TOUGH one COWBOY

SO COWBOY FANS, WHICH FOOTBALL PLAYERS RECEIVE

LESS LOVE, NOTORIETY, PHOTOS IN THE PAPER OR PATS-ON-THE-BACK THAN ANY OTHER?

GOT A QUICK ANSWER?

It wouldn’t be the quarterback ... Everyone knows the team’s fate depends on how well/poorly these adored gridiron idols perform. Next, running backs and receivers earn more than their share of time in the spotlight and ink from the media. Also, much hoopla spews out when the defense gets credited with a sack, a critical goalline stand, forcing consistent three-andouts, causing and recovering a fumble or making a key interception.

Who does that leave? The last group, OFFENSIVE LINEMEN — those less notables of obscurity, who must block without using their hands, open holes for the running backs and protect the quarterback. Their mention is usually limited to their failings.

“WHY CAN’T OUR LINE BLOCK ANYBODY?”

“NUMBER 62 GOT ANOTHER STUPID HOLDING PENALTY!”

In actuality, a superb performance by this group is critical to winning ball games.

This story is about one of those guys, Charlie Harper, number 60, who in 1965 helped Oklahoma State snap a miserable, frustrating 19-game losing streak to the Oklahoma Sooners. At 6-foot-2, 210 pounds, he became a dominant All-Big Eight Conference guard, sometimes playing on both sides of the ball.

At 250 pounds, he went on to play seven seasons for the New York Giants. Recruited as a fullback out of high school, Harper was subsequently moved to the offensive line.

“That was a sad day for me,” Harper said. “But the truth is, I WOULD HAVE HAD TO BEAT OUT WALT GARRISON (an all-conference running back and future Dallas Cowboy) to play in the backfield, and that wasn’t going to happen. It ended up being a blessing for me.”

Broken Arrow Roots

Charlie Harper grew up several miles outside of Broken Arrow, “in the country” as we used to say. He attended grades one through eight in a one-room schoolhouse with the same teacher for all grades and walked 1.5 miles to and from school every day, rain, snow or shine. The high school was seven miles from the Harper home, but fortunately, buses ran.

“WE WERE POOR — NO ELECTRICITY OR INDOOR BATHROOM UNTIL I WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL,” Harper recalled. “We didn’t have a phone or car for a long time. Our family went to town in a wagon pulled by horses, and we weren’t going there to be in a parade. But I believe my childhood was blessed.”

Harper started for the junior varsity (the term was B-team in those days) his sophomore year and played some for the varsity. For the opening road game they traveled to Claremore and returned after 10 p.m. to Broken Arrow High School. No one offered him a ride home, nor did he ask, so he began the solitary seven-mile journey on a gravel road.

“After about two hours or so, I was about a half-mile from home, going down this last dark, lonely road. Ahead of me, in the middle of the road, was this large black object, which I couldn’t quite make out.

“Man, I’m tired, and all I know is I’m not going around it — I don’t care if it’s a bear or what. Finally I can see it’s a huge Black Angus cow that has gotten out. At that exact instant it saw me and jumped ... scared me pretty good. One of those things you don’t forget.”

Harper is the son of a farmer.

“One time, a hailstorm came through and beat our crops down to nothing but stubble,” Harper remembered. “After the weather cleared, Dad and I walked out to survey the damage. He didn’t say a word, but I knew it wasn’t good. Soon after that Dad went into construction and, eventually, began building houses. I was always proud of him. In the end, he had everything paid for and was able to retire.”

Broken Arrow always came at least a game short of making the playoffs during Harper’s high school career, but HE WAS AN ALL-STATE PERFORMER AS A FULLBACK AND DEFENSIVE END

“I played with a bunch of good guys who played well together; we never gave up, and I considered us winners,” Harper said. Recruited by the Pokes, Oklahoma and Nebraska, Charlie decided not to visit the Cornhuskers and eventually chose OSU.

“OU wasn’t as friendly an atmosphere as OSU. I liked the people in Stillwater so I decided to go there. It was a great decision for me, and I’m so thankful I decided to do that.”

Stillwater

Harper’s freshman team at OSU played only two games, defeating both the Sooners and Arkansas, a noteworthy accomplishment. As an undergraduate, he planned to become an optometrist, never dreaming that one day he’d play professional football.

An event akin to an F-5 tornado arrived during the offseason that changed the OSU football landscape. OSU’s Board of Regents fired eight-year head coach Cliff Speegle . In his place would be Phil Cutchin , a disciple of the legendary PAUL ‘BEAR’ BRYANT at Alabama. Cutchin had helped coach Bama to the 1962 national title.

For the Pokes, there soon would be hell to pay — things were about to radically change. Offseason drills commenced after Christmas break. One hundred fifteen players participated and practiced in the clammy, smelly basement of Gallagher Hall, which consisted of no air-conditioning, a dirt floor and a 15-foot ceiling. It was appropriately, although not affectionately, called The Dungeon. Workouts were brutal, and as expected, no fans were allowed to watch.

For two hours, non-stop, players went from station to station, performing agility drills, running sprints or doing isometric exercises in which the athlete pushes against an immovable 3-feet by 1.5-inch thick steel rod with all his strength.

Larry Elliot , a 5-foot-8, 158-pound halfback from Elk City, recalled, “We’re changing stations, our group going to isometrics. When we got there, I saw several steel rods bent, laying on the ground and wondered out loud what happened. I was told Charlie bent them all, pushing up on them with his legs. Some strength! He was mighty powerful.”

Periodically, a group would run upstairs to the wrestling room where they were paired against a comparably sized teammate for a 12-minute, non-stop match. Then back to The Dungeon.

One assistant coach routinely yelled at the players, “I hope the whole damn bunch of you quit — that way, next season we can start with all new players.”

When the daily ordeal of practice concluded, the zombie-like players, beyond exhaustion, headed for the locker room. More than a few needed help to undress so they could shower. IN A FEW DAYS, PLAYERS BEGAN TO QUIT, DROPPING LIKE FLIES. They were leaving three or four at a time, mostly at night. The experience was nightmarish to say the least. In addition, most injuries were not an excuse to miss practice.

That season, Harper spent a brief time in the university infirmary.

“My foot got infected, swelled up and I couldn’t get my shoe on. After I’d been there a couple of days, two student football managers, on a Sunday, came over, helped me to their car and took me back to Bennett Hall. That next day my foot was so big that I still couldn’t put my cleats on. A trainer split a side of my shoe with a razor, stuffed my foot in, taped it up and I practiced.”

The spring game finally rolled around, and there were only 46 players on the squad, of which a mere 12 tipped the scales at 200 pounds or more, the heaviest at 220.

Following that summer, the squad returned in August for spring practice. The hell they had left behind for summer break was alive and well. Players, during 100-degree-plus days, couldn’t have as much as a sip of water. Stories say five players passed out in one practice, including one who was hospitalized for three days.

The Cowboys had a miserable record that season, going 1-8. A winnable game against Kansas State had been cancelled because of President Kennedy’s assassination. In the season’s finale against OU, only 28 (28 survivors — a band of brothers, some not even able-bodied) suited up. Eighty-seven players had either quit or were injured, mainly the former. Today that group’s bond is thicker than blood.

How does Harper recall the experience?

“I bought into Cutchin’s philosophy of ‘Never give up, believe you can, do your part, don’t play half-hearted, play with all your heart, always do the best you can.’

“I would have never made it in pro ball without the things Cutchin instilled in us. Practice in the pros was a picnic compared to what we did back then. I’m proud I stayed and of all the guys who did. In life those guys are winners. We probably lost more games than we won, but we always left everything we had on the field ... didn’t know any other way to play.”

Harper’s final two years the Pokes finished 4-6 and 3-7, respectively, with seven of those loses being by a touchdown or less. “Sure, I’d liked to have won more games,” he said, “but I’m proud to have been on those teams ... honored to have played with my teammates.”

That last season, 1965, there was icing on the cake to be had — a perfect way to end a career. It had been 1946 since the Cowboys last tasted a Bedlam victory, but lightning finally struck. The Pokes smacked the daunted Sooners 17-16 on a late field goal by Charlie Durkee before a partisan, somewhat deflated, crowd of 57,000 in Norman.

In that victory, Walt Garrison ran for a tough 74 yards, Charles Trimble blocked two first-quarter field goal attempts and receiver Lynn Chadwick made a miraculous leaping third-down catch. He was playing with a broken finger and hauled in the pass between two defenders late in the contest. It was a critical drive on the Pokes’ winning possession.

Harper anchored the defense with 12 tackles. Just before the half, Trimble and Willard Nahrgang stuffed OU on a twopoint conversion try.

Larry Elliot remembers the end of that game. “THE FANS WENT ABSOLUTELY NUTS, TORE DOWN A GOAL POST, CARRIED PLAYERS OFF THE FIELD, AN OUT-AND-OUT FRENZY!”

“The only bad thing about it for me was that I’d already been drafted by the Giants, and they had plans to fly Linda and me back to New York after the game to watch their game the next day,” Harper said. “I didn’t get to stick around and celebrate. We weren’t supposed to beat OU. One of those things I’ll never forget ... a big day in my life.”

Five players off that squad — Harper, Garrison, Durkee, Dennis Randall and Harold Akin — went on to NFL careers. Another, Leon Ward , lost his life in a tragic boating accident or he would have made that list. In the NFL Draft, Harper was selected in the eighth round with the 113th pick.