Husker Nation Celebration Set for Saturday

Lincoln -- As Bob Devaney liked to tell the story, when his team arrived at Folsom Field for a walk-through on the day before the Colorado game at Boulder in 1962, Bob Brown immediately set about sprinting from one goal line to the other to determine if, in fact, the altitude would affect him.

The big lineman collapsed in exhaustion, claiming that as evidence of the effects of the altitude. Devaney disagreed. It was a result of Brown's never having run 100 yards, he said.

Apparently, the story is apocryphal. "Bob (Devaney) made that up," George Sullivan said recently. Sullivan was a trainer and physical therapist at the time, and witness to many events during Devaney's tenure.

"Bob would tell some great stories," he said.

Not all occurred exactly the way he recounted them. But, as someone once wrote, a story can be true even if it didn't happen that way. And so it was with Devaney's stories.

Consider another with Brown as the subject. The Cornhuskers' first consensus All-American under Devaney was less than enthusiastic about practice and one day, while getting his ankles taped, told the coach he wouldn't be able to go, that he was feeling under the weather.

Devaney suggested that Brown suit up anyway and watch from the sideline. At the beginning of practice, he went over to Brown and pointed out a visitor, in suit and tie.

"See that guy? He's a scout for the Eagles," Devaney said, adding that the scout had been asking specifically about Brown. Within minutes, Brown was practicing like never before.

Turns out, the visitor wasn't a scout for the Eagles. He wasn't a scout at all.

The truth in that story was Devaney's skill as a motivator and Brown's ability as a player. Devaney called Brown the best two-way player he ever coached. And few would have argued.

Brown was imposing. He was 6-foot-4 and 260 pounds, at a time when some college linemen weighed less than 200 pounds and most weighed less than 230.

By the time he left Nebraska, as a first-round draft pick of the NFL's Eagles and the AFL's Denver Broncos, he weighed 280 pounds. He was "the ?Big Daddy' of the Cornhuskers," Don Bryant wrote in the 1963 media guide, comparing him to the NFL's Gene "Big Daddy" Lipscomb.

Brown also lifted weights at a time when few others did. His weight room at Nebraska was little more than a cubbyhole in the north field house, and the weights he used were hand-made.

He dominated the line of scrimmage, opening gaping holes as an offensive guard and closing them as a linebacker. He shed would-be blockers with his powerful forearms, leaving nothing between him and the hapless ball carrier. He was second on the team in tackles as a junior, with 49. Times change.

After Nebraska suffered its first loss under Devaney, falling to Missouri at home in 1962, 16-7, Brown began growing a goatee, which he vowed he wouldn't shave until the Cornhuskers defeated Missouri. A year later, after a 13-12 victory at Columbia, the goatee came off.

During the locker room celebration afterward, Sullivan and head trainer Paul Schneider applied the shaving cream, and Brown's teammate Tony Jeter, an All-America end, did the honors.

A few Brown stories might make their way into conversations this weekend during a reunion of former Cornhuskers held in conjunction with the Husker Nation Celebration.

Older Nebraska fans will recall the big man in the No. 64 jersey (the No. 61 he wore as a sophomore was missing from the rack in the equipment room two days before the opener his junior season). Brown's accomplishments are but a small part of the rich tradition being celebrated this weekend, less than a page in a bulky football history written by every player who pulled on the scarlet and cream.

That tradition is revealed in individual accomplishments, many of them long forgotten, or at best, recreated from the yellowed, deteriorating pages of newspapers now committed to microfilm, Tom Novak's performance at linebacker against national champion Notre Dame in 1947, among them.

Novak was in on tackle after tackle and even in defeat received a standing ovation from the partisan Fighting Irish crowd that day, according to one newspaper account. The man nicknamed "Train Wreck" was the leader of "a tough and stubborn bunch of roughnecks," a Chicago paper reported.

Despite a 31-0 loss, the Cornhuskers were met in Lincoln at the train station following their return, and Novak was encouraged to address the cheering crowd, which wasn't about to disperse until he agreed to do so. The Fighting Irish weren't as tough as he thought they would be, he said simply.

Nearly a quarter of a century later, another Cornhusker turned in a similar defensive performance, on the much larger stage provided by national television, on Thanksgiving Day, no less. Middle guard Rich Glover was involved in 22 tackles against Oklahoma in the "Game of the Century."

The image that has come to characterize that dramatic 35-31 Nebraska victory, however, and brings to mind Lyell Bremser's "man, woman and child" radio call, is of Johnny Rodgers' 72-yard punt return for a touchdown to open the scoring less than four minutes into the first quarter.

Rodgers' return is preserved on video, as are many others that reveal tradition in individual accomplishment. Mike Rozier ran nearly 80 yards on a "49 pitch" to gain 2 and score a touchdown against UCLA in 1983, giving ground, reversing and going from one sideline to the other.

Rozier, like Rodgers, depended on the blocks of those around him to avoid would-be tacklers, among them linemen Harry Grimminger and Scott Raridon, as well as quarterback Turner Gill. We remember individual accomplishments but also must remember that football is not an individual sport.

Rozier's run against UCLA was reminiscent of Bobby Reynolds' run against Missouri at Memorial Stadium in 1950, with blockers such as Charley Toogood clearing the zig-zag way.

Film from that time is mostly black and white, with grainy images barely defined. Not so with the video of Tommie Frazier's determined, 75-yard touchdown run against a bewildered Florida defense in the 1996 Fiesta Bowl or Eric Crouch's instinctive 95-yard run at Missouri in 2001.

Those runs are still fresh in memory, as is, to some degree, a play in the 17-14 upset of No. 1-ranked Oklahoma on a cold afternoon at Memorial Stadium in 1978, the image of John Ruud hustling down the field under a Tim Smith punt and launching his body at the Sooners' Kelly Phelps.

Ruud arrived a split-second after the ball, impeccable timing, with such force that Phelps suffered a separated shoulder and the ball went bouncing free on the synthetic surface, to be recovered by Nebraska. Oklahoma fumbled nine times, but that wasn't among them according to the officials.

As it turned out, the officiating gaff didn't prevent Coach Tom Osborne's first victory against Oklahoma, a bit of good fortune that might have contributed to Osborne's decision to turn down an offer to coach Colorado barely a month later. That decision determined the course of Cornhusker history like no other. Had Osborne departed, the tradition might well have taken a turn for the worse.

Under his leadership and direction, Nebraska enjoyed its greatest success. If an individual were to symbolize the Husker Nation, he would probably be that individual, a native son whose decision to go for a two-point conversion and victory against Miami in the 1984 Orange Bowl game, rather than settle for a tie with a national championship on the line, characterizes the Cornhusker spirit, playing to win.

But Osborne would be uncomfortable as a symbol of something as difficult to calculate as the Cornhusker spirit, which is the sum of generations of coaches and players.

Generations? John Ruud followed his brother, Tom, to Nebraska from Bloomington, Minn., and Tom has been followed by sons Barrett and Bo, whose great-grandfather, Clarence Swanson, was a Cornhusker letterman from 1918 to 1921, as was their uncle, Bob Martin. The Husker Nation is very much a family affair.

Thirty years ago, Tony Davis punched at the stands beyond the end zone after a touchdown in Osborne's first game as head coach. Now Tony's son, Josh, is a Cornhusker I-back.

Ralph Damkroger's sons, Maury and Steve, followed him to Nebraska, as did Larry Frost's son, Scott, Ben Gregory's son, Morgan, and Joe Blahak's son, Chad. And there have been others.

The Fischer brothers, Clete, Ken, Rex and Pat, all were Cornhusker lettermen. The kickers and offensive linemen he later coached can still hear Clete's raspy laugh.

The Fischers were Nebraskans. Homegrown student-athletes are a significant part of the Husker Nation ? all but one on the 1941Rose Bowl travel roster were from the state ? as are walk-ons. Bill Johnson was both, walking on from Stanton, Neb. He made a memorable tackle on the final play of a 21-17 victory at Oklahoma State in 1965, pulling down the Cowboys' Walt Garrison at the 5-yard line.

Tradition revealed in individual accomplishment.

Two members of Coach Frank Solich's staff walked on at Nebraska, Jeff Jamrog and Jimmy Williams, who came from Washington, D.C., as did one of the first, Langston Coleman.

Coleman, a defensive end whose fearsome countenance reflected his aggressive play, hitchhiked to Nebraska in order to walk on. The names and images flood the senses, forcing the mind to search for high ground, the roof of Memorial Stadium's skybox addition, perhaps, to avoid drowning.

Alabama's Bear Bryant crossing the field after the 1966 Orange Bowl game to shake Solich's hand, Mike Stuntz tossing a 63-yard touchdown pass to Crouch in the 2001 Oklahoma game; Cory Schlesinger crashing into the end zone for the winning touchdown in the 1995 Orange Bowl game.

Gill getting up time and again in the face of a blitzing Missouri defense in 1981; Matt Davison's miraculous catch against the Tigers in 1997; Johnny Rodgers presenting the game ball to Rex Lowe in the locker room following the 1972 Orange Bowl; Jerry Tagge straining to cross the goal line in the 1971 Orange Bowl; Jeff Kinney scoring the winning touchdown against Oklahoma in the "Game of the Century"; Barron Miles blocking a punt in Osborne's 200th victory in 1993.

The Heisman Trophy winners, Rodgers, Rozier and Crouch; the Outland Trophy winners, Glover, Larry Jacobson, Dave Rimington, Dean Steinkuhler, Will Shields, Zach Wiegert and Aaron Taylor; the Lombardi Award winners, Glover, Rimington, Steinkuhler and Grant Wistrom.

The Academic All-Americans, beginning with Don Fricke and Pat Clare, who is in his 30th year as a team orthopedist and his eighth as chief of the football medical staff.

Clare came from Sioux City, Iowa, and finished his Cornhusker career the season before Devaney arrived. Some regard that arrival as the beginning of Nebraska's football tradition.

But the spirit of the Husker Nation precedes the time when the university team was first known as the Cornhuskers, around 1900, a name bestowed by sportswriter Cy Sherman.

George Flippin, Nebraska football's first African-American, contributed to that tradition during the 1890s, as did the Cornhuskers' earliest All-Americans, Vic Halligan and Guy Chamberlin.

Ed Weir came from Superior to earn All-America honors and the respect of legendary Notre Dame coach Knute Rockne, whose Four Horsemen didn't fare all that well against Nebraska. The teams on which they played endured only two losses in three seasons, both against the Cornhuskers.

After the Horsemen defeated Nebraska in 1924, Rockne sought out Weir in the locker room, to shake his hand and tell him he was the "greatest tackle" and "cleanest player" he, Rockne, had ever seen.

The tradition includes All-Americans Dan McMullen and Ray Richards, who followed Weir in the late 1920s, and a half-dozen All-Americans in the 1930s: Hugh Rhea, Lawrence Ely, George Sauer, Sam Francis, Fred Shirey and Charles Brock, who missed the Rose Bowl trip by two years.

Those players, and those who played alongside them, must be remembered now in print, their accomplishments the stuff of legend and a game bearing scant resemblance to football now.

For the most part, that is also true of the 1940s, which began with Coach Biff Jones' Rose Bowl team. Warren Alfson and Forrest Behm earned All-America recognition that season, which culminated in the first of what is now an annually lengthened list of post-season bowl appearances.

Devaney, the storyteller, claimed that he was at Nebraska for some time before he learned that the Cornhuskers had lost the 1941 Rose Bowl game. Such was the affection for that team.

The Husker Nation transcends borders. Cornhuskers, scholarship and walk-on, have come from as far away as Australia, from Canada and Hawaii. And they have remained in spirit if not in fact.

Bob Brown came from Cleveland, as did Solich. Rozier was from New Jersey, as were Glover, Irving Fryar and the Peter brothers, Christian and Jason, who contributed to a Blackshirt tradition that can be traced back to the 1960s and George Kelly, a Devaney assistant.

No matter where they have come from, Nebraska becomes a second home. Current Cornhusker Ryon Bingham, from Sandy, Utah, summed it up. "I've changed in lots of ways," he said. "But mainly, everything starts to feel like home. I go back to Utah, it feels like I'm on vacation.

"This is my home now."

That's the truth. And it happened exactly that way.