Folks have been bringing it up; stolen shamelessly from @ksumatt posting last year.
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Travis Ochs K-State/KU diary as submitted to me November 1997. No. 11 K-State beat Kansas, 48-16, on Nov. 8, 1997 in a game played in front of 43,382 at KSU Stadium in Manhattan.
Sitting in my locker with my head in my hands, I hear the roar of the crowd as the doors to the field are opened, but immediately pulled back shut. It was probably just some freshman whom wanted a quick glimpse of the excitement hovering over the field. As I went over all the signals and calls in my head, I couldn't help but be taken over by the nervous anxiety of how big this game was. “I've been through this hundreds of times,” I kept telling myself, but the fact of having KU at home for the last time in my career filled my body with fire.
I began to think back over the last few days, and slowly I started to realize that this game had been underway since the start of the week. It all started on Monday when the teacher of my first class approached me in the back of the room with an evil grin.
"You could go 1-10 this season and your fans will still love you, only if that one win is over KU," he said.
It was only 8:30 a.m., but the pressure and stress that usually didn't surface until late on Friday nights was already bubbling in my belly. All week long, on my way to class or even in class, people would come up and tell me that this game was a must because it would make their lives easier when they returned back home. Though it was the ninth week of a very long season for me, I realized this game was the beginning and the end for most of the fans.
The sound of yelling and chanting from a few of the players brought me back to the present. As I checked over my uniform one last time, I heard the referee calling for the captains to join him for the coin toss. As the five of us hit the ramp down to the field, we saw only a sea of purple and heard only the screams of excited fans. While we high-fived all of the approaching kids, we hit the field and were surrounded by cameras. But as we reached the middle of the field and the coin was in the air, all of my tension quickly faded away. They would be receiving the ball first, and that meant the defense would get its first chance at shutting down the Jayhawks. Before long it would all be over.
The ball was snapped and bodies collided. As I had the tight end locked out at full arms length, I took a peak inside, only to see the running back desperately searching for a hole to run through. Before I could even blink, Mark Simoneau and Jeff Kelly flew through the line and splattered Erik Vann all over the turf. While the whole defense celebrated as we ran off the field, the offense sprinted on, knowing they were going to get in the end zone. Just as we reached the bench and started gulping down water, Michael Bishop dropped back and threw a rocket to Darnell McDonald, who lit up the scoreboard.
Time was ticking off the clock and the game was quickly being put out of reach. I knew that before long, I would be standing on the sideline watching the remainder of the game. But just a few plays later the QB rolled out toward me and I started in a dead sprint to keep him contained. As he planted to get by me, Joe Bob Clements came out of nowhere to knock him off his feet and imbedded him into the turf. The excitement was flowing through everyone that wore purple. Not only were the fans who had been dreaming of a fifth straight win over our arch rivals crying out in joy, but for us as players a huge burden was finally relieved and another big win was chalked up. This was a season that would soon become one of the greatest in KSU football history.
Running off the field listening to the fans cheer with such pride, I realized all of this week's work and pressure didn't even compare to the feeling I had now. As the governor spoke to our team and handed us the trophy that would remain in our showcase for yet another year, my heart began to swell inside. Looking around and seeing one hundred of my closest friends, I finally understood what being part of a team was all about: It was a group of guys, from all walks of life, who were brought together by fate and who had vowed to do anything within their power for one another. In one 60-minute game, we proved to each other and a stadium full of people that when you come together as one, there is nothing that can stop you. We still had two challenges ahead of us, but for the rest of the night we could relax knowing we were the best team out on that field today.
-- Travis Ochs
Overland Park, Kan.
Kansas State linebacker (1995-1998)
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Travis Ochs K-State/KU diary as submitted to me November 1997. No. 11 K-State beat Kansas, 48-16, on Nov. 8, 1997 in a game played in front of 43,382 at KSU Stadium in Manhattan.
Sitting in my locker with my head in my hands, I hear the roar of the crowd as the doors to the field are opened, but immediately pulled back shut. It was probably just some freshman whom wanted a quick glimpse of the excitement hovering over the field. As I went over all the signals and calls in my head, I couldn't help but be taken over by the nervous anxiety of how big this game was. “I've been through this hundreds of times,” I kept telling myself, but the fact of having KU at home for the last time in my career filled my body with fire.
I began to think back over the last few days, and slowly I started to realize that this game had been underway since the start of the week. It all started on Monday when the teacher of my first class approached me in the back of the room with an evil grin.
"You could go 1-10 this season and your fans will still love you, only if that one win is over KU," he said.
It was only 8:30 a.m., but the pressure and stress that usually didn't surface until late on Friday nights was already bubbling in my belly. All week long, on my way to class or even in class, people would come up and tell me that this game was a must because it would make their lives easier when they returned back home. Though it was the ninth week of a very long season for me, I realized this game was the beginning and the end for most of the fans.
The sound of yelling and chanting from a few of the players brought me back to the present. As I checked over my uniform one last time, I heard the referee calling for the captains to join him for the coin toss. As the five of us hit the ramp down to the field, we saw only a sea of purple and heard only the screams of excited fans. While we high-fived all of the approaching kids, we hit the field and were surrounded by cameras. But as we reached the middle of the field and the coin was in the air, all of my tension quickly faded away. They would be receiving the ball first, and that meant the defense would get its first chance at shutting down the Jayhawks. Before long it would all be over.
The ball was snapped and bodies collided. As I had the tight end locked out at full arms length, I took a peak inside, only to see the running back desperately searching for a hole to run through. Before I could even blink, Mark Simoneau and Jeff Kelly flew through the line and splattered Erik Vann all over the turf. While the whole defense celebrated as we ran off the field, the offense sprinted on, knowing they were going to get in the end zone. Just as we reached the bench and started gulping down water, Michael Bishop dropped back and threw a rocket to Darnell McDonald, who lit up the scoreboard.
Time was ticking off the clock and the game was quickly being put out of reach. I knew that before long, I would be standing on the sideline watching the remainder of the game. But just a few plays later the QB rolled out toward me and I started in a dead sprint to keep him contained. As he planted to get by me, Joe Bob Clements came out of nowhere to knock him off his feet and imbedded him into the turf. The excitement was flowing through everyone that wore purple. Not only were the fans who had been dreaming of a fifth straight win over our arch rivals crying out in joy, but for us as players a huge burden was finally relieved and another big win was chalked up. This was a season that would soon become one of the greatest in KSU football history.
Running off the field listening to the fans cheer with such pride, I realized all of this week's work and pressure didn't even compare to the feeling I had now. As the governor spoke to our team and handed us the trophy that would remain in our showcase for yet another year, my heart began to swell inside. Looking around and seeing one hundred of my closest friends, I finally understood what being part of a team was all about: It was a group of guys, from all walks of life, who were brought together by fate and who had vowed to do anything within their power for one another. In one 60-minute game, we proved to each other and a stadium full of people that when you come together as one, there is nothing that can stop you. We still had two challenges ahead of us, but for the rest of the night we could relax knowing we were the best team out on that field today.
-- Travis Ochs
Overland Park, Kan.
Kansas State linebacker (1995-1998)
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