A Midwest Mystery : The Nebraska Football Program Has a High Profile, but Its Coach Manages to Remain an Enigma to Many

The joke was that you needed a passport to enter Nebraska’s campus on football Saturdays. It was quaint. It was foreign. It was so . . . Midwestern. A real beam-me-up-Scotty experience if you were making your first visit.

Memorial Stadium became it’s own sovereign nation on those days. Swelled to capacity with thousands of polite, red-clad, Cornhusker-crazed followers, the place had a certain bizarre innocence to it. Fans, some of whom have been known to order Husker helmet logos for their tombstones, devote entire rooms to Big Red shrines and pray at a certain part of the stadium, actually cheered the opposing team at game’s end. Still do.

But the 20th Century has slowly caught up with the little Cornhusker kingdom and with the man who oversees it, the quiet, religious and shy--some say aloof--Tom Osborne.

During his 19-season tenure, Osborne has become the winningest active Division I-A coach (186-43-3, an .808 percentage) and 10th on the all-time percentage list, ahead of the legendary Bear Bryant, Bo Schembechler, Darrell Royal, John Heisman and about anybody else you can think of. His teams have never earned fewer than nine victories in a season and have never lost to an opponent with a losing record.

“I view him right at the top,” said Florida State Coach Bobby Bowden, whose .737 winning percentage gives him the right to critique. “I don’t know who the top three or four (coaches) are, but he would be one of them. I don’t think Tom’s greatness will show until he dies, and we aren’t in a hurry about that. He’ll get greater and greater after he’s gone.”

Turner Gill, a former Cornhusker quarterback who is now an assistant coach on Osborne’s staff, is even more direct in his admiration: “From my standpoint, he’s one of the greatest human beings to live on this earth.”

So Osborne, 55, has won games and admirers. He has also made enemies, failed to win a national championship and endured controversies, the list of which seems to grow each year.

The latest incident involves an ill-fated power struggle between Osborne supporters and Nebraska Chancellor Graham B. Spanier over the successor to longtime Athletic Director Bob Devaney. Spanier won, Osborne lost.

Before that, there was a brawl involving some Cornhusker football and baseball players.

Before that, there was sophomore tight end Johnny Mitchell’s defection to the NFL draft.

Before that, there was a January tragedy involving a then-undiagnosed mentally ill Nebraska running back who brutally beat a Lincoln woman.

Before that, there was an eligibility embarrassment resulting in a player’s dismissal on the eve of the most recent Orange Bowl.

Before that, there were serious job offers to Osborne from at least 10 other schools and two NFL franchises.

And before that, long before that, there were revelations of a ticket scandal, the suicide of tight end Brian Hiemer and charges of rampant steroid use among some of Nebraska’s players.

Of course, Osborne isn’t the first coach whose program has been tested by untoward events, nor will he be the last. In the last month alone, such respected coaches as Bowden, Penn State’s Joe Paterno, Miami’s Dennis Erickson and Notre Dame’s Lou Holtz have had to deal with player-related problems involving NCAA inquiries, criminal charges and federal probes.

“That’s just something that’s happening everywhere,” Bowden said. “But with (Nebraska), you wonder how could this possibly happen in the Midwest, where everyone’s sweet and a farmer?”

Or said a top-20 coach who requested anonymity: “It’s almost like it’s a mixed bag (at Nebraska). He wants the right thing--he’s like Joe Paterno that way--but yet (he has) these goofy things happen to him. What the reasons are, I really don’t know. I personally think he’s genuinely interested in what’s right, in doing things for the right reasons. But he’s almost a bit of an enigma.”

Speaking of goofy, now there are whispers that Osborne might not end his career as a Cornhusker, that he was disappointed with Spanier’s decision to choose an outsider as athletic director, that he will coach several more years, then pursue an athletic director’s position elsewhere.

Others suggest that athletic director-elect Bill Byrne, a fund-raising expert who signed a three-year contract, will somehow be shoved aside when Osborne decides to retire from coaching. Fat chance--especially since Byrne, who did wonders as Oregon’s athletic director, told reporters at his introductory news conference that he had no plans “other than living in Lincoln, Neb., for the rest of my life.”

Osborne had hoped to do the same thing, but now sends out mixed signals on his future.

“I’d like to coach a few more years and if I could, before I was in a nursing home, do something other than coach,” he said. “There will be a time when I will not be here. That’s OK. That happens to a lot of people.”

But later he spoke of his commitment to the players he had recruited and of his reluctance to start a career elsewhere.

“I have no immediate plans to leave,” he said, without explaining what could alter those plans.

Osborne didn’t build Nebraska’s program, he maintained it like a fine mechanic. Devaney did most of the initial work and retired from coaching in 1972 with a 101 victories in 11 seasons, six Big Eight Conference titles and two national championships. That done, he chose an intense, thoughtful Cornhusker assistant named Thomas W. Osborne as his successor.

“Probably the smartest move I ever made,” said Devaney, who is leaving his position against his will. “I think he’s the best football coach in the country and has been for some time.”

Osborne isn’t as homespun as Bowden, as revered as Paterno, as entertaining as Holtz or as beloved as Devaney. Ask him what he does during the off-season and he says fishing.

“I really enjoy a little solitude,” he said.

Ask him what he thinks about while sitting by himself in the boat.

“I tend to think about catching fish,” he said.

Devaney maintains that Osborne has one of the best football minds in the business and credits him in large part for the Cornhuskers’ 1970 national championship. If Osborne had not persuaded him to switch his offense from an unbalanced line formation to a balanced-I attack the year before, who knows what would have happened, Devaney said.

Critics say Osborne’s record is bloated by too many victories against lightweights and not enough against quality opponents. In this there is some truth. Since 1985, the Cornhuskers are 6-13 vs. top-10 teams and 1-6 in bowl games. “We’ve all gone through that,” Washington Coach Don James said. “They say you can’t win the big one, the game against the rival, the bowl game. Hey, he’s won a lot of big ones. They’re tough. They’ve always been tough.”

Tough, but not tough enough. Osborne’s Cornhuskers were in the hunt for a national championship in 1990, but the team staggered down the stretch. In 1989 they had a chance, but lost to Colorado late in the year. Before the second-to-last game of the 1987 season, they were ranked No. 1, then lost to No. 2 Oklahoma. Defeats by Oklahoma in 1984 and again in 1985 ended other opportunities.

But no defeat causes a Cornhusker fan to see red more than the 1984 Orange Bowl loss to Miami. Or as Devaney refers to it, “That damn Orange Bowl.”

Rather than go for a tie, which would have ensured Nebraska of a national title, Osborne went for the victory in the closing moments of the game. Gill’s two-point conversion pass was tipped out of running back Jeff Smith’s hands, giving Miami the victory and the championship.

“I can remember that like yesterday,” said Charlie McBride, Nebraska’s defensive coordinator. “(The coaches) were all hooked up on the earphones and he didn’t hesitate. He said, ‘We want to go for two, don’t we?’ Well, there wasn’t one guy who didn’t think we weren’t going for two. We were going for a national championship.”

Actually, Osborne’s decision might have earned him more national admirers than detractors. Rather than play it safe, the ultra-competitive Osborne tried to earn the championship outright, rather than depend on the poll voters.

Osborne has never been afraid of taking a chance. The 1955 Nebraska high school player of the year, Osborne could have played major college football, but chose to remain in his hometown, Hastings, Neb., and attend Hastings College. After a brief NFL career, he returned to Nebraska in 1962 and requested a meeting with Devaney, who had recently been hired to revive the Cornhusker program.

“He came in, this tall, redheaded guy and said he’d like to be a coach,” Devaney said.

Devaney hired him as a graduate assistant in charge of nothing. Osborne received no salary, but he was allowed to eat at the team training table with the rest of the staff and players. Five years later, he was a full-time coach, and in 1972 he became Devaney’s successor.

Osborne asked for only one thing when he was hired as head man, a five-year contract. Such a long-term deal would make it harder for him to be fired and also allow him enough time to develop his own coaching style. Devaney approved the request.

Twenty seasons later, here he is, still coaching and still a bit of a mystery.

“With Coach Osborne, what you see is what you get,” tight end William Washington said.

But what sort of view does Osborne allow? Glimpses, really.

“I don’t know if he wants everyone on the outside to see it,” Gill said.

By now, everyone knows Osborne doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t usually say anything worse than dadgummit. He watches his diet. He goes to church. He cherishes his family. Face it, there isn’t a vice to be found.

Nor is he a social butterfly. The annual team barbecue at his house is probably done more out of obligation than anything else. Osborne wouldn’t know how to work an alumni crowd if you handed him printed instructions.

“I’m kind of a private person for the most part,” he said.

It shows. If Osborne disciplines or praises a player, he usually does so away from the rest of the team. If faced with controversy, he usually answers questions in measured, well thought-out responses. If faced with a personal crisis--as he was in 1985 when he underwent double-bypass heart surgery--he adapts. Doctors ordered him to change his diet after the surgery and Osborne hasn’t wavered since.

If betrayed, Osborne spares little time handing out swift punishment.

“He has a simple rule,” McBride said. “If you cheat, you’re fired. If you have to do it illegally, you’re gone.”

If challenged, he fights back. Ask the NFL, which has seen Osborne publicly chastise the pro league for drafting undergraduates. And if angry or distraught over a loss, he keeps it to himself. Usually.

“When the veins stick out in his neck and his face gets red, you know he’s upset,” McBride said.

The last time anyone can remember Osborne throwing an actual temper tantrum was 1977, at the Liberty Bowl against North Carolina. Upset by Nebraska’s lackluster play during the first half, Osborne assembled his team in the locker room at halftime and unleashed a rare tirade.

As Osborne’s voice rose, so did his hand. He began smacking a player on the shoulder pads with a game program. “He probably doesn’t even remember doing that,” McBride said of Osborne.

But for the most part, Osborne is as hard to read as a doctor’s handwriting. Devaney has known him for 30 years and rarely sees him away from the office. The same goes for most of Osborne’s staff. His players swear by him, but do they really know him? Does anyone?

It is this need for privacy that has made Osborne a target of occasional criticism, no small feat in conservative Nebraska. He has been accused of looking the other way when it came to the much-publicized accounts of steroid use by several Nebraska stars. And those who followed the search for a new athletic director suggested that Osborne worked quietly behind the scenes to see that assistant AD Al Papik got the job rather than Byrne. When Byrne was nominated, Osborne later released a statement that included a lukewarm and qualified endorsement of the selection.

No one, however, can question Osborne’s motives after the tragic events of Jan. 18, when Nebraska running back Scott Baldwin, suffering from a then-undiagnosed major depressive condition, assaulted a Lincoln woman and was later ruled not guilty by reasons of insanity. The attack and Osborne’s reaction to it divided an entire state.

Osborne immediately offered any assistance he could to the badly beaten victim, going so far as to donate the proceeds of Nebraska’s spring football game to the Lincoln graphic artist. But he also angered Cornhusker students, Nebraska fans and taxpayers by insisting that the athletic program pay for Baldwin’s medical care. And when Baldwin was freed on bail, Osborne invited him to live at his home.

Baldwin, who later stayed with a local Lincoln minister, Cornhusker assistant coach Frank Solich and most recently, with Osborne again, is undergoing counseling and taking medication to treat his condition. Earlier this week, Baldwin was temporarily committed to a mental health center in nearby Omaha. According to the judge who ruled on the case, Baldwin, 23, will soon be able to return to Lincoln and resume taking classes at the university. He is expected to graduate in December.

“(The attack) seemed to polarize people in the state because it was public, it was so violent,” said Osborne, who visited the young woman after the incident. “I don’t think people understand insanity and mental illness. If you knew Scott, you’d know he’d never do those things. Obviously, he had no idea what he was doing.”

Not everyone shared Osborne’s opinion. There were those who said Baldwin should be locked up and the key discarded. Others thought Nebraska’s obligation to Baldwin had ended.

“A lot of students were kind of cruel to Scott,” defensive back Tyrone Byrd said. “Some people are hard-hearted. They wanted to put him in jail or kill the guy.”

Said Washington: “It took a lot of courage for Coach Osborne to do what he did. What people fail to realize is that (Baldwin and the woman) are both victims. One of the things the coaches promise your parents when you leave home is that they’re going to do what they can for you, no matter what you do. And Coach Osborne stuck by his word.”

Osborne has done more than that. He said he would recommend to NFL scouts and general managers that they take a chance on Baldwin at next year’s draft.

“He’s a much better risk than some of these guys who test positive for drugs and cocaine,” Osborne said.

So what if he hasn’t won a national championship? To Osborne, winning the big one might mean watching Baldwin receive a diploma and seeing the young woman fully recover from her injuries. It might mean teaching Cornhusker followers that more good comes from helping instead of hating.

One day Osborne will be sitting in that boat of his and in a rare moment, when he isn’t thinking about catching fish, he will consider his career. It won’t take long--only about the time it takes to slap yourself on the back.