Viewpoint: Sports take doubleheader: portrait of a rivalry as a young man

By Greg DeVries

As you may have heard, the Baylor and TCU’s student governments have agreed to come up with a name for the football rivalry.

As I sat at my computer at the Lariat sports desk, I came up with a name of my own: The Trust Fund Tussle.

The two private schools will compete for reign of the Lone Star State in a way that completely ignores the validity of the state schools surrounding us.

Texas and Texas A&M pretentiously played their rivalry game on Thanksgiving and pretended that the rest of us cared about the outcome as we wolfed down our turkey and mashed potatoes. Now that that’s over, it’s time for Baylor and TCU to step into the spotlight.

I can see it now. The green and gold line up to return the kickoff with seconds remaining on the clock, down by five.

A few laterals and heart-stopping spin moves later, the Bears are in the end zone. The Trust Fund Tussle has been decided and Baylor has come out on top.

The players move to the middle of the field and hoist the trophy much to the delight of the home crowd.

Why hoist the trophy? Because every good rivalry needs one. Maybe it’s a big plaque with two fake blank checks from each university.

Or maybe it can be a treasure chest filled with fake money. The faces on the bills could be Baylor President Ken Starr and TCU Chancellor Dr. Victor J. Boschini Jr.

Better yet, why don’t the two schools pick a charity before the game? Each team puts up a certain amount of money and the winner gets all of the money sent to their charity of choice.

We can have fun with it.

Oct. 13 will mark the first Trust Fund Tussle. Money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy you a football ticket. And football games sure do a good job of making people happy.

Greg DeVries is a junior journalism major from Houston. He is a staff writer at the Baylor Lariat.

By Daniel Hill

Rivalry is what makes up much of the aura, mystique and tradition of college football. Nicknames are not simply handed out. They are earned as a result of an extensive history of gridiron competition and greatness between two schools.

Here are just a few of the notable rivalries in college football: Ohio State-Michigan. Auburn-Alabama — The Iron Bowl. The Backyard Brawl. The Holy War. The Civil War. Cal-Stanford. Florida-Florida State. The World’s Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party. Harvard-Yale. Army-Navy. Southern California-Notre Dame. The Red River Shootout.

What do all of these rivalries have in common? An uncommon history of football excellence and an unquestionable sense of historical importance.

For a rivalry game to be nationally relevant and worthy of a nickname, it has to have significant importance every time the two teams meet on the field.

Does the Baylor and TCU game need a rivalry name? No, it does not even deserve one. Nicknames simply can’t be created for a football game. They have to develop naturally over time. The student governments of two universities simply cannot try to manufacture a nickname for a rivalry game.

Rivalry nicknames are reserved for the best of the best rivalries. Do you think the Auburn and Alabama student governments officially collaborated to call their football game “The Iron Bowl?” I don’t think so. Their rivalry name spawned through years and years of history and because the common fans originated the nickname.

Sure, Baylor and TCU do have history on the football field. They have met 107 times (50-50-7) but they have not had enough memorable games to merit a nickname yet. TCU embarrassed Baylor in 2010 by a score of 45-10. In 2011, much in part to the heroics of Robert Griffin III, Baylor won a thrilling game 50-48.

The 2011 game was a fantastic football game. If more games like that are played between Baylor and TCU for the next 25 years, then the Baylor-TCU game will have developed into the type of game that truly deserves a nickname.

“The Iron Bowl” started in 1893 and yet it didn’t become known as such until the 1980’s.

So let’s not move so quickly to create an artificial nickname for a football game just because we can. Let’s allow the rivalry to develop so that later on down the road, a natural, sincere and genuine nickname can spring up and be remembered in history.

Where it sits today, the Baylor-TCU rivalry is not a game worthy of a nickname, but in time it can get there.

Daniel Hill is a senior journalism major from Seattle. He is a staff writer at the Baylor Lariat.