https://oklahoman.com/article/56495...barrys-boy-steve-owens-won-the-heisman-trophy
OU football: 50 years ago, Barry's Boy, Steve Owens, won the Heisman Trophy
by Berry Trammel
Published: Wed, December 11, 2019 1:04 AM Updated: Wed, December 11, 2019 1:24 AM
Jack Baer was born old and then got crusty. Baer was OU’s baseball coach when the Sooners won the 1951 College World Series and eventually joined the football program, primarily as equipment manager.
Baer, raised in hardscrabble Shawnee, was an all-Big Six quarterback at OU, then was a Navy lieutenant in World War II. He liked his rules strict and his ballplayers tough. Baer had little patience for soft.
So in 1967, when a sophomore tailback came to Baer and asked for a different kind of shoe, the request might as well have been for a palatial estate on the French Riviera. “Absolutely not,” Baer barked in his distinctive scratchy voice.
Then Steve Owens took the bold step of going over Baer’s head. Owens always had worn Liddell cleats and just didn’t feel comfortable in Spot-Bilts, the shoe brand worn by the Sooners. Owens asked his offensive coordinator for some help.
And Barry Switzer told Baer to get Owens the Liddells. Baer did as he was told, but he didn’t like it. And Baer gave Owens a nickname intended for derision. Intended to make Owens look weak among his peers. Baer called Owens “Barry’s boy.”
Fifty years ago this month, Owens won the Heisman Trophy. He won it by playing hard-hat tailback.
Owens rushed for 1,647 yards and 21 touchdowns on 393 carries in 1968, then rushed for 1,523 yards and 23 touchdowns on 358 carries in 1969. That’s 35.8 carries per game.
Nothing about Owens was soft. But half a century later, he’s proud to have been called Barry’s Boy.
“Loved to play for Switzer,” Owens said. “Loved a guy that could push us so hard to be better each day. He expected the very best.”
Switzer became head coach in 1973. When we remember Switzer’s seven years as an OU assistant coach, it’s usually in the context of the 1970 transition to the wishbone. But from 1967-69, Switzer was Chuck Fairbanks’ offensive coordinator and a coach who had a deep impact on the likes of Owens and Bobby Warmack, Steve Zabel and Ken Mendenhall.
“Steve Owens never met a dark hole he didn’t like,” Switzer used to say about his tailback’s toughness.
Owens was so tough, Switzer wasn’t even sure tailback was the right position.
In spring 1967, the Sooner coaches considered playing Owens at wingback, tight end, linebacker, safety and cornerback. Looking back, seems likely Owens would have been an All-American linebacker. Switzer was thinking tight end.
“I wasn’t sure about his speed,” Switzer said. “I never saw high school film of him (from Miami, in the northeast corner of the state). Thought he was a big, good-looking kid. Worked him out as a freshman, I didn’t pay much attention to him.”
But that spring, the coaches tried Owens at tailback. In a goal-line drill against a defense led by nose guard Granville Liggins that eventually led the Sooners to the Big Eight title and a No. 2 ranking in the final AP poll, the offense was given the ball at the 10-yard line.
“He scored every time within two carries,” Switzer said. “Ricocheted through, made people miss. Just a north-south slasher. I said, ‘that son-of-a-b**** is going to play tailback for us.’”
The toughest part, Owens recalled, is that the coaches would tell the defense what was coming. Of course, by 1969, you didn’t need to tell Oklahoma opponents what play was coming. Steve Owens was coming, looking for that dark hole.
By early in the 1967 season opener, Owens was backing up tailback Ron Shotts but getting plenty of carries. Eighteen against both Washington State and Maryland; 15 against Texas, for 106 yards against the eventual national champion.
In those days, the starting unit wore red jerseys. The second-team offense wore orange jerseys. Switzer went to Baer and ordered a red jersey for Owens’ locker. “That’s a starter,” Switzer said.
Owens discovered the red jersey and thought there had been a mistake. He took the jersey to Baer.
“Go talk to Barry” Baer said. “You’re Barry’s boy.”
More than half a century later, Switzer still sees it as an easy decision. Shotts and Owens still alternated, “but when it came nut-cutting time, I always put Steve in there anyway, I gave him the ball a lot.”
Fifty years ago, Owens was in New York to receive the most famous trophy in sport. It was quite a trip.
Owens’ parents took their first plane ride, and Owens’ stories of his dad in New York are fabulous, of Peanut Owens threatening to punch legendary barkeep Toot Shor, who playfully jabbed on the chin the people he met. Of Peanut Owens trying to sleep off a hangover, and Cherry Owens, Steve’s mother, looking out the hotel window and urging her husband to come see the Statue of Liberty, and Peanut saying, “I don’t care who it is, I can’t get out of bed.”
Of meeting Tom Seaver and Joe Namath, stars who in December 1969 owned New York like no athlete since. Of going on the Johnny Carson Show, the night Muhammad Ali and Charlton Heston also were guests. “Sitting between Moses and Muhammad Ali,” Owens says today with a hearty laugh.
Of taking to New York his fullback, Mike Harper, who opened so many holes in that ’69 season, a representative of the all teammates who made such a trip possible. Mendenhall, Bill Elstrom, Jack Porter, Eddie Hinton, Warmack, Jack Mildren. Dozens of others.
Of riding back to this part of the country on Air Force One with President Nixon, to attend the Big Shootout, the famed Texas-Arkansas game that decided the national championship.
And it’s been quite a trip since. The NFL. Success in Norman business, where the Heisman still packs a punch. Iconic status in the pantheon of Oklahoma football.
All because Steve Owens was not the least bit soft, even if he was Barry’s Boy.
OU football: 50 years ago, Barry's Boy, Steve Owens, won the Heisman Trophy
by Berry Trammel
Published: Wed, December 11, 2019 1:04 AM Updated: Wed, December 11, 2019 1:24 AM
Jack Baer was born old and then got crusty. Baer was OU’s baseball coach when the Sooners won the 1951 College World Series and eventually joined the football program, primarily as equipment manager.
Baer, raised in hardscrabble Shawnee, was an all-Big Six quarterback at OU, then was a Navy lieutenant in World War II. He liked his rules strict and his ballplayers tough. Baer had little patience for soft.
So in 1967, when a sophomore tailback came to Baer and asked for a different kind of shoe, the request might as well have been for a palatial estate on the French Riviera. “Absolutely not,” Baer barked in his distinctive scratchy voice.
Then Steve Owens took the bold step of going over Baer’s head. Owens always had worn Liddell cleats and just didn’t feel comfortable in Spot-Bilts, the shoe brand worn by the Sooners. Owens asked his offensive coordinator for some help.
And Barry Switzer told Baer to get Owens the Liddells. Baer did as he was told, but he didn’t like it. And Baer gave Owens a nickname intended for derision. Intended to make Owens look weak among his peers. Baer called Owens “Barry’s boy.”
Fifty years ago this month, Owens won the Heisman Trophy. He won it by playing hard-hat tailback.
Owens rushed for 1,647 yards and 21 touchdowns on 393 carries in 1968, then rushed for 1,523 yards and 23 touchdowns on 358 carries in 1969. That’s 35.8 carries per game.
Nothing about Owens was soft. But half a century later, he’s proud to have been called Barry’s Boy.
“Loved to play for Switzer,” Owens said. “Loved a guy that could push us so hard to be better each day. He expected the very best.”
Switzer became head coach in 1973. When we remember Switzer’s seven years as an OU assistant coach, it’s usually in the context of the 1970 transition to the wishbone. But from 1967-69, Switzer was Chuck Fairbanks’ offensive coordinator and a coach who had a deep impact on the likes of Owens and Bobby Warmack, Steve Zabel and Ken Mendenhall.
“Steve Owens never met a dark hole he didn’t like,” Switzer used to say about his tailback’s toughness.
Owens was so tough, Switzer wasn’t even sure tailback was the right position.
In spring 1967, the Sooner coaches considered playing Owens at wingback, tight end, linebacker, safety and cornerback. Looking back, seems likely Owens would have been an All-American linebacker. Switzer was thinking tight end.
“I wasn’t sure about his speed,” Switzer said. “I never saw high school film of him (from Miami, in the northeast corner of the state). Thought he was a big, good-looking kid. Worked him out as a freshman, I didn’t pay much attention to him.”
But that spring, the coaches tried Owens at tailback. In a goal-line drill against a defense led by nose guard Granville Liggins that eventually led the Sooners to the Big Eight title and a No. 2 ranking in the final AP poll, the offense was given the ball at the 10-yard line.
“He scored every time within two carries,” Switzer said. “Ricocheted through, made people miss. Just a north-south slasher. I said, ‘that son-of-a-b**** is going to play tailback for us.’”
The toughest part, Owens recalled, is that the coaches would tell the defense what was coming. Of course, by 1969, you didn’t need to tell Oklahoma opponents what play was coming. Steve Owens was coming, looking for that dark hole.
By early in the 1967 season opener, Owens was backing up tailback Ron Shotts but getting plenty of carries. Eighteen against both Washington State and Maryland; 15 against Texas, for 106 yards against the eventual national champion.
In those days, the starting unit wore red jerseys. The second-team offense wore orange jerseys. Switzer went to Baer and ordered a red jersey for Owens’ locker. “That’s a starter,” Switzer said.
Owens discovered the red jersey and thought there had been a mistake. He took the jersey to Baer.
“Go talk to Barry” Baer said. “You’re Barry’s boy.”
More than half a century later, Switzer still sees it as an easy decision. Shotts and Owens still alternated, “but when it came nut-cutting time, I always put Steve in there anyway, I gave him the ball a lot.”
Fifty years ago, Owens was in New York to receive the most famous trophy in sport. It was quite a trip.
Owens’ parents took their first plane ride, and Owens’ stories of his dad in New York are fabulous, of Peanut Owens threatening to punch legendary barkeep Toot Shor, who playfully jabbed on the chin the people he met. Of Peanut Owens trying to sleep off a hangover, and Cherry Owens, Steve’s mother, looking out the hotel window and urging her husband to come see the Statue of Liberty, and Peanut saying, “I don’t care who it is, I can’t get out of bed.”
Of meeting Tom Seaver and Joe Namath, stars who in December 1969 owned New York like no athlete since. Of going on the Johnny Carson Show, the night Muhammad Ali and Charlton Heston also were guests. “Sitting between Moses and Muhammad Ali,” Owens says today with a hearty laugh.
Of taking to New York his fullback, Mike Harper, who opened so many holes in that ’69 season, a representative of the all teammates who made such a trip possible. Mendenhall, Bill Elstrom, Jack Porter, Eddie Hinton, Warmack, Jack Mildren. Dozens of others.
Of riding back to this part of the country on Air Force One with President Nixon, to attend the Big Shootout, the famed Texas-Arkansas game that decided the national championship.
And it’s been quite a trip since. The NFL. Success in Norman business, where the Heisman still packs a punch. Iconic status in the pantheon of Oklahoma football.
All because Steve Owens was not the least bit soft, even if he was Barry’s Boy.
