Proving the power of an omen, or sometimes a curse, is work
reserved to mystics and to those claiming ESP or using LSD. None of that here. The facts can speak for themselves.
I told them, “Take the ashes and scatter them there.” The place, well it’s the grassy knoll
in front of where the portico of a remarkable landmark stood until January 9,
1892. Academic Hall lasted a mere
seventy-one days after the tradition, the rivalry, (perhaps the curse) began in Kansas City.
In the fall of 1891, Kansas was the first of a four game
season that included the Kansas City YMCA, Washburn, and Drury. While Kansas was marching to victory
(22-10) wearing leather helmets designed by James Naismith (who spent his off hours inventing basketball) the rivalry between Tigers and Jayhawks
moved to the football field. Jaded memories of deeds perpetrated by the
Jayhawkers, Quantrill’s Raiders and lots of ordinary citizens got funneled to
the gridiron and later to Mr. Naismith’s baskets (but that would be a different blog.)
By the close of the Nineteenth Century Kansas held the
decisive margin of seven victories to two for Missouri. For all of those years
this game was played in the Missouri city that bore the Kansas name, Kansas
City. This was a decade of birth and expansion for Missouri football. Its first season in 1890
included only three games and grew to eleven by the end of the century. Opponents in those years included the
always powerful Sedalia Athletic Club, Tarkio, and Iowa Wesleyan.
Missouri’s teams of the 1890’s were led by eight different "head" coaches although there is no record of any assistant coaches. None of them left in pursuit of million dollar salaries. They coached. It
appears there were expectations. H. O. Robinson is the only coach who won his
first game against Kansas. H. O.
Robinson was the only coach who lasted two years in that first decade of the rivalry. There have only been thirty-one coaches
in the entire history of Missouri football and a quarter of them coached in the
first ten years. Six of them lost their
only game with Kansas.
So far there have been two truly legendary
coaches at Mizzou. Don Faurot and
Dan Devine. At a time when Kansas
still led the series by a dozen games, Don Faurot took the reins and began the
reversal of football fortune. In
his first seven games with the rival Jayhawks, he won six and tied one.
Notwithstanding books written about the causes of World War
II, true fans cannot discount the power of an omen. Just at the point when Mizzou’s momentum was indisputable,
Don Faurot went to serve his country and his replacement promptly lost to
Kansas twice. Fortunately, the War
was won and Don returned. He coached
the team until 1956. His teams
evened the score. The record was
tied. Twenty-nine victories apiece
accompanied by seven ties.
Frank Broyles lasted but a single season. He said it was because Missouri played
bush-league football. Who
knows? Just remember he did fall two points
short in Lawrence.
Dan Devine took the team and led Mizzou’s best run at a
national championship. 1960. In his third season, there was but one
loss in the final game of that magical season. To
Kansas. Kansas fielded an
ineligible player and was later disqualified. The official record shows a
Missouri win – but it's a tainted victory. A national championship was swallowed by the curse. Dan’s record versus KU ended at 9-2-2
or 8-3-2 if you see the records through red & blue glasses.
Gary Pinkel stands to become the third legendary coach in
Columbia. But in his fifth year,
he had to muster his best salesmanship in order to get a sixth season. He stood 2-3 with Kansas. He made his case and now stands at 7
& 4 and will coach a while longer.
There is no war to take him.
Tornado season is past.
Faurot Field is immune to flooding. But the forever record will stand at 57-54-9.
Perhaps we should have known. The first building constructed
for the first land grant university west of the Mississippi burned to the
ground only days after the first contest. An omen? A
curse? We will never know. Yet the final gun has sounded on the
rivalry born of civil war. The rising players, students, and supporters from Lawrence and Columbia will never know how it
feels to play the game. Stories of
heroics, of shaking hands at game’s end, of events both true and exaggerated, of
legends real and contrived have reached their final lines.
I put the final record of the rivalry in a three pound
coffee can, doused it with lighter fluid and let some flames take it to ash. The tradition was built by memories of joy,
tears and heartbeats fully spent.
The record will not change. The time has come to scatter the ashes.
--td