you know some of the lyrics, all timeless reminders that seem keenly appropriate as we shed the past calendar year and move on. The song reminds us that change has always been a constant, that history is cyclical and that periods of dire unrest are but temporary.

"To everything there is a season, and there is a time to every purpose under heaven," go some of the words from songwriter Pete Seeger. And if you don't know those from folk or classic rock, maybe you recognize them from the Old Testament. Ecclesiastes never defended the out route or relished a burnt orange UT tower but certainly grasped the necessity of going forward. For Sam Ehlinger, Steve Sarkisian and Longhorn Nation, the time for big new change is nigh.

Write to Larry Carlson at lc13@txstate.edu