HuskerfaninOkieland
Heisman Trophy Winner
Very good article!! Sounds like the players are really starting to understand what a Blackshirt is and what it means to Nebraska.
EDITED: Posted entire article for ease of reading
Lincoln-Journal Star
Practice was, at long last, finished.
Neil Smith sat with a towel draped over his head. Broderick Thomas, believe it or not, said nothing.
Now, when the Sandman is silenced, something’s not right.
“One guy didn’t hustle to the ball,” Larry Asante said, “then the Blackshirts ripped them and told them to get off the field.”
Asante, a Nebraska junior safety, has heard the story from his position coach. Marvin Sanders, you see, was wearing a gold shirt in that mid-1980s practice.
“I remember it distinctly,” Sanders said. “Somebody was yelling out — I’m not going to say the words they yelled out — but to paraphrase, it was, ‘If you guys don’t understand what it takes to win, then we might as well do it all.’”
So they did. The Blackshirts, the starting 11, took over and ran every single play the rest of practice, which, remember, had just begun.
“I couldn’t imagine going every single rep,” Nebraska sophomore cornerback Eric Hagg said, “and just finishing out the whole practice like that.”
In an eerily quiet locker room, Sanders was overwhelmed with guilt. He felt awful. He then made a vow with other gold shirts that they’d never, ever disappoint their elder teammates like that again.
They, too, would have to be Blackshirts, jersey or no.
“Just because they have the shirts,” Sanders remembers saying, “doesn’t mean that we don’t have the attitude.”
It’s that psyche that new Nebraska coaches, many who’ve lived or experienced the Blackshirts’ ways, are trying to re-establish with a mentally bruised and battered defense.
“You talk about the tradition, you talk about the Blackshirts,” Sanders said. “It comes with a work ethic. If we can get them to understand the hard work, the effort that it takes to be a good defense, then that goes hand-in-hand with the Blackshirt tradition.”
That’s what Sanders tried to convey one day when Asante phoned him. Somebody was preparing to interview Asante about the Blackshirt tradition. Asante, who joined the team last year as a transfer, wasn’t certain what to say.
“I called him,” Asante said, “and I was like, ‘Coach, what is a Blackshirt?’ I thought a Blackshirt was just the starting 11 on defense.”
Asante, a native of Alexandria, Va., has learned it’s much more. Being a Blackshirt, he said, is a mentality. Playing with a relentless attitude, having a special spirit.
It’s something Asante said he’s trying to pass along to teammates. Every defender, regardless of depth chart status, should embrace the Blackshirt attitude.
“Nobody really enforced it last year, but it’s emphasized this year about the Blackshirt tradition,” Asante said. “I mean, you have to take pride in it. It is tradition. You can’t forget tradition. This is our tradition.
“We have to make those old guys who wore the Blackshirt back in the day, we have to make them proud. But we have to create our own tradition, too. It’s making them proud, but on top of that, us developing our mentality to become Blackshirts.”
Suffice it to say that mentality was missing in 2007.
Seventy-six points scored by Kansas. Sixty-five by Colorado. One turnover forced in seven games. Linebackers pushing opponents across the goal line. One player turning in a Blackshirt; others ignoring the lead.
“I don’t want to call anybody out or anything, but I think some people just felt like because they wore a Blackshirt, it kind of gave them more power,” senior walk-on linebacker Tyler Wortman said of last year’s defense, which, statistics-wise, was the worst in Nebraska history.
Not every player felt that. Starting senior cornerback Zackary Bowman, amid the defense’s blunders, turned his Blackshirt in. He never wore it again.
Wortman, a reserve defender last season, applauded Bowman’s move.
“I think that was really the respectable thing to do,” he said. “The way the defense was playing last year, people didn’t deserve them. It should be on yourself. It shouldn’t be taken away from you.
“Really, you have to be the Blackshirt. If you’re wearing it, it just doesn’t happen. You have to make it happen.”
Some players said they’ve known the Blackshirt tradition but admit they’re not certain how it began.
Some haven’t heard the story of that day in 1964, when coach Bob Devaney sent a staff member to a local sporting goods store to purchase contrast jerseys — pullovers that went over the tops of the regular jerseys. The two-platoon system had returned to college football that season, and Devaney, the week before a game against Minnesota, wanted to distinguish the offensive and defensive units in practice.
As the story goes, the store had a surplus of black sleeveless pullovers. Nobody was buying them.
A deal was cut. A tradition began.
It’s a tradition that lost its luster last season.
“I hate talking about last year,” senior Armando Murillo said after a long, thoughtful pause.
“When I first got here, my first spring here, just the vibe with the players felt off,” said Murillo, a Tampa, Fla., native who joined the team last season as a junior college transfer. “You know what I’m saying? But now, like, man, I love and trust these guys 100 percent.”
Hagg, who’s from Peoria, Ariz., hadn’t a clue what the Blackshirts were before he arrived last season. He remembers when the Blackshirts had to take a picture at camp last fall.
“That’s the first time I heard about it,” Hagg said. “But they didn’t really talk about it in the meetings or anything.”
Contrast that to this year, when athletic director Tom Osborne, on the first day of fall camp, addressed the team. Osborne, a guest of first-year head coach Bo Pelini, was conveying how he wants this team to play. He showed video clips of great all-effort plays by past Huskers. He spoke of the Blackshirts.
“It gave me goose bumps,” Wortman said. “It was pretty intense.”
Wortman, who’s from Grand Island, associates Blackshirts with tenacity and intensity, he said. People flying to the ball.
His point of reference is the mid-1990s, when he was a youngster and Christian Peter and Grant Wistrom were leading Nebraska to national championships.
“Those defenses were brutal,” Wortman said. “They just beat people up.”
Now, Wortman is vying for his first Blackshirt. He’ll likely be the starting BUCK linebacker come the season opener on Aug. 30.
Coaches, though, aren’t certain when they’ll announce Blackshirts, or in what manner.
“Haven’t even had that discussion yet. That will be a staff decision,” first-year defensive coordinator Carl Pelini said.
“I’ve said all along when we have a starting group determined, then we’ll name Blackshirts. Until then, we won’t.”
Sanders eventually earned his Blackshirt. A moment of pride, he said.
So proud is Sanders of his Blackshirt that he still keeps No. 26 in a closet at home.
“It’s easily accessible,” he says, describing a rip in the sleeve.
If any player asks, Sanders will gladly bring the jersey to practice for show-and-tell. Anything to inspire a player to earn his own Blackshirt.
And then, more importantly, help restore its tradition.
Reach Brian Rosenthal at 473-7436 or brosenthal@journalstar.com.
EDITED: Posted entire article for ease of reading
Lincoln-Journal Star
Practice was, at long last, finished.
Neil Smith sat with a towel draped over his head. Broderick Thomas, believe it or not, said nothing.
Now, when the Sandman is silenced, something’s not right.
“One guy didn’t hustle to the ball,” Larry Asante said, “then the Blackshirts ripped them and told them to get off the field.”
Asante, a Nebraska junior safety, has heard the story from his position coach. Marvin Sanders, you see, was wearing a gold shirt in that mid-1980s practice.
“I remember it distinctly,” Sanders said. “Somebody was yelling out — I’m not going to say the words they yelled out — but to paraphrase, it was, ‘If you guys don’t understand what it takes to win, then we might as well do it all.’”
So they did. The Blackshirts, the starting 11, took over and ran every single play the rest of practice, which, remember, had just begun.
“I couldn’t imagine going every single rep,” Nebraska sophomore cornerback Eric Hagg said, “and just finishing out the whole practice like that.”
In an eerily quiet locker room, Sanders was overwhelmed with guilt. He felt awful. He then made a vow with other gold shirts that they’d never, ever disappoint their elder teammates like that again.
They, too, would have to be Blackshirts, jersey or no.
“Just because they have the shirts,” Sanders remembers saying, “doesn’t mean that we don’t have the attitude.”
It’s that psyche that new Nebraska coaches, many who’ve lived or experienced the Blackshirts’ ways, are trying to re-establish with a mentally bruised and battered defense.
“You talk about the tradition, you talk about the Blackshirts,” Sanders said. “It comes with a work ethic. If we can get them to understand the hard work, the effort that it takes to be a good defense, then that goes hand-in-hand with the Blackshirt tradition.”
That’s what Sanders tried to convey one day when Asante phoned him. Somebody was preparing to interview Asante about the Blackshirt tradition. Asante, who joined the team last year as a transfer, wasn’t certain what to say.
“I called him,” Asante said, “and I was like, ‘Coach, what is a Blackshirt?’ I thought a Blackshirt was just the starting 11 on defense.”
Asante, a native of Alexandria, Va., has learned it’s much more. Being a Blackshirt, he said, is a mentality. Playing with a relentless attitude, having a special spirit.
It’s something Asante said he’s trying to pass along to teammates. Every defender, regardless of depth chart status, should embrace the Blackshirt attitude.
“Nobody really enforced it last year, but it’s emphasized this year about the Blackshirt tradition,” Asante said. “I mean, you have to take pride in it. It is tradition. You can’t forget tradition. This is our tradition.
“We have to make those old guys who wore the Blackshirt back in the day, we have to make them proud. But we have to create our own tradition, too. It’s making them proud, but on top of that, us developing our mentality to become Blackshirts.”
Suffice it to say that mentality was missing in 2007.
Seventy-six points scored by Kansas. Sixty-five by Colorado. One turnover forced in seven games. Linebackers pushing opponents across the goal line. One player turning in a Blackshirt; others ignoring the lead.
“I don’t want to call anybody out or anything, but I think some people just felt like because they wore a Blackshirt, it kind of gave them more power,” senior walk-on linebacker Tyler Wortman said of last year’s defense, which, statistics-wise, was the worst in Nebraska history.
Not every player felt that. Starting senior cornerback Zackary Bowman, amid the defense’s blunders, turned his Blackshirt in. He never wore it again.
Wortman, a reserve defender last season, applauded Bowman’s move.
“I think that was really the respectable thing to do,” he said. “The way the defense was playing last year, people didn’t deserve them. It should be on yourself. It shouldn’t be taken away from you.
“Really, you have to be the Blackshirt. If you’re wearing it, it just doesn’t happen. You have to make it happen.”
Some players said they’ve known the Blackshirt tradition but admit they’re not certain how it began.
Some haven’t heard the story of that day in 1964, when coach Bob Devaney sent a staff member to a local sporting goods store to purchase contrast jerseys — pullovers that went over the tops of the regular jerseys. The two-platoon system had returned to college football that season, and Devaney, the week before a game against Minnesota, wanted to distinguish the offensive and defensive units in practice.
As the story goes, the store had a surplus of black sleeveless pullovers. Nobody was buying them.
A deal was cut. A tradition began.
It’s a tradition that lost its luster last season.
“I hate talking about last year,” senior Armando Murillo said after a long, thoughtful pause.
“When I first got here, my first spring here, just the vibe with the players felt off,” said Murillo, a Tampa, Fla., native who joined the team last season as a junior college transfer. “You know what I’m saying? But now, like, man, I love and trust these guys 100 percent.”
Hagg, who’s from Peoria, Ariz., hadn’t a clue what the Blackshirts were before he arrived last season. He remembers when the Blackshirts had to take a picture at camp last fall.
“That’s the first time I heard about it,” Hagg said. “But they didn’t really talk about it in the meetings or anything.”
Contrast that to this year, when athletic director Tom Osborne, on the first day of fall camp, addressed the team. Osborne, a guest of first-year head coach Bo Pelini, was conveying how he wants this team to play. He showed video clips of great all-effort plays by past Huskers. He spoke of the Blackshirts.
“It gave me goose bumps,” Wortman said. “It was pretty intense.”
Wortman, who’s from Grand Island, associates Blackshirts with tenacity and intensity, he said. People flying to the ball.
His point of reference is the mid-1990s, when he was a youngster and Christian Peter and Grant Wistrom were leading Nebraska to national championships.
“Those defenses were brutal,” Wortman said. “They just beat people up.”
Now, Wortman is vying for his first Blackshirt. He’ll likely be the starting BUCK linebacker come the season opener on Aug. 30.
Coaches, though, aren’t certain when they’ll announce Blackshirts, or in what manner.
“Haven’t even had that discussion yet. That will be a staff decision,” first-year defensive coordinator Carl Pelini said.
“I’ve said all along when we have a starting group determined, then we’ll name Blackshirts. Until then, we won’t.”
Sanders eventually earned his Blackshirt. A moment of pride, he said.
So proud is Sanders of his Blackshirt that he still keeps No. 26 in a closet at home.
“It’s easily accessible,” he says, describing a rip in the sleeve.
If any player asks, Sanders will gladly bring the jersey to practice for show-and-tell. Anything to inspire a player to earn his own Blackshirt.
And then, more importantly, help restore its tradition.
Reach Brian Rosenthal at 473-7436 or brosenthal@journalstar.com.
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