Game Day: Southlake Carroll 42, Tulsa Union 41 (OT)

Southlake Carroll head coach Hal Wasson is no riverboat gambler. He’s the cautious, steady type, perfectly happy to sit on a comfortable lead and milk the clock, rather than employ the “kill-the-will” strategy of his predecessor, the great Todd Dodge, whose philosophy was to keep scoring until the other guy was thoroughly bereft of hope.

Wasson has been criticized for his lack of aggression and his risk-aversion approach, and it has at times cost the Dragons.

That’s why the closing moments in Friday’s late-night thriller between the Dragons and the visiting Tulsa Union Redskins were so astounding.

Tied 34-34 in regulation, the score stood at 41-34 in overtime after a stunning 29-yard reception in the end zone by Union receiver Robert Thomas, who had picked apart the Dragon secondary all night, followed by a Union point after. Carroll responded with a 25-yard bolt by junior running back Lil’ Jordan Humphrey, bringing the score to 41-40.

Carroll then lined up for the point-after kick, and that’s when things got interesting.

Wasson called a timeout and gestured his kicking team off the field. When the Dragons returned to play, it was clear Carroll was going for the win, not for the tie and another round of OT.

That, in itself, was shocking, and so un-Wasson-like that some of us began jabbering incoherently. But when Humphrey, and not ace quarterback Ryan Agnew, lined up behind the center, we all knew we were entering unfamiliar territory.

Carroll was about to run a wildcat play? I had never seen such a thing. No one had. It was unthinkable. But there it was.

Humphrey took the snap, rolled to his left, and we all held our breath for his expected turn toward the goal line. Then we noticed senior wide receiver Parker Fentriss coming left to right in front of Humphrey, who flipped him the ball. Fentriss kept rolling right and then lobbed the ball to Agnew, who was standing all alone in the end zone.

Two-point conversion. 42-41 Dragons. Game over.

Stunned, I had to wait for the replay on Jerry’s Jumbotron to confirm what I had seen. Sure enough, there was the trick play that Wasson had approved, executed flawlessly by Carroll’s key playmakers, who had only seconds to prepare mentally for a play that reportedly was added on the day before the game.


(Now here's the delicious part: The Star Telegram points out that it was the exact same play that Dodge-coached Austin Westlake attempted against the Dragons last week. It says Wasson was so taken with it that he decided to add to the Dragon playbook! You gotta love this stuff.)


The Union-Carroll contest will go down in Dragon lore as one of the team’s half-dozen or so classic contests, right up there with its 2006 playoff win against Trinity and the 2009 double-overtime win against Allen.

Everyone knew that Union, a perennial state contender in Oklahoma, was going to be a tough nut to crack and so it was. Its offense, helmed by senior quarterback Mason Farquhar, pressed Carroll’s sturdy defense to the limit all night.

When Union pulled ahead of the Dragons 27-17 in the fourth quarter, the grinding of teeth could be heard all across our side of Cowboys Stadium. But the Dragons fought back, eventually tying the game at 27. But with less than three minutes left, standout Union running back Tyler Adkins, a tough, straight-ahead bruiser, crashed three yards to the end zone and brought the score to 34-27. Then with time drifting toward a minute, Agnew connected nine yards to WR Zach Farrar, setting up the OT showdown.

Adkins, who is a junior for heaven’s sake, shredded the Dragon’s D-line, rolling to 192 yards on 27 carries and four TDs. Do the math: That’s more than 7 yards per carry and, trust me, it seemed like more when you watched him in real time.

Meanwhile, Farquhar passed for 252 yards, completing 23 of 32 passes. His favorite target was the afore-mentioned Thomas, who caught 15 passes for 183 yards and one TD in regulation.

For the Dragons, questions remain on offense. The beleaguered O-line, which allowed Agnew to be sacked seven times last week against Austin Westlake, faired somewhat better this week. Even so, Agnew completed only 54 percent of his passes (20 of 37 for 295 yards), a paltry outcome when compared to his success rate last year.

Union’s burly front line sacked him three times and forced him to scramble frequently when he should have been working his progressions and finding open receivers. Even more alarmingly, Union’s Big Guys held Agnew, who last year arguably was more of a threat with his feet than with his arm, to negative 43 yards on 14 carries.

The porous shield wall that protects Agnew and opens running lanes for him and his talented running backs must be plugged and quickly. Carroll’s next two games are with Midland Lee and Abilene, with a bye week in between. It should have few problems in handling both squads before it enters tough-as-nails District 7-6A play. Perhaps that three-week stretch will give its young O-line some time to jell, mature and just get better.

Humphrey was the rushing leader for Carroll, carrying 23 times for 162 yards and three TDs. Fentriss was Agnew’s chief target, nabbing seven throws for 159 yards.

It’s a long road trip next week for the Dragons. They travel west across the dusty plains to oil-rich Midland to face the Lee High Rebels, who Carroll whipped handily not once but twice last year. Six hours on Interstate 20 to watch a likely blowout? Hmm. Tough call.

Game Day: Southlake Carroll 17, Austin Westlake 14

Todd Dodge didn’t get the victory he wanted when he came to Dragon Stadium last Friday with his Austin Westlake Chaparrals. But he came damned close, and he left Southlake with the immense satisfaction, I suspect, of knowing that his determined lads scared the bejeezus out of the Dragons and their coaches.

It started badly for the Dragons and didn’t get a whole lot better after that. After receiving the opening kickoff, senior quarterback Ryan Agnew, working behind a young, inexperienced and – as the night would demonstrate – outclassed offensive line, could manage nothing better than a sputtering three-and-out.

It then took the Chaps only four plays to march smartly to the end zone.

The shellshocked Dragons never were able to establish an offensive rhythm. Agnew scrambled all night and never had the chance to establish timing with his new batch of receivers. He completed 11 of 18 passes for only 100 yards and was picked off twice. Those aren’t the kind of stats we expect from the supremely talented Agnew.

But the offensive problems didn’t stop there. The O-line couldn’t deal with Westlake’s swarming defensive line, failing to open rushing lanes for junior running back Lil’ Jordan Humphrey, who is poised to have a stellar year. Instead, Humphrey, a 6-1 speedster who has bulked up over the summer, managed only 76 yards on 12 carries. Even the slippery Agnew, a skilled scrambler who gave D-linemen fits last season, was held to only 92 yards on 21 carries.

As a result, the Dragons could only manage a field goal by Jake Oldroyd in the first half.

Thankfully, the Dragon’s defensive squad, led by tackle King Newton and safety Andy Chelf, stepped up big time, shutting down the Chaps’ offensive firepower after their initial heroics until late in the fourth quarter.

In the critical third quarter, Agnew and Humphrey managed a rushing touchdown apiece, and that was enough to ensure a Dragon victory. But not before some last-minute histrionics by the Chaps, who staged a vintage Dodge-inspired rally that kept Dragon fans’ stomachs in knots until the final seconds.

A late score brought Westlake to within three points, 17-14, and everyone knew what was coming next. Despite the inevitability of the on-side kick, the Chaps managed to recover it, and moans were heard in my section of the home stands. But the Dragons’ Big Guys kept a lid on things and Westlake was held outside field-goal range.

Todd Dodge has reason to feel good about his young squad, which faces a tough district that includes powerhouse Lake Travis. He has a talented bunch of kids who fought hard and never quit. And it goes without saying that they are well coached. Don’t be surprised if they do well down Austin way, and make some noise in the playoffs.

As for the Dragons, defensive coordinator Tim Wasson has some work to do with the O-line, which needs to come together quickly to give Agnew both time to find his receivers and openings he can slice through to daylight.

If it doesn’t, this could be a very long season in District 7-6A for the Dragons, who meet Oklahoma’s Tulsa Union on Friday at Cowboys Stadium. The problem with being considered one of the best programs in Texas, and that means the country at large, is that you must defend that reputation every Friday night.

What a way to open the season

His name still is mentioned with reverence in the watering holes and backyard patios of Southlake.

Todd Dodge, the coaching legend who led the Carroll Dragons to five straight state championship games between 2002-2006, winning four and compiling a stunning 79-1 record, is coming home Friday. Sort of.

Dodge, the brand-new coach of the Austin Westlake Chaparrals, will be welcomed with cheers and probably a standing ovation when he appears on the opposing sideline.

Then the cheers will fade, and it’ll be time for the admiring Dragons to dismantle the Chaps and send Dodge back to Austin with a stinging rebuke on his debut as Westlake coach.

At least that’s the way Dragon fans would like to script the game. Dodge, who knows the Dragons’ offensive and defensive schemes better than any other foe they’ve faced, would like to write things differently.

We’ll see. Regardless, it’s likely to be a wonderful show, the perfect way to start a new season of Texas high school football and a new era for Southlake Carroll.

As a result of last winter’s UIL realignment, the Dragons’ new district, 7-6A, could very well be the state’s toughest. Some have even referred to it as the “little SEC.” It includes, believe it or not, both the Euless Trinity Trojans, who the Dragons have faced in three legendary playoff games since 2006, and the Coppell Cowboys, their blood enemies for more than four decades.

District 7-6A also includes Colleyville Heritage, a perennial playoff team that has never defeated the Dragons, and L.D. Bell, another playoff regular who greatly covets, and probably deserves, more respect that it receives.

Unlike the last few years, the Dragons are not the favorites to win district. That designation goes to the Trojans, who have won 59 consecutive district games and eight straight titles. In the statewide AP poll, Trinity ranks 5, followed by Carroll at 6. It’s going to be that kind of year.

The two teams’ playoff battles have resulted in one win and two defeats for the Dragons, but they all have been epic, back-and-forth struggles with the outcome uncertain until the final minutes. Moving such games inside district play will not change the dynamics, but it could interfere with the mutual admiration the Trojans and Dragons have shared over the years.

District rivalries can be intense and the animosities generated long-running. Take Coppell, for instance.  It and Southlake have been bitter district rivals off and on for many years, from the days the two schools fielded small 3A programs to recent years when they have battled in the top category. The hated Cowboys are one of only three teams to whip the Dragons on their home field since Dragon Stadium was built in 2001. Make no mistake, there is bad blood between these two.

Which brings us back to Westlake. The last time the Dragons and Chaparrals faced each other was in the 2006 state championship game in the Alamodome. Southlake, coached by Dodge and led on the field by his son, Riley, whipped Westlake handily, 43-29.

Friday night looks to be no different. Westlake has a new coach – a legend, yes, but one still finding his sea legs at a new school – a squad depleted of returning starters and a sophomore quarterback playing in his first varsity game.

The Dragons, on the other hand, have returning quarterback Ryan Agnew, who rolled up 4,500 yards in total offense last season, including 1,250 on the ground. He ran for 20 touchdowns and threw for another 31. The Star Telegram reports the senior powerhouse already has six D-I offers, and he could garner more if he has the kind of season the Dragons need him to have. He is the key.

Missing from last year’s potent offensive attack are experienced receivers. WR Parker Fentriss, sidelined by injury most of last season, likely will be Agnew’s chief target. In addition, defensive back Tariq Gordon could be pulled into double duty as a part-time receiver. Kevin Lonnquist of the Star-Telegram reports that head coach Hal Wasson compares Gordon to two-way phenom Sabian Holmes, a hero of the Dragons’ last state championship team.

The Dragon running game will be in the hands of juniors Lil’ Jordan Humphrey, who ain’t little at all, and Grant McFarlin, who is.  Humphrey’s height – he grew 3 inches over the summer, have led some armchair observers (ahem) to observe he might serve time in the receiving corps. But he also added muscle in the off-season so he is primed to exceed the 600 yards rushing he compiled last year.

The defense returns five starters, including standout tackle King Newton. The Star-Telegram’s Lonnquist says Wasson is pleased with the progress of senior inside linebackers Clark Parr and Joel McClellan. At safety, Andy Chelf rolled up 100 tackles last year and leads the secondary.

Meanwhile, an offensive line low on experience remains a question mark. In the superheated competition the Dragons will face both in pre-district and district play, its progress will determine early Dragon success and its ultimate fate in what undoubtedly will be the state’s showcase district race.

Meanwhile, there’s a lot at stake in tomorrow’s contest for the two head coaches.

 Dodge now works in the district where his father-in-law was head coach and athletic director for many years. In fact, the Chaps’ stadium is named after him. The pressure is on Dodge to prove his phenomenal run in Southlake wasn’t a fluke. He would love to silence his critics who point out that he enjoyed a mediocre coaching career in the years before and after his Carroll tenure. A victory over his former team would be a good start on that redemptive road.

Wasson, on the other hand, has enjoyed great success in Southlake, compiling an envious 79-15 record as he enters his eighth season here and winning a state championship in 2011. But he doesn’t enjoy the immense popularity of his predecessor, with parents or with his players. A stumble against his former boss, for whom he coached before moving to Keller Fossil Ridge in 2004, and a rugged start in the new district could start the clock ticking against him, rightly or wrongly.

Kickoff is at 7:30 p.m. The game is a sellout.

The meaning of it all

Forty years ago today, Richard Nixon became the first American president to resign from office, thus ending a shameful period of American history when the president of the United States betrayed his oath of office and attempted to cover up crimes committed in his name and with his approval.

During that bitter final summer of Watergate, I was a cub reporter at the Lubbock Avalanche Journal, covering night cops. I hated the beat and I hated Lubbock. Feeling trapped and isolated, I used the gripping drama of Nixon’s fall from grace as a welcome distraction.

The year before, I had watched the televised Senate Watergate hearings with college friends, drinking beer while cheering the good guys and tossing an occasional empty can at the bad guys.

Watergate was the national soap opera running in the background for most of my college career. In the summer of 1972, only a few weeks after the Watergate break-in, I was an editor on the North Texas Daily when it became the first student newspaper in the country to call for Nixon’s resignation. Most of us believed even then that Nixon had a hand in orchestrating the burglary.  As evidence mounted, we felt a delicious surge of vindication and triumph.

So as the long, hot summer of 1974 neared its end, the finale of the Nixonian saga also came into view.

On the day before his resignation, when rumors were flying that Nixon was bailing, several of us on the A-J night shift went to our favorite watering hole after work, getting to the upstairs bar of the Brookshire Inn a little after midnight.  The late Austin singer/songwriter Allen Damron was performing, and the joint was jumping.

The crowd was in a celebratory mood, and Damron played to it, never mentioning Nixon by name but crafting an upbeat set full of songs that celebrated subversive behavior and taking it to The Man. Nixon would have hated it, but we embraced it with wild abandon. The last song of the night was a rousing rendition of Woody Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land.” All of us were standing on chairs and on tables, clapping, stomping our feet and singing full-throatedly along with Damron.

 It was an amazing, spontaneous outpouring of emotion, fueled by alcohol and by the prospect for many of us that the hated Nixon – the man who had lied about his “secret” plan to end the Vietnam War, who had compiled an Enemies List that included almost every person we respected and admired, who lied about Watergate and tried to subvert an election, who held in utter contempt a generation of idealistic young people who sought to end war and extend equal rights to all, a vile, vulgar and odious villain – was headed for oblivion and perhaps, eventually, jail.

The next day, Aug. 8, Nixon did indeed announce his intention to resign in an evening speech to the nation in which he listed his accomplishments, admitted vaguely to some mistakes and steadfastly refused to admit wrongdoing. His successor, Gerald Ford, spoke for many of us when he said, “The nation’s long national nightmare is over.”

Later that night, we decided to make a return trip to the Brookshire, where Damron still was playing. If last night was wild, we wondered, what will tonight be like?

What a difference a day makes.

When we arrived, the bar was mostly empty, a few patrons sitting quietly and nursing their drinks, heads down and only half listening to Damron, whose songs fit the somber and low-key vibe. Lots of sad, moody ballads, full of shattered dreams and heartbreak. Once again, Nixon never was mentioned. But the full measure of his betrayal seemed to have settled over his countrymen like a shroud, and the good folks of Lubbock, Texas, were not exempt.

Damron, a wise and perceptive performer, understood his role that night was less to entertain and more to soothe and comfort. He ended the night with several stirring songs about country and family and keeping the faith, nothing overt but all vaguely patriotic. Then we got up and went home to contemplate the meaning of it all.

Some words before you go

It’s traditional, is it not, for the father to offer some pearls of wisdom to his son before he packs his bags for college and the rest of his life?

In my own case, it was my taciturn father, a man of few words and carefully guarded emotions, slipping five $20 bills in my hand and telling me, “Find yourself an honest mechanic to work on your car. It’ll save you a lot of money.”

I took his advice and, over the years, I’ve come to treasure honest tradesmen of all stripes. I also took the money, using it, I’m almost certain, to purchase beer within hours of arriving on campus. At the time, I considered the cash the more practical, and thoughtful, gift. More than 40 years down the road, and thousands of dollars in car repairs later, I’m not so sure.

So with that in mind, I offer my own, more expanded, advice to my son, Ethan, who departs soon for the University of North Texas. The thoughts below represent hard-earned wisdom. I’ll leave it to him to decide whether he accepts any of it or simply takes the money and runs.

•  Learn how to listen to women. This is much more important than learning how to talk to them, which you think you already know how to do. If you’re a good listener, and know the right questions to ask and when, you’ll be surprised how many women will become your friends. That’s because the more you listen to women, the more you understand them and the more interesting you become to them. (Shockingly, that’s something most guys don’t understand.) Don’t worry, the dating part will work itself out. But the real payoff will be a lot of good female friends. Here’s something you’ll find out quickly: They’re more complicated and, thus, more interesting than guys.
• Don’t lock yourself into a field of study too soon. You’re at a university, for God’s sake. Look around, poke your head into places you haven’t thought about. Dabble in areas that pique your interest. You may find a passion you didn’t know you had. The important thing is not to limit yourself. A friend of mine tried out seven majors before deciding on English and pursuing a journalism career. That’s a true college experience: An exploration that ends in discovery. Don’t sell your future short by approaching college with tunnel vision.
• Go to class. All of them. Even the ones you don’t like. Because not everything is supposed to be fun. You’ve got to experience the bad to appreciate the good. Remember, some days are diamonds and some days are stone. Discipline – shouldering through the bullshit – is a trait that brings success and enlightenment. It’s one of the few things that does. It will not always bring joy – at least not in the short run. But in life, you have to take the broad view, the one that peeks over the existing horizon to discover what comes next. Even the classes you don’t like can prepare you for What Comes Next.
• Seek out advice you know you’re not going to like.  And listen to opinions with which you don’t agree. Don’t live in an echo chamber, surrounded by people who think like you do and believe what you believe. Make decisions after you have all the facts, not just the ones you like or want to believe. The world is a big, complex place in which change is constant and quick. In five years, you’re not going to believe in the things you presently hold sacred. Keep an open mind. Don’t hold on to bad ideas whose time has expired.
• Control your anger. Once you lose your temper, you’ve lost the argument, even if it appears you won it. Yes, anger scares people and makes them back away. But it also breeds suspicion and distrust and creates unnecessary enemies. Don’t be a slave to your emotions. Anger can end an argument. Logic, calm reasoning and a well-organized presentation of the facts can win it. Beware: Anger clouds the mind and causes lapses in judgment. It’s OK to care deeply about things, but keep a cool head and remember the old adage, “Revenge is a dish best served cold.”
• Embrace diversity, difference, disharmony. These are the natural state of affairs and not to be feared. They make life interesting and force us out of ourselves, out of our tight network of comfort, to confront the dazzling chaos of the world. The  key to thriving in such an environment is to figure out who you are, what you stand for. Only you can decide that. Not your friends, not your Mom and me – you. Who are you, Ethan Gunnels? And what are you about? It’s OK if you’re not quite sure. The discovery of self is an important part of what college is about.
• Stop worrying about being cool. Here’s how Dr. Seuss put it: “Be who you are and say what you feel. Because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.” Most of us live in fear of being judged unworthy or foolish by those around us. That immobilizing fear causes us to build a wall of cool aloofness as protection from scorn, ridicule or just indifference. Gut it up and tear down the wall. Live your life as it should be lived: Open to the possibilities and undaunted by the consequences.
• You always have a place to go for love and nourishment. Or just a quiet place to hide for a bit. And do laundry. Robert Frost said, “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”  For you, Ethan, that’s the two-story red-brick house at the top of the hill in northwest Grapevine. You have the key. Come anytime.

 

A friend's passing

The news was expected, but no less painful. Joseph A. McAnally, a friend of mine for more than 40 years, died July 6 after a courageous battle with cancer.

He was an American original, an independent thinker of the first order, a man who marched to the beat of his own drum, who refused to graze with the rest of the herd, who followed his own code.

We met at the University of North Texas in the early 1970s. I was green as grass, a transfer student from West Texas and much younger than my 20 years would indicate. Mac was older, a veteran of the U.S. Air Force who had seen the world, who knew things that many of us didn’t. He was cool, in a natural, unforced way, and could be incredibly charming when it suited him. It didn’t suit him often. Mostly, he was irascible, sarcastic and impatient with fools, who abounded then, as now.

If he was your friend, you could have none more fiercely loyal or more dependable. If you were his enemy, you might not know it until the moment of truth when such knowledge came too little, too late.

We became friends in a way that seems silly and inconsequential today. But to UNT journalism students back in the spring of 1972, the selection of North Texas Daily editor was an issue of paramount importance. I was running for fall editor against a popular current editor who wanted another shot at the job. She was a senior who had attended all four years at UNT and was well respected by the faculty. I was a junior college transfer at the end of only my second semester at UNT. It seemed then to be a Goliath versus David contest.

Mac McAnally was finishing his second year at UNT and greatly coveted a job on the student newspaper staff, which was selected by the incoming editor. His best bet at the time would have been to throw in his lot with my opponent, or at very least to stay on the sidelines and wait for a winner.

Instead, Mac publicly endorsed me, a snub that my opponent was unlikely to forget – or forgive. I told him at the time, “Mac, are you sure you want to do this?” Truth be told, I was immensely grateful for his support. He and a colleague had been standout sophomore reporters for the paper, and their endorsement of me had lifted my candidacy considerably.

“Gunnels,” he replied, “I give us no better odds than 50-50, but what the hell?” Such are the ways that heterosexual males expressed affection in those by-gone days. His gamble forged a strong friendship, and it paid off for both of us. I became editor the next fall, and Mac was the first person I hired for my staff. He followed me as editor soon after.

As I said, it was a minor incident, barely a hiccup in both our lives. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot today. And I believe it’s useful in coloring in the essentials of what kind of man Mac was.

He was a man who evaluated things with a dispassionate focus you might be tempted to explain away as cold-bloodedness and disinterest. But Mac was passionate about the things he loved. He had strong beliefs that he could defend, when he wished, with a withering intellect that swept his opponents before him. To family and friends, he was a stalwart ally and a trusted confidant. To them, he occasionally lowered his guard a bit to let them see the man behind the façade.

When he left North Texas, he became a public relations expert, first for the Air Force and later for the VA. He handled media relations when the deposed Shah of Iran arrived at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio after fleeing the revolution in his country. Mac was the trusted counsel of generals far and wide. His guiding principle: Tell the truth and let the cards fall where they may. Because in the end, the truth wins out. Always. Those who failed to follow his advice learned their mistake quickly and brutally.

When I entered the PR field myself, I would get regular emails from Mac full of war stories and advice. The stories were colorful and eye-opening, the advice practical and valuable. I shall miss those emails very much.

If he had wished, Mac could have written one hell of a book about his military PR experiences. It would have been a page-turner full of wisdom and amusing tales. His untimely death has robbed us of that – and of his unique personality and insight.

The last time I saw Mac was several months ago at a North Texas Daily reunion in Denton. He was terribly thin and looked tired. I was shocked but not surprised when he told me about the cancer and the dismal prognosis. Characteristically, he talked matter-of-factly about the limited treatment options. When we shook hands to leave, I knew in my gut it was for the last time.

Into “the convulsion of the world”

When my son leaves for college in a few weeks, he’ll travel roughly 25 miles up the road to Denton, a short 35-minute drive from the house he’s lived in all his life.

Why, then, does it seem like an immeasurable gulf is looming between him and his parents?

Ethan is raring to go. Truth is, he was ready for the departure months and months ago. He’s a quiet kid, doesn’t say much around folks he doesn’t completely trust, which for the past several years have included his father and mother. But I look at him and I see someone living on the edge of his seat, itchy to get on with it, to get started on the next phase of his life, to do it now.

I remember the feeling. I was a stranger in my parents’ house for years before I loaded my ’63 Dodge Polaris with everything I cared about and left for college. My parents had pressured me to attend the local community college to save money, so by the time I made my break, I was vibrating with anticipation. I knew when I pulled away from the curb that I’d never be back except for school holidays.

Mindful of that, I’ve tried to put myself in my son’s shoes, to consider things from his perspective, to give him the space to discover himself that my parents unthinkingly never gave me. I’d like to avoid, if I can, instilling in him the deep-seated,  mostly hidden anger I felt when I finally – dear God, finally – got the hell out of West Texas and said “Howdy” to world beyond.

I think I’ve succeeded in that. I’d like to believe that a lifetime as a professional journalist has given me some insight into human nature. But who the hell knows what’s really going on behind my son’s brooding eyes or what the meaning is in the twisted smile he carries on his face most of the time?

Perhaps he really means it when he throws his arm around my shoulders and tells me he loves me. Surely I can’t be fooled about that. Can I? Perhaps he’s only playing a little game with his old man, telling me what I want to hear while he plots his get-away.

Regardless, I hope, as all parents in this situation do, that his mother and I have managed to drill some valuable life lessons through his thick skull. Where could this kid have gotten his stubbornness? I don’t have a clue.

Thankfully, he has a good heart, and he’s a kind and generous person when he occasionally lowers the shield of aloofness and coolness with which he protects himself. He lacks much empathy, it’s true, but what 18-year-old doesn’t? And I wish he weren’t such a slob, although I vaguely remember being a slovenly wretch too at his age. Perhaps he will grow out of it or, more likely, fall for a girl who won’t put up with it.

Lord, I still remember the knot of excitement and anxiety that filled my stomach on the day I left for North Texas State University. I may have leaked a tear or two as I watched Big Spring grow smaller and smaller in my rear-view mirror.

Mostly, my gaze was directed straight ahead, into the future, my future, into what Robert Penn Warren called in the closing lines of his great novel, All the King’s Men,  “the convulsion of the world, out of history into history and the awful responsibility of Time.”

Shortly, when I consign my youngest into the “convulsion of the world,” I’ll have another knot in my stomach, I’m sure. This time it won’t be fueled by excitement and anxiety, but by deep sorrow. I will try to hide that from my son, who will be oblivious, as he should be, to the pain his departure poses for his mother and father.

He will be focused, as I was so many years ago, on the horizon before him, on the history he must write for himself, on the life he must build on his own. Eagerly and without fear, he must confront – as I did and countless other departing sons and daughters have – “the awful responsibility of Time.”