McCoy still big news in small town
OU vs. Texas

By George Schroeder

Published: October 3, 2006

TUSCOLA, Texas - Over at the convenience store, they're still debating the long-term impact of the new sewer system, which was installed last May. Up at the high school, they still talk about the tornado, which blew through - but thankfully, didn't touch down - a couple years back.

And then there's Colt McCoy.

To hear the good folk of the Jim Ned Valley, McCoy lassoed that twister, then rode away on it.

"He's the biggest news for a while," said Vince Lavallee, assistant principal and assistant football coach at Jim Ned High School. "Colt's pretty big for us."

And yeah, the rural legend surrounding McCoy's ascension from a Class 2A high school in West Texas to the state's highest office — Longhorns quarterback — continues to grow.

Have you heard how McCoy was born in New Mexico, but over Texas soil? How he was named Colt because it sounded cool, and, well, Texas?

Did you know that Texas' new quarterback was raised on a combination of milk and Gatorade? That he swore off strong drink — Dr Pepper — eight years ago, and hasn't slipped up since?

And what about last Memorial Day, when he and his father swam across a lake to rescue a neighbor in distress?

If it all sounds too good to be true, people here insist it's not.

"He is the real deal," says Kay Whitton, a longtime teacher at Jim Ned High.

When you hear these things, and more, you understand why folk here believe — and McCoy agrees — a simple, West Texas background more than prepared him for his new role.

The bright, corrupting lights of the big city? Please.

Do you know how McCoy celebrated his debut as Texas' first freshman quarterback to start and win a season opener since Bobby Layne in 1944? Dinner with his parents at an Austin steakhouse, followed by lights out at about 8:30 p.m.

"He's always been an early-to-bed guy," said Brad McCoy, Colt's father. "It was uncommon if he was ever out past 10 o'clock at night. He hasn't changed much from his upbringing."

Is it any wonder that, when asked Monday what he might like to do Saturday at the State Fair of Texas, Colt McCoy listed a simple pleasure?

"I just want to go out and get a corn dog," he said.

And Oklahoma in the Cotton Bowl? Who's worried about the Sooners when you've faced the Bangs Dragons?

"It's just like it is back home," McCoy said. "When you take everything away, it's still football. It's just going out there and playing the game."

Filled with mesquite and cactus, the Jim Ned Valley is nestled between craggy ridges. About 20 miles south of Abilene, U.S. 83 curves, snakes into Tuscola — and if you're not watching, slides right on out the other side.

"Did you blink?" McCoy asked a reporter when told of a recent visit.

The town, population 714, has one blinking yellow light, at the intersection of Graham and 83. On the north edge of town sits Jim Ned High School, which draws its 330 students from about 380 square miles.

"There's not a whole lot there," says Brad McCoy, the former head football coach at Jim Ned High.

Brad McCoy is referring to Tuscola, and the entire Jim Ned Independent School District. And he should know. He brought his family there a few years back for that very reason.

Beginning when Colt was in the sixth grade, his home was a 10-acre spread a few miles west of Buffalo Gap, not far from Tuscola.

Friday nights were filled with football. Saturdays and summers were spent working on the family's 1,000-acre ranch near Brownwood. Sundays were reserved for worship at the Oldham Lane Church of Christ in Abilene.

"Everybody knew everybody," Colt McCoy said. "Everybody had those strong morals, those strong beliefs. Growing up like that taught you a lot of things about life, and playing football.

"That's how I was raised, how I was grown up, with a strong family, strong beliefs, things you base your life upon."

From the very beginning, apparently.

When young Colt was born, his father was coaching just across the border in New Mexico. But heritage is important. And so, Brad McCoy drove back into Texas and scooped some dirt into a shoebox.

He carried it into that New Mexico hospital and slid it under the bed. Colt was born over Texas soil.

At least, that's how the story has been told, since long before Colt McCoy was anybody's media darling. Last week, Brad McCoy waffled just a bit. Laughing, he said he's never told his wife whether the tale was true.

Colt swears — or rather, promises — the Dr Pepper story isn't apocryphal. During the summer before the seventh grade, with football about to start, his father challenged him to see if he could dedicate himself to something.

Colt went cold turkey, eliminating a six-Dr Pepper-a-day habit. He hasn't touched one since.

"Maybe someday, if I make it to the NFL and somebody pays me a lot of money to drink a Dr Pepper, I might do it," he said, chuckling.

Last Memorial Day, Colt and his father had just returned from fishing near Graham, Texas (where Brad is now coaching) when they heard a woman's screams from across the lake behind their home.

Although it was dark, Colt raced down the hill, plunged into the water and swam 300 yards to a dock. There, he found Ken Herrington, in the midst of a seizure. Herrington's wife, Patina, was struggling to keep him from falling into the water.

Colt and Brad helped secure Ken Herrington. Then, Colt ran barefoot several hundred yards up a gravel road to flag down an ambulance.

"It was just a true hero story," Patina Herrington told the Associated Press.

Or just what neighbors do. Just like they teach it in the Jim Ned Valley.

Even as Colt McCoy grew into a football prodigy, helping Jim Ned to a 34-2 record, passing for a Class 2A state record 9,344 yards and 116 touchdowns, leading the Indians to the state championship game as a junior, he was just a typical, well-rounded kid.

Mr. Jim Ned High School. The senior class favorite. A three-time member of the National Honor Society. And so on.

"He just took care of business," said Whitton, who taught McCoy in three classes. "You would never have known he was a hot-shot quarterback."

Big-time college football? Life in the pressure-cooker that is quarterbacking after Vince Young? Just maybe, the small-town kid has the perfect background.

"He's been preparing for this," Whitton said, "all his life."