Lame-Duck League : The Once-Proud Southwest Conference Will Cease to Exist by Summer of 1996

How does a conference die? More easily than you think.

For the Southwest Conference, the end came painfully, convincingly and perhaps unnecessarily.

The conference that gave college football 99 consensus All-American selections, 13 Hall of Fame coaches, six wire-service national champions, five Heisman Trophy winners and one infamous victim of the NCAA death penalty will cease to exist by the summer of 1996, the first major conference to perish in the new sports order.

SWC headquarters are a virtual ghost town. Only 11 staff members, including interns, remain on payroll. There isn’t much to do except count the days, update resumes and wonder what happened to a league that lasted 80 years and then suffered a coronary.

“We’re small and getting smaller,” said Commissioner Steve Hatchell, who left his job as Orange Bowl executive director to run the league in January, 1993.

Someone will have to turn off the lights. If it isn’t Hatchell, who’s busy trying to find a home for the conference archives, maybe the SWC can enlist Don Meredith, the former Southern Methodist quarterback, who always knew exactly when the party was over.

Frank Windegger, longtime athletic director at Texas Christian, was sitting in the dentist’s chair not long ago when his

doctor inquired about the availability of Horned Frog mementos. Windegger felt a pain--not in his tooth but in his heart.

“I’ve been around this league for 40 years now,” he told the dentist. “Why don’t you just hang my rear end on the wall and you’ll have all the tradition and mementos you need.”

This is hard for Windegger and everyone else who grew up with the SWC. Somehow this league went from Dana X. Bible, to John W. Heisman, to Sammy Baugh, to Jess Neely, to Bobby Layne, to Raymond Berry, to Bear Bryant, to John David Crow, to Darrell Royal, to Frank Broyles, to Tommy Nobis, to James Street, to Earl Campbell, to Bill Yeoman, to Eric Dickerson, to Ken Hatfield, to Andre Ware, to John Mackovic . . . to oblivion. Just like that.

“Tradition dies hard,” said Windegger. “Something 80 years old, you hope that tradition means something.”

It meant nothing. Instead, the SWC is a memory-in-waiting.

Here’s how it happened:

DOMINO NO. 1

THE MONOPOLY ENDS

For nearly half a century, the SWC cornered the Texas football market. Saturdays belonged to Davey O’Brien, Doak Walker, Kyle Rote and John David Crow. Sundays belonged to the Baptist and Methodist worship services, followed by chicken and corn bread dinners.

Then pro football, which had made sporadic and unsuccessful visits, came back. And stayed. The NFL’s Cowboys began playing in Dallas in 1960, as did the AFL’s Oilers in Houston. Suddenly SMU, TCU, Houston and Rice found themselves in direct competition with the emerging TV darling, pro football.

“We have time and we have money and it’s how we spend the two that determines things,” said Fred Jacoby, SWC commissioner from 1982-93.

The SWC began to see an erosion of some of its fan support and income. It was subtle at first, but it was also irreversible, especially when major league baseball, the NBA and, years later, the NHL were granted franchises in SWC strongholds such as Dallas and Houston.

People had time and money, but they didn’t have time and money for both the SWC and, say, the NFL. Someone had to take a hit. Guess who?

DOMINO NO. 2

HATE THY BROTHER

Nine teams . . . eight of them located deep in the heart of Texas. There wasn’t--and still isn’t--another conference like it, where county lines and city limits determined such fierce allegiances, where four private schools--Rice, SMU, TCU and Baylor--mingled with four state universities.

Look at a map. Texas A&M; is 80 miles from Texas and Baylor, 90 miles from Houston and Rice, 155 miles from TCU and SMU. The football claustrophobia led to rivalries that escalated into mini-wars.

“I don’t think it’s that complicated,” said Hatchell, who did what he could to rescue the league before running out of time. “I think the eight schools in one state really hurt. The focus wasn’t one of change, the focus was tearing into each other.”

There was pride at stake. No self-respecting Aggie wanted to be outdone by a Texas Longhorn. No SMU grad wanted to see the Horned Frogs steal the headlines. Corners were cut. Rules were broken. Recruiting became a sacred mission.

“I’ve been told by people who have been around this area for a long time that when college recruiting became cutthroat, sometime in the ‘60s, that’s when we lost some friendships and loyalties,” said Bill Lively, SMU’s interim athletic director. “I think he’s right.”

Making matters worse was the absence of any central authority. The SWC didn’t have a full-time commissioner (then known as an executive secretary) until 1945, 30 years after the conference was formed. James Stewart held the position until 1950 and then was succeeded by Howard Grubbs. Grubbs was followed in 1973 by Cliff Speegle, who was followed in 1982 by Jacoby, who was succeeded by Hatchell.

For the most part, though, Stewart, Grubbs and Speegle were caretakers. They couldn’t or wouldn’t stop the back-stabbing so prevalent in the ultra-competitive league. Even Jacoby’s tenure was held to a penetrating light.

“For a long time things just rocked along,” said Texas A&M; Coach R.C. Slocum. “I didn’t see us taking a strong leadership role at the conference office level. In (the Big Eight and Pacific 10) those leagues always have had very strong conference offices.”

DOMINO NO. 3

SCANDAL

The recruiting wars reached their zenith and the SWC reached its nadir from 1983-88, the days of scandal and controversy.

Free enterprise was alive and well as high school stars made their back-room deals with assorted SWC alumni and boosters. Some of the deals were made with the knowledge and blessings of the coaches, who watched either happily or helplessly as the cheating reached almost comical proportions. In some cases, players weren’t recruited as much as auctioned.

Jacoby was there when the explosion blew the situation out of control.

“It was pervasive at that time,” he said. “It was plugging the dam every place you could.”

By the time the leaks were contained, SMU’s program had received the NCAA’s death penalty. TCU was on probation. Texas, Baylor, Houston, Texas A&M; and Texas Tech all eventually were found guilty of violating major or minor NCAA rules. It was a public relations apocalypse.

Among the penalties and trickle-down effects: fewer TV appearances and less TV revenue, fewer bowl appearances, one fewer program--SMU’s--to generate income for the conference, reduced attendance and, of course, the Exodus.

DOMINO NO. 4

SEE YOU LATER

As the number of sanctions against SWC programs increased, so did the number of out-of-state recruiters venturing into the region for players. Texas always had been a fertile place for high school talent, but rarely did a player cross state lines. If he did, it was usually to Oklahoma or Arkansas.

“The scandals created an atmosphere where the out-of-state schools could come in and paint a bleak picture of the league,” said Slocum. “And the schools here just kept hammering each other.”

Recruits left the state in droves, to Nebraska, Colorado, Michigan, Florida State, Miami, Notre Dame and UCLA, among others.

“It was really disappointing,” said Slocum. “Once the perception was out there . . . kids were led to believe that the best thing to do was to get out of here.

“It’s been very difficult breaking that perception. In the last five, seven, eight years the No. 1 thing I’ve had to do in the (recruit’s) home was defend the Southwest Conference. Most of the other coaches in the country don’t have to do that. The Pac-10 doesn’t have to defend the league. The Big Eight doesn’t. But the No. 1 thing I had to do was go in there and convince them that we were playing in a good conference.”

DOMINO NO. 5

THE COTTON BOWL

Turn on the Rose Bowl telecast and you see sun. Fiesta Bowl . . . sun. Orange Bowl . . . moon over warm Miami.

Turn on the Cotton Bowl, you often see heaters on the sideline. Players wearing mittens. Rain. Cold. Misery.

“I think the Cotton Bowl hurt the league,” said a high-ranking SWC official who requested anonymity. “Up through the mid-70s, the Cotton Bowl was a big deal. Now it isn’t. Here’s the Cotton Bowl, in the cold of Dallas--that hurt it.”

So did a string of poor luck. The Cotton Bowl hasn’t had a national championship game since 1977, when fifth-ranked Notre Dame defeated top-ranked Texas.

DOMINO NO. 6

NOTRE DAME GOES ITS WAY

Of the 64 members of the once powerful College Football Assn., none was more valued than Notre Dame, the great football cash cow. But on Feb. 5, 1990, Notre Dame announced it was leaving the CFA to make its own deal with NBC.

According to terms of the agreement, NBC would retain exclusive rights for telecasts of Irish home games from 1991-95 (later extended through 2000). Notre Dame would get $38 million for the first five years and a comparably generous figure for the extension, too.

Notre Dame’s sudden departure, along with a Federal Trade Commission investigation into possible CFA antitrust violations, forced conferences to reassess their television marketability.

“When Notre Dame pulled out of the CFA package, that was kind of the first step of what happened to the breakup of the CFA . . . and this conference,” said TCU’s Windegger. “The needy and the greedy, that’s what the NCAA has turned into.”

DOMINO NO. 7

BROYLES PULLS THE PLUG

Arkansas, an original member of the SWC and a 13-time conference champion, defected in 1990 and joined the Southeastern Conference in time for the 1992 season. Orchestrating the move was Athletic Director Frank Broyles, who had coached Arkansas to seven of those titles.

In the time it took for the Arkansas Board of Trustees to cast their historic vote on Aug. 1, 1990, the SWC lost one of its highest-profile members, to say nothing of a consistent money maker. Arkansas won games, drew well, got on television, went to bowl games and put cash in the conference account. Now the Razorbacks were gone, leaving Jacoby to wonder what if.

“From July 1990, I tried to encourage the conference to expand,” he said. “The (SWC) presidents said not to talk to any schools in (other) conferences. What you’re left to select from are schools up and down the Mississippi River.”

Jacoby said he pushed to invite Memphis and Louisville. Both schools had nationally recognized basketball programs and emerging football programs.

“But I was blocked every time I tried to make a move,” Jacoby said. “That really hurt us because we had a chance to expand. Both of those programs were in the top 40 TV markets.”

As the SWC stood still, the SEC added Arkansas and South Carolina. Penn State went to the Big Ten. Other leagues began to position themselves for the inevitable Big Bang.

Meanwhile, the SWC had become confined to the state of Texas. It was a geographical hostage and it was the league’s own fault.

“The departure of Arkansas opened the door,” said SMU’s Lively. “Somebody had to do that first, and Arkansas was the one.”

DOMINO NO. 8

THE RUMORS

Arkansas was the first, but supposedly not the last SWC member interested in bolting. Texas was interested in the Pac-10, Texas A&M; was interested in the SEC.

Those schools wanted out because they were upset with the prospects for the SWC’s future. Attendance was spotty at Rice, SMU, TCU and Houston. Facilities were lacking. Revenue sharing remained a sore point.

“It was just a bad deal for everyone,” Slocum said.

In short, Texas and Texas A&M;, the two marquee names, felt they were doing all the heavy financial lifting.

Not true, said Jacoby. The former SWC commissioner said revenue distribution in the conference was adjusted so that the Aggies and Longhorns, who drew large home crowds, would retain a higher percentage of their gate receipts. The formula to distribute TV money also was adjusted in favor of Texas and Texas A&M.;

“We were trying to reward them,” Jacoby said.

Jim Wacker remembers the mess. The former TCU coach, who now is at Minnesota, was appalled by the greed.

“That’s what happened with Arkansas, Texas and Texas A&M;,” he said. “They kept demanding more and more and more of the money. Their stick kept getting bigger and bigger and everyone else’s stick kept getting smaller and smaller. It ultimately tore (the conference) apart.”

And don’t mention the Texas and Texas A&M; concerns to Windegger of TCU. He remembers a different era, with different haves and have nots.

“There were days when the SMUs, Rices and TCUs of the world were carrying Texas and A&M;, too,” he said. “A&M; is the one on probation. They just can’t point at SMU.”

DOMINO NO. 9

THE ONE-TWO PUNCH

Enacted in 1972, Title IX legislation ordered, among other things, that schools receiving federal funds couldn’t discriminate on the basis of gender. From Title IX came an increase in the number of varsity athletic programs available for women. Years later came gender equity. And from gender equity came the realization that equality costs lots of money.

“Title IX is the law,” said Grant Teaff, a former Baylor coach and athletic director who once served on the NCAA’s gender equity task force. “Gender equity is somewhere above the law, depending on whose agenda you are looking at.”

For the SWC, the agenda was simple: Obey the law.

So conference members began adding more women’s sports and scholarships, at the same time adding strain on their operating budgets. Someone had to pay the bills, which was why athletic directors tried to squeeze more money out of football, one of the few sports capable of producing the revenue to bankroll the other programs.

As dollars became more precious, the pressure to produce winning, profitable football programs became more acute. Victories meant higher attendance, more TV appearance fees, more bowl income and increased alumni donations.

Losses got you red ink. And sometimes a pink slip.

Something had to give. In the end, it was the SWC.

“It’s like the Soviet Union,” said Houston Athletic Director Bill Carr. “The ultimate reason for change was not simply ideology, it was economics. When the numbers don’t work, things change.”

DOMINO NO. 10

BLACK ROCK LOSES THE NFL

The New York offices of CBS are known as “Black Rock.” If Windegger had been there the day the Fox network outbid CBS for the rights to the NFC, he might have jumped from a window.

“When CBS lost NFL football, I took a big gulp that day,” he said. “When they lost that, that left CBS with a lot of dollars.”

Added Jacoby: “A black day in college athletics.”

Desperately in need of sports programming, CBS went on a buying spree. The network bought the rights to SEC basketball and football and later did the same with the Big East Conference.

“A whole lot of shaking and baking,” said Windegger.

In essence, the CFA was dead. It was every conference for itself.

The Atlantic Coast Conference, the Big Eight and the Western Athletic Conference signed with ABC, which already had the Pac-10 and the Big Ten. The SWC was left without a safety net.

According to Jacoby, the SWC had spent nearly three years working on an alliance with the Big Eight. But when the CFA collapsed, people panicked--or lied--and the alliance never happened. Instead, Texas, Texas A&M;, Baylor and Texas Tech joined the Big Eight (soon to be Big 12), while Rice, SMU and TCU scurried to join the WAC, all effective for the 1996-97 season. Houston has yet to decide on a conference.

“It popped us like a bomb,” said Windegger, whose school, along with Rice, SMU, and Houston weren’t invited to the Big Eight. “We should have been a little more progressive. We could have played that game and brought in four of them.”

And this from Houston’s Carr: “It was not a result of rational and open discussion. The moving vans came in the middle of the night. I don’t say that with rancor, that’s just the way it is.”

SMU’s Lively had a different perspective. The short version: The SWC screwed up--again.

“We might have been a bit naive,” he said of the negotiations with the Big Eight. “We were probably naive in thinking we didn’t have a problem down here. There were schools with an option and it was only a matter of time before they took it.”

EPILOGUE

Who would have ever thought it: The SWC--the Lame Duck League.

“I grew up in this state,” said Slocum. “I remember watching the games as a little kid. I coached in this league for 20 years.

“It was a great, glorious chapter, when it was a chapter. Now there’s another chapter.”

But you know what they say about sequels. Never as good as the original.