*****NOTE: THIS IS THE COVER STORY FROM THE 2024 SUMMER MAGAZINE THAT WAS PUBLISHED IN THE SUMMER*****
The culture war has always existed in Texas.
At least since 1894 when the Longhorns and Aggies clashed in a scrimmage at Austin’s Hyde Park in the state’s first intercollegiate football game. Admission was $1.
The Seat Geek price for the cheapest ticket to this November’s battle between the two rivals – the first in over a decade – was $555 as of April.
The Aggies vs. the Horns. Farmers vs. Varsity. The Cult vs. the T-sips. The Lone Star State was once split, physically and spiritually, between urban and rural. The team in Austin wearing burnt orange represented the city. The maroon squad from College Station was rural. Texas was parties and protests. Texas A&M was more patriotic and pageantry. One campus was on a sprawling 40 acres. The other in a town with 40 buildings…maybe.
In College Station, a student in the early days of the rivalry woke up to the sounds of Reveille and slept to the tunes of Silver Taps. Located near Sixth Street in the “Live Music Capital of the World,” Texas students lived a life more in tune with the one described by Charlie Daniels in “Long Haired Country Boy.”
Texas’ new highway system bypassed Aggieland in College Station. I-35 connected Austin, and the University of Texas, to Dallas while I-45 was a straight shot from Dallas to Houston. U.S Route 290, which was built in 1927, connected Austin to Houston. In those days, Aggies didn’t populate high society social circles in any of our major cities – that was reserved for graduates of Texas, SMU and TCU. The Longhorns and other alumni from high-tuition institutions inside the Southwest Conference helped pick the wars. The Aggies won them. They were oilmen. Farmers. Ranchers. Twenty thousand of them fought in World War II.
“When I came to Texas A&M from Mississippi College…it was a rough place,” said Frank G. Anderson in 1980, who arrived as an assistant for Dana X. Bible’s Aggies in 1920. “The freshmen had to go through nine months of hazing and a lot of them couldn’t take it. They’d go home at Christmas and not come back. Rough! Tough! Real stuff! Texas A&M! We thought of the boys at Texas as tea sippers.”
The battle lines were obvious, even if reductive. Blue vs. White collar. Flash vs. Grit. Country Club vs. Tent Row. Pick your side.
The burnt orange faithful chose Earl, Ricky and Nobis in Memorial Stadium, the first all-concrete sporting structure in the south when it was erected in 1924. They watched in glee as the Longhorns won three national championships under the direction of Darrell K Royal in the 60s and early 70s, and one more with Mack Brown and Vince Young in 2005. The wishbone offense. Smokey the Cannon. Big Bertha. Matthew McConaughey playing the bongos naked after a win over Nebraska. Texas football helped shape the state’s obsession with the sport.
The 12th Man worshipped Dat, John David and R.C. at Kyle Field. They yelled and hissed as the “College Station Wagon” national championship squad of 1939 led by head coach Homer Norton and “Jarrin’ Jawn” Kimbrough went 10-0. They locked arms and belted the Aggie War Hymn as Johnny “Football” Manziel marched to the Heisman Trophy in 2012. Midnight Yell. The Junction Boys. The Wrecking Crew defenses led by Sam Adams, Von Miller, and others. The Corps of Cadets kissing their dates after scores. No program defines tradition and pageantry like the Aggies.
Both programs cheered for head coach Dana X. Bible at different times – the only man to be the head coach for each of the rivals. BEVO I debuted at the 1917 clash between the two rivals and was a direct reference to the 13-0 win by the Aggies in 1915. Reveille made her way into the rivalry in 1931. Texas leads the all-time series over Texas A&M, 76-37-5. That 39-game advantage exists because of a 14-1-2 run for Texas from 1894-1908 and a 31-3-1 record from 1940-1974.
Ask an outsider about football in the Great State and they’ll list Friday Night Lights and the Thanksgiving Day tradition of Texas vs. Texas A&M as the main cultural identifiers. Our small towns close on Friday nights to watch our high schools battle and then we hunker in front of the television on Saturday for a different type of service – most worship at the altar of Texas or Texas A&M. Football is big here, and that’s the only size we know.
To understand the State of Texas, learn our preferred trinity: Faith, family, football – not always in that order.