When Texas last advanced to the Final Four in 1947, Texans could still rightfully advertise themselves as citizens of the largest state, as members in America’s greatest lumping of bumpkins.

The acquisition of Alaska in 1959 forced Texans to modify their braggadocio, but to their credit, they quickly adapted – now they’ll just tell you their state is the largest in the Confederacy.

Indeed, Texas needs a generous helping of humble pie, and although the Syracuse men’s basketball team figures to cook up that recipe with ease on Saturday night, I figured I could try my own attempt at serving a dish with a little Southern inhospitality.

Texas, take note, is the state of outlaws and shootouts. It’s the state of greasy-spoon diners and toothpick-chewing chawbacons. It’s a state of Macks and Bubbas and, yes, Dubyas. It’s a wasteland, some would contend, that’s best left for vultures, coyotes and Jerry Jones.

‘If I owned both Texas and Hell,’ Union Gen. Philip Henry Sheridan famously said, ‘I’d rent out Texas and live in Hell.’

Yet somehow, the citizens of Texas love the Lone Star State. They’re loyal lifers. They’ll never leave. A typical Texan will only travel north to see the Longhorn football squad get trampled by Oklahoma for a third consecutive year. He’ll avoid the Mason-Dixon Line like it’s an enema. He’ll never get closer to Europe than the pack of Copenhagen in his overalls.

That’s why so many of Texas’ homebred y’all-ers end up at the Big State School in Austin. Fifty-two thousand students attend the University of Texas – although by reading the obstinately single-minded football coverage, you’d think quarterback Chris Simms was the only one who mattered.

Football trumps all academic endeavors at Texas, but nobody seems to mind. Texas, you see, is the ultimate safety school, the academic equivalent of water wings. Who needs a diploma anyway, just so long as you’re literate enough to read the high school 5A football preview magazine that hits newsstands late every summer.

But wait – it gets better. (Or maybe worse.)

‘You may be interested to hear this,’ says SU graduate student Katherine Daniel, who lived in Texas and attended UT as an undergrad. ‘Not many people here know, but Texas is actually a bastion of liberalism. I remember from when I was there, you could always find something good to protest about.

‘I hope you’re not too surprised.’

Surprised? (ITALICS) Surprised?(ITALICS) Heck, I feel like I just spotted Bill O’Reilly at a Radiohead concert. All this time, the good folks up North were dead certain that Texas was nothing but a gigantic Chevy pick-up commercial. Now, it turns out that UT is more reefer bowl than dust bowl.

Believe it or not, others corroborate the story. In his book ‘Road Swing,’ Sports Illustrated columnist Steve Rushin, while in Austin, observed a hippie-packed, outdoor game of Rollerblade basketball as the ‘goateed slackers’ looked on. No doubt, it’s enough to make Texas head basketball coach Rick Barnes want to strangle himself with a hemp necklace.

Sorry to say, Texas, but your lollapalooza is about to end.

Yeah, point guard T.J. Ford is a dandy little player, but after him, the Longhorns have less talent than a JCC rec game. Here’s a brief rundown on a few of the Texas reserves: First, there’s sophomore Jason Klotz – has anybody named Klotz ever been coordinated? – who allows that his favorite sportscaster is Harry Caray. Then there’s senior Terrell Ross, he of 1.5 points per game, who’s one of three Longhorn players majoring in kinesiology. Nah, nothing fishy about that.

Then again, the Longhorns have always had a curious basketball history. The men’s basketball program began auspiciously in 1905, collecting a 7-1 record under the coaching of aptly named Magnus Mainland. But then, in 1910, Texas scheduled a game against the Austin Deaf School – no joke, check out page 191 in the UT media guide – and the Longhorns won, 92-14. Please, this is nothing to be proud about.

Thankfully, Texas fans needn’t worry about such disrepute any longer, because these days, games against the Deaf School will demagnify your RPI until it’s smaller than Simms’ career quarterback rating against the Sooners.

To be fair, Texans can justly criticize a great number of Syracuse’s flaws, and it’s only right to acknowledge that. Yes, it’s cold and snowy here. Yes, Carmelo Anthony might soon leave for the NBA. Yes, we can only get grits at Denny’s.

Come Saturday, though, once the Orangemen have dismantled the Longhorns, Texas will reawaken to the fact that it’s not a basketball school. Nothing – not even a Phish CD or thoughts on the next high school football season – will alleviate the pain. Texas will be dusty, dry and decrepit. Texas will feel like Hell.

But come to think of it, that may be an upgrade.

Chico Harlan is a staff writer at The Daily Orange. E-mail him at apharlan@syr.edu.

Published on April 2, 2003 at 12:00 pm