Billy Schott
TLSN oral history is sponsored by the Austin based law firm of MBFC. Contact John Carsey at jcarsey@mbfc.com
Author and Professor Larry Carlson thinks that Billy Schott should supplant the present most interesting man in the world.
But that I ain’t going to happen! Still, Billy has had a fascinating Longhorn life, and he deserves to be celebrated by the Longhorn Nation for his burnt orange passion. Indeed, Billy Schott has a significant Longhorn fan base following who are like “We’re not worthy” Wayne and Garth.
Click on the the link below to hear the oral history of Billy Schott.
“Sure” Schott Is Kickin’
by Larry Carlson ( lc13@txstate.edu )
The joie de vivre, the ol’ joy of life. Why is it so elusive for some, and so effortless for others?
Billy “Sure” Schott, former Longhorn placekicker (1972-74), seemingly was born into the latter, exuberant camp, even attending a Longhorn football game with his Daddy the same week he was born in the autumn of 1952. When I visited with my old amigo for some TLSN Oral History recently, I started the show by citing Billy as the real version of “The Most Interesting Man In The World,” immortalized by an imposter in a long-running commercial campaign for beer.
If he hasn’t quite toured the seven continents, Schott has gone his own way in life, and it always seems to be somewhere close to a football field. If not, the place du jour will have palm trees and margaritas. Key West has been the go-to vacation spot for Billy and wife, Cindy, for years. It fits. Schott is a guy who intensely embraces laughter and laid-back living.
Being a fun-loving guy has not meant Schott ever spent much time sitting around.
He was a Longhorn ball-boy, water-boy and purveyor of towels as a kid. He played for state championship teams at Austin’s Reagan High, then followed his dream by accepting a scholarship to kick for the University of Texas.
As a Longhorn, Billy was an ultra-reliable kicker. Hence the nickname, “Sure” Schott. He played on Darrell Royal’s last two Cotton Bowl squads and a Gator Bowl team. As a soph, Billy’s educated toe provided the winning margin when Texas took down Alabama, 17-13, on New Year’s Day. Talk to Billy about that one, as we recently did in TLSN’s Oral History, and you’ll learn about his special connection to Bear Bryant, dating back to Schott’s days as a tyke.
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“Billy Dale,I enjoyed the article on Tony Crosby. We spent four enjoyable years at UT together. The article fails to mention what made Tony so unique as a place kicker.True, he kicked without a shoe, but he didn’t address the ball with his toe like all other straight-on kickers of the day (or with his instep like the soccer-style kickers do now).Tony was able to get quicker height on his placement kicks because he turned up his toes and impacted the football with what is commonly called the “ball” of the foot. (For podiatrists I would say he impacted the ball with the sole of the foot approximately where the phalanges — the toe bones— and the metatarsals are connected.)One of my jobs as student manager on game day was getting the kickoff and placement tees on and off the field. My freshman year I also had to keep up with David Kristynik’s kicking shoe — which had the toe box cut out so he could impact the ball with his bare toes.A bit of irony about Tony. We managers spent a lot of practice time retrieving footballs that were kicked from the practice field into the “jungle” surrounding Waller Creek— and from the creek itself I caught poison ivy more than once.So we were really glad when a young, enthusiastic kid came out every day and retrieved the balls for Tony. The kid was learning while he was watching. The “kid” was Billy Schott, who earned the nickname “Sure Shot” when he wound up as the placement specialist for DKR’s last two Cotton Bowl squads and a Gator Bowl team.Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.”
I met Billy back in the fall of ’77 when I was in my first season of hosting the post-game Longhorn Locker Room show as sports director at an Austin radio station. He was fresh off two years as a grad assistant for the Horns and had been kicking in the Houston Oilers camp. We instantly hit it off and started swapping tales — he had a lot more good ones than I — and seeking out spicy enchiladas and tacos at a tiny dive called Chef Lupe’s after attending football practices. Billy’s artful storytelling frequently led to an abundance of jokes and chuckles and regularly guided us to happy hour refreshments. “Sure” Schott seemed to know everybody in Austin and certainly was friendly with all the folks on the Forty Acres. It was a magical fall, with an 11-0 regular season for UT and a Heisman for Earl Campbell. I was grateful that Billy’s contacts were now mine.
In the coming years, Schott would keep pursuing football dreams. “I’ve been in more NFL camps than Gatorade,” he would often say, laughing. He would go on to coach high school ball, referee high school games, serve as UT’s Equipment Manager in the early ’90s and become involved in more officiating with the Canadian Football League and in college football, where he has continued to serve as a TV Timeout “Red Hat” coordinator.
If it has to do with football, count Billy in. As a consultant to the Friday Night Lights TV series, he became fast friends with some stars of the show. His background enabled him to advise Kyle “Coach Eric Taylor” Chandler on how to behave like a Texas high school coach. On camera, Schott even played a ref who ejected a steamed Coach Taylor from a game. A few years later, Schott tutored the producers and actors working on “My All American,” the Hollywood movie based on Billy’s friend, legendary Longhorn Freddie Steinmark. Here, he coached up Aaron Eckhart (in the role of DKR) as to how Coach Darrell Royal might react in various situations. Schott, as a high schooler, had been in victorious UT locker rooms following the monumental “Big Shootout” in Fayetteville, and when Steinmark, his leg amputated three weeks earlier, inspirationally showed up on crutches to aid the Horns in their triumph over Notre Dame. Billy was there that classic Cotton Bowl day as Steinmark’s sideline guardian, holding Royal’s jacket.
When I prepared to host TLSN’s Oral History with Schott, I knew we’d need ten more episodes to squeeze in half the stories. Sure enough, when the producer gave me the “wrap it up” signal, I had let us run over our normal time limit. And we had barely nicked the surface of the legend of the Most Interesting Man In The World. So many tales to tell.
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“Billy had the greatest concentration of any kicker alive. He never let the crowd or any other interference take away from his laser like concentration. I was also on the kicking team as an outside blocker so I saw him in the huddle before each kick. I think if someone had asked him his name in the huddle he would have answered “right through the middle”! ”
Once last summer when I heard from Billy, he was in Key West. You could hear the beam in his smile through the phone, He said he was getting set to meet his longtime buddy, Coach Mike Leach, at a noted watering hole. “Guess my liver’ll get tested,” Billy cracked. Not all his rowdy friends have settled down. Hemingway’s ghost is likely envious.
The burnt orange-blooded good guy is always telling anecdotes, collecting more of them, meeting up with old friends, and making new ones. Plenty of fun to be had, more water, and knowledge to dive into, For Billy Schott, every day is the first day of summer.
It’s all a revolving seven-day weekend. School is out but the pleasure of ongoing education is never at recess. Billy “Sure” Schott is still kicking around. It’s good.
“SURE” SCHOTT IS KICKIN’
BY LARRY CARLSON ( LC13@TXSTATE.EDU )
Professor, Writer, Storyteller, and author Larry Carlson
My job as webmaster is to tell you the rest of the story of the most interesting and humorous man in the world.
Here Goes!
Billy Schott’s as a player says I once summoned up the nerve and asked Mr. Jim for a “new” pair of socks because I could read a newspaper through the heels of the ones I had been issued a couple of seasons before. He made some sort of growling, guttural sound, held the socks up to the light, threw one back to me and grabbed another from a box below the window, and shoved it toward me. It was worse than the one he kept. Had to pay a visit to Rooster and stock up on a few new pairs.
A special moment captured by student Manager Roy Jones about Tony Crosby is at link https://www.texaslsn.org/new-page-85 and Billy Schott.
10.12.2012 | Football Bill Little commentary: Run it again
Bill Little, Texas Media Relations
It hasn’t changed. The fabled “tunnel” from whence the players and coaches enter remains the same, as if waiting for the entrance of the gladiators into the coliseum.
The players, however, will remember the tunnel, the arena, and the unequaled atmosphere. …..They know that in practice you can “run it again.” But in this game, you do not get “do-overs.” It is an extended moment in time, where the re-runs come on television, and the memories stay for a lifetime.
David McWilliams says that “running down the ramp at the Cotton Bowl, that’s a larger-than-life experience that sticks with every player who takes part in the border war.” McWilliams continues “when you walk onto that field there is a force field of electricity.” “You actually visualize streams of electrical current coming off the field. You feel like you’re walking a foot off the ground. “ End of Bill Littles’s comments.
Remembering the Tunnel
In the book Game of my Life, Donnie Little shares his experience walking down the tunnel. He said, “Going down the tunnel definitely gives you goosebumps. You’ve got people on one side, screaming and calling you the worse names, and the other half is cheering for you. You definitely want to show up. You didn’t want to have a lackluster performance. If you could play every game with the kind of intensity you have against Oklahoma, you’d be an All-American. …. On a good day, I could have thrown the ball 60 yards. When you come through the tunnel, and you are out there warming up, I could have thrown it 70 yards.”
In 100 Things..…… Jenna McEachern states that Pat Culpepper likened smiling to the cameras during pre-game introductions to “laughing before you land at Iwo Jima.”
At the heart of it, however, are the players. Keith Moreland, who played both football and baseball at Texas and spent 13 years in the Major Leagues, once said of this game, “I have stood at home plate in the World Series, and it was a great moment. But nothing compares to that feeling you have when you run out of that tunnel into that stadium.”
Perhaps that is because the ghosts of games past make that field a hallowed space. More likely, however, it is the showcase of pride and togetherness that only the ultimate definition of the word “team” can produce.
You play games for fun. But there is no greater feeling than playing for and with each other, especially when it translates into accomplishment. And it is in that space where Texas-Oklahoma thrives, not only for today’s events but also for tomorrow’s memories.
From What it Means to be a Longhorn by Bill Little Coach Pat Patterson says to Doug English about the tunnel ” No place for a timid man, is it?”
DKR Played In The Series As An OU Player And The Texas Coach. His Comment In The Book “Darrell Royal Dance With Who Brung Ya ” By Mike Jones And Edited By Dan Jenkins Adds Even More Perspective To Billy Schott’s Great Article. DKR Says, “The Thing About The Texas-OU Game – Then And In All The Ones I Was Involved In – Was That Both Sides Went On The Field Knowing They Were Going To Get Their Fanny Kicked.” “The Only Question Was Going To Be Who Won. Win Or Lose, The Players Knew They Would “Get Beaten And Bruised.”
BILLY SCHOTT’S ARTICLE THE “TUNNEL”
Billy Schott, BS ‘83, A Former Longhorn Placekicker And Wide Receiver, Remembers His Final Journey Through The Cotton Bowl Tunnel As A Player. Alcalde Magazine October 9th, 2014 Reprinted His Memories Of The “Tunnel”.
When You’re Given The Final Word From The TV Guy To Leave The Locker Room And Head Down The Short Flight Of Steps To The Top Of The Tunnel, You Step Out Into A Surreal, Confusing World Of Childish Taunts And Many An Inverted Hook ’Em Being Hurled From The Walkway Above. Stadium Security Personnel In Cheap Windbreakers And Several Members Of The Dallas Police Department Man The Long, Tarp-Covered Gate Behind You. You Recognize A Couple Of The Motorcycle Cops That Led The Police Escort Through The Streets Of Dallas A Couple Of Hours Ago; An Officer Smiles As He Gives You A Quick Salute And A Hook ’Em. You Return The Salute And Mouth A Quick “Thank You” To The Officer.
You’re Told By The TV Guy To Wait At The Top Of The Ramp. There’s No Breeze—It’s Hot.
Someone Steps Out Of A Black Limo Just Outside The Gate And Is Quickly Escorted By Texas DPS Troopers Through The Gathering And Hurried Down The Ramp. Must Be The Governor Or A Senator Or Willie—You Can’t Really See Over The Glare Of All The Glistening White Helmets Shining In The October Sunshine.
The Smell Of Diesel Fumes, Horse Crap, And Fried Food Wafts Through The Air Mingling With The Sulfur Smell Of Residue From The RUF/NEKS’ Shotguns And Smokey’s Pregame Cannon Shots. You Can Always Smell The State Fair.
The Ticketless, Orange-Clad Well-Wishers Behind The Chainlink Gate, Trying To Get A Quick Look From A Player Or Coach, Are The Only Friendly Voices You Hear At That End Of The Cotton Bowl.
“Get After ’Em, Darrell!”
“Go Horns!”
“Anybody Got A Ticket?!”
“Can I Have Your Chinstrap?”
No “OU Sucks” Chants—These Are The Days Before That Sentiment Became The Norm.
Strangely, Above The Yelling, The Dull Din Of Bus Engines, Police Motorcycles, And The Screaming Siren From A Ride Over On The Midway, You Can Hear The Clicking Of The Candy-Wrapping Machines In The Saltwater Taffy Booth Just Across The Walkway Beyond The Gate.
No “OU Sucks” Chants—These Are The Days Before That Sentiment Became The Norm.
You’ve Been Taught To Keep Your Focus, To Look Toward The Light At The Bottom Of The Tunnel As You Move Slowly Downhill. You’re Wedged So Tightly Together That Your Feet Are Barely Touching The Ribbed, Dirty Concrete Below. It’s Like You’re Slowly Floating Down The Ramp Suspended Among Your Fellow Team Members. You’re In The Shade Of The Tunnel Now, Beneath The Stomping, Screaming Sooner Fans In The South End Of The Stadium. It’s Cooler, But You’re Having Trouble Catching Your Breath.
You Can’t Help But Steal A Glance At Your Opponents As They Assemble And Begin To Move Down The Ramp On The Opposite Side. You’ve Seen Them All Through Pregame Warmups, Exchanged Subdued Good Luck Wishes To A Misguided Former High School Teammate Who Wandered Across The Red River, But Suddenly, This Instant Is Etched Forever In Your Mind. The Crimson Helmets With The White Interlocked “OU” Really Piss You Off At This Moment, And The Bile Rises In The Back Of Your Throat. You Feel Like You Might Lose Your Steak And Scrambled Eggs You Ate Four Hours Before In The Quiet Banquet Room At The Hilton Inn. You Don’t Want To Puke On Your Facemask—Or On Your Teammate’s Back.
Instead Of Letting The Remnants Of Your Pregame Meal Fly, You Choke It Back And Begin To Yell Out An Unintelligible Guttural Sound. Your Teammates Join In, And The Sound Reverberates In Your Helmet. Your Mouth Is Dry; Your Chest Is Pounding. All Of A Sudden, Your Uniform Is Too Tight. A Huge Groundswell Of Noise Engulfs You As You Move Closer To The Light, Louder And Louder. You’re Glad You Have Your Helmet On, Not Because You Think That One Of Those Over-Served, Jeering Okies Will Lob A Half-Eaten Fletcher’s Corny Dog At You, But You Feel Secure And Impervious When You Manage To Reach Your Hand Up And Snap Your Chinstrap Snugly As You Move Into The Sunlight At The Bottom Of The Ramp. You Realize Then How Much You’ve Been Sweating As The Swirling Breeze On The Floor Of The Stadium Finally Gets To The Back Of Your Neck And Cools You Ever So Slightly.
Bryan Milliard and Terry Crouch in the tunnel
You Can’t Help But Steal A Glance At Your Opponents As They Assemble And Begin To Move Down The Ramp On The Opposite Side. You’ve Seen Them All Through Pregame Warmups, Exchanged Subdued Good Luck Wishes To A Misguided Former High School Teammate Who Wandered Across The Red River, But Suddenly, This Instant Is Etched Forever In Your Mind. The Crimson Helmets With The White Interlocked “OU” Really Piss You Off At This Moment, And The Bile Rises In The Back Of Your Throat. You Feel Like You Might Lose Your Steak And Scrambled Eggs You Ate Four Hours Before In The Quiet Banquet Room At The Hilton Inn. You Don’t Want To Puke On Your Facemask—Or On Your Teammate’s Back.
Instead Of Letting The Remnants Of Your Pregame Meal Fly, You Choke It Back And Begin To Yell Out An Unintelligible Guttural Sound. Your Teammates Join In, And The Sound Reverberates In Your Helmet. Your Mouth Is Dry; Your Chest Is Pounding. All Of A Sudden, Your Uniform Is Too Tight. A Huge Groundswell Of Noise Engulfs You As You Move Closer To The Light, Louder And Louder. You’re Glad You Have Your Helmet On, Not Because You Think That One Of Those Over-Served, Jeering Okies Will Lob A Half-Eaten Fletcher’s Corny Dog At You, But You Feel Secure And Impervious When You Manage To Reach Your Hand Up And Snap Your Chinstrap Snugly As You Move Into The Sunlight At The Bottom Of The Ramp. You Realize Then How Much You’ve Been Sweating As The Swirling Breeze On The Floor Of The Stadium Finally Gets To The Back Of Your Neck And Cools You Ever So Slightly.
The Roaring Sound Echoing In Your Helmet Reaches A Crescendo As The TV Guy Tries To Hold Back Your Screaming, Snarling Teammates. You Look Around And The Sudden Reality Hits You: This Is It. This Is The Last Time You’ll Ever Experience This Feeling As A Player In What You Have Grown Up Knowing To Be The Greatest Football Contest In The Universe. You May Get A Chance To Walk The Ramp Again, But Not Wearing This Uniform, With These Guys, Against Those Guys.
Tears Well In Your Eyes, A Huge Lump Rises In Your Throat As You Begin To Hear Curses Hurled At The TV Guy To Let You Go, Just Let Us Run Out On That Crappy Turf One More Time. You Hear The TV Guy Yell Something About The World Series Game Being Nearly Over And To Hold On For Just One More Minute, And One Of Your Larger Teammates Instructs The TV Guy To Perform A Physically Impossible Task With A Baseball.
You And Your Teammates Surge Forward, Frenzied And Frothing. You Look Toward Coach Royal, Who Has Appeared Just To Your Left—He Looks To Be Alone In His Thoughts. His Jaw Is Set. He Has To Hear The Taunts Of “Traitor!” Directed His Way. You Feel More Contempt For The Red-Clad Fans Leering Over The Tunnel Walls As They Wave Red And White Pom-Poms At Your Coach’s Face. You Wish The Woman Would Fall Over The Wall As She Screams, “Darrell, You Ain’t Sheeyit!”
You Aren’t Alone.
The Swelling Noise Is Louder Than Ever, And You Get To Run Out Into That Sunlight One Last Time. You’ll Never Get To Feel This Way Again.
He Is Perturbed At The Delay. He Gives A Simple Nod, And The Human Dam Breaks. The TV Guy Is Left To Fend For Himself. He May Have Been Trampled, But You Don’t Really Care At This Point. Smokey Sounds Out A Huge Cannon Blast; A Perfect Smoke Circle Rises Above The Sweltering Field. You Imagine A Football Sailing Right Through The Center Of The White Smoke Circle As You See It Emblazoned Against The Clear, Blue North Texas Sky. You Hear The Band Playing “Texas Fight” At What Seems Like An Impossibly Fast Tempo And An Ungodly Loud Volume In Your Helmet. You Run. Your Teammates Are Jumping All Over You. You May Cry.
The Rest of the Interesting life of Billy Schott.
1) Billy “Sure” Schott is a Longhorn football legend, and later in life followed his father’s example and spent some time on the sideline as an official. who continues to live at least a part of his life on the sidelines.
Billy approached the head of Big 12 football officiating, Walt Anderson, about the designated television timeout officiating position and got the job.
Billy Schott as a College official, is in the link below :
https://www.kvue.com/video/sports/billy-schott-the-tv-timeout-official/269-833047?jwsource=cl
2) If you wonder why Billy grew Longhorns so soon in life, look no further than his father. When Billy was young, his dad would invite Longhorns over to the house for dinner. Tommy Ford was one of many.
Billy Schott says, “ Tommy Ford had many meals at our house when I was growing up and he was a great friend to me and my family. A great influence on my football career, for sure.”
3) During the Coach Mackovic years, he was the Longhorn Equipment manager and he shares that experience in his TLSN oral history.
4) Billy was hired as a consultant for the movie “My All American”, and the T.V. Series “Friday Night Lights. “
BILLY SCHOTT REMEMBERS FREDDIE STEINMARK
Billy talking to a friend says “Bower, as you know, Freddie was always a big brother to me, and his influence still surfaces in my life almost daily. When I’m asked what my greatest moment was as a Texas Longhorn football player, it’s putting the first points on Freddie’s scoreboard on the night it was dedicated to his memory on my first field goal attempt as a Longhorn. “Big Fred” had told me before the game that he hoped I’d do just that (as if I wasn’t nervous enough…????) and when Coach Royal sent me in, I knew I had to deliver for my team, but also my great friend and his family. A cherished moment I’ll carry with me…until I see Freddie again.????????????????????????”
Billy Schott is known for his work on My All-American (2015) and Friday Night Lights (2006). In Billy’s oral history he shares his story of acting as a set consultant for both.
Billy Schott’s accomplishments remind all Longhorns that his contributions to Longhorn heritage shape the present and empower the future in sports and far beyond.
Longhorn Brand Builder Billy Schott
