LITTLE ROCK — A cold wind and empty streets separated them, but knots of loyal University of Arkansas fans gathered in warm pubs and bars across the Little Rock metro area Tuesday to watch the Cotton Bowl.
The huge wide-screen televisions of sports bar lore have started to give way to wall-mounted flat-screen high-definition sets, but tradition still reigned with Woo, Pig! Sooey! and even brass bands pumping crowds of Razorback-red-wearing faithful to spirited enthusiasm early.
Later, despair set in.
Kick-off, Guisano's, River Market, Little Rock:
The bar is packed. Televisions, including a massive big screen, are everywhere you look. Everyone is decked out in Razorback paraphernalia, including 70-year-old Mervyn George of Alexander. George perches on the bar. He has the hat, the shirt and a novelty pen that plays the fight song.
He's stoked.
"Wahooooooeeeeey," George screams when Darren McFadden plows ahead for seven yards on the initial drive.
George composes himself to scold a local television station for erroneously publishing a report last week that the junior tailback may be barred from the game for accepting a Cadillac Escalade from a sports agent.
"Shame on them," he says. "It brought tears to my heart to see them go after that young man."
The Razorbacks miss a field goal. Hot Chops, a six-man brass band, pumps up the volume. This is the kind of hoopla that drew Brett and Michelle Mentzer of Maumelle.
"And it's nonsmoking," says Michelle Mentzer, 26.
Brett Mentzer, 28, predicts a wild and woolly affair between Arkansas and the University of Missouri Tigers.
"It'll be a shootout all the way," he says.
zorback Pizza, Arkansas 365 North, Maumelle
Two Arkansas banners flank a mammoth 7-by-11-foot screen in a darkened barnlike room three-quarters filled with fans, mostly families, dressed in team colors.
With Arkansas down 7-0, subdued is the atmosphere of the moment. Make that subdued mixed with a dash of mounting frustration.
"Get him! GET HIM!" screams a voice from the gloom as Missouri's Tony Temple reels off another big run. A lone pompom shakes furiously as Temple is tackled.
Manager Kirk Sorensen admits that the crowd is on the silent side. But he notes that it's an early game on the day after the biggest party of the year.
Earl Wilson of Plumerville has watched Arkansas football since he was an undergraduate in the 1950s. He left the comfort of his home to make the long drive from Conway County for "the exciting music" being pumped in from unseen speakers.
Missouri is good. Very good, says Wilson, 67. But he's optimistic.
"We're still in it. We've still got hope," he says.
A few moments later, Missouri scores again. 14-0.
Halftime, Creegen's Irish Pub,
Main and Broadway, North Little Rock
A few scattered fans gaze at the marching bands on the immaculate images of a high-definition flat screen mounted on a wall.
Ernie Ambort of Little Rock declines to give his age but has a lot to say about Frank Broyles, Arkansas' legendary coach and retiring athletic director.
"I came here to watch Broyles because it's probably my last chance to see him," Ambort says. "He's too conservative for me, but I really respect him."
Ambort is not dissuaded by a halftime shutout.
"I think they're coming back," Ambort says.
He pauses and then speaks his mind. "It's an injustice to Mc-Fadden that we don't have more of a passing game." Third quarter, Norm's, Colo
nel Glenn Road, Little Rock
From the propped-open door, the groans reach the street that used to be called Asher Avenue. Inside, Razorback fans are grumpy. The score is 28-0.
"Nope. They're not coming back," says Carl Butler, 64, who watched the Razorbacks win the 1964 national championship while serving on the USS Hancock, an aircraft carrier in the South China Sea off the coast ofSouth Vietnam.
Nick Hauser, 63, leans against the bar where he has apparently been banished since winning a $100 bet on the halftime score. The windfall is a great way to start the New Year, he says.
Even better would be if the Hogs mounted a rally, he announces in a conciliatory tone. More grumbles from Butler's table. "Somebody get a rope," quips Mark Larsen, 53, staring at the elevated square box.
Just then, McFadden scores a touchdown.
"There is a God, and he's got number 5 on the front of his f*****g jersey," Hauser shouts with the fervor of a man who has his buddies' money in his pocket.
Fourth quarter, Sports N Beyond, 12th and Woodrow streets, Little Rock
It's 31-7, and the game isn't even on anymore. Pool sticks click on balls below old-school televisions showing the University of Michigan Wolverines battling the University of Florida Gators in the Florida Citrus Bowl.
"What game?" jokes owner Ralph Jackson, who opened a little later on the holiday, which also happened to be his 50th birthday.
"A lot of people in the neighborhood love the Razorbacks," Jackson says. But hopes are now pinned on the basketball team. Appalachian State is mentioned. "Yeah, whoo," he exhales.
Postgame, Mallard's Bar,
Peabody Hotel, Statehouse Plaza, Little Rock
Bobby and Kathy Baker and Scott Rushin recline on leather couches and chairs in an otherwise empty hotel bar with a distinctly funereal air.
The Bakers, both 43 and Beebe residents, and Rushin, also 43 and from Little Rock, look beaten. They talk in historical terms about a state's sports team that seems perennially snakebitten.
McFadden and the Escalade. Interim head coach Reggie Herring's job status. The legacy of former head coach Houston Nutt.
The tone is somber. Defeated. Their beloved Razorbacks have fallen. It's a blowout. A rout. An embarrassment, they say.
"How do you try a fake punt twice in a row?" Rushin asks as the plush flat-screen on a nearby wall shows the 38-7 score way too clearly.
"They didn't look like Arkansas. They didn't play their game at all today," Bobby Baker says.
"It sucks," Kathy Baker summarizes.
Just a few hours before, the whole Arkansas football world had been as bright as the January day's sun.
"I really thought we'd win this game," says Bobby Baker, forlornly.
Arkansas, Pages 7, 14 on 01/02/2008