Friday, September 7, 2001

Battle for Iron Skillet not true rivalry
by Rusty Simmons
Skiff Staff

The arguments have already started.

University A proclaims that University B is full of pompous, lazy students, who live off their parents’ money. University B retorts that University A only has students because they couldn’t get into University B.

It’s more than two months from the opening kickoff of the Texas A&M vs. Texas football game, but the arguments have already started. Meanwhile, on the campuses of TCU and Southern Methodist, public relations offices are desperately trying to ignite a fire in the media, declaring Saturday’s “Iron Skillet Game” a meeting of rivals.

Once upon a time, the Frogs vs. the Mustangs included some of the characteristics of a real college football rivalry, but those days are long past. The rivalries of college football are between teams with history and tradition, between teams in the national spotlight, between teams that have developed hatred for one another and between teams that include extreme notions from the schools fans and bands.

When comparing the alleged TCU-SMU rivalry with some legitimate rivalries, it becomes apparent that the lie won’t last much longer. We’ll find that rivalries involve more than just geographic proximity.

A rivalry has history and tradition. The Harvard-Yale rivalry dates back to 1875.

lthough it is now a game between Division I-AA teams, the game still means something. It is the original rivalry, and its history and lore are still thick with anecdotes of meaning.

In 1968, Harvard scored a touchdown and converted a two-point conversion with less than a minute remaining to cut the deficit to 29-21. The Crimson then recovered an onside kick, scored again and made a two-point conversion with no time left on the clock to tie the score, 29-29. The headline in the Harvard school paper said, “Harvard beats Yale 29-29.”

That’s history and tradition.

It’s true that the Horned Frog and Mustang meetings date back to 1915, and during the post-World War II college football boom the students created a traveling trophy, called the Iron Skillet. But the tradition of presenting the skillet to the winner of the annual football game eventually died, and the original skillet was lost. In 1993, the schools attempted to revive the tradition, but it didn’t work.

A rivalry is between two of the nation’s top teams, or at least teams in the national spotlight, playing for more than a single victory. The Ohio State-Michigan rivalry is perennially between squads, both ranked in the top 25, vying for a spot in the Rose Bowl, which is the host of this year’s national championship game. The game is of such importance on a yearly basis that in 1950, Michigan won, 9-3, amid a snowstorm.

The game featured 45 punts, many on first down to avoid fumbling. Michigan didn’t register a first down, but it recorded a safety and a touchdown on blocked punts to pull out the victory. Those are top teams playing for more than just a single victory.

The match ups between TCU and SMU rarely feature a team in the top 25, and a game between the schools has never been played while both were in the top 25.

Since TCU has jumped from the Western Athletic Conference to Conference USA, the TCU vs. SMU game doesn’t even result in a conference victory. It’s simply another game for both teams.

A rivalry breeds hatred. There is no in-between when it comes to the Alabama-Auburn rivalry. Within the state lines of Alabama, you either support Alabama or Auburn, and nothing else matters.

The dislike for each other has even had an effect on the site of the game, because fans from neither team wanted to step foot on their opponent’s campus. Until last season, the game hadn’t been played at Alabama’s home field in Tuscaloosa since 1901. For decades, the game was played at a neutral site in Birmingham. That’s hatred between two schools.

Auburn fans would have attempted to assassinate Bear Bryant, a former Alabama coach, if he would have switched schools. The same is not true at TCU or SMU.

Angie Ravaioli-Larkin, the TCU women’s golf coach, was once a star on the SMU golf team, yet rarely does anyone at TCU question her allegiance to the Frogs.

A rivalry includes extreme notions from the school’s fans and bands. It has been a long time since the Army-Navy rivalry has had any impact on the national championship picture, but what the fans and bands represent in this game is untouchable. The players, who have little chance of playing in the NFL, play with passion and desire in hopes of garnering a victory. Then the players, fans and bands stand at attention for each other’s alma maters. That’s an extreme notion from the schools’ fans and bands.

While the SMU and TCU bands bicker over rye seed planted on each other’s field, the students at Texas and Texas A&M have bigger things on their minds. After the Texas A&M bonfire collapsed two years ago, killing 12 people, the Texas band played an unforgettable rendition of “Amazing Grace” at half-time in tribute.

Argument closed.

Rusty Simmons is a senior news-editorial journalism major from Woodbridge, Va. He may be contacted at (j.r.simmons@student.tcu.edu).