Nebraska-Oklahoma -- Once more, with feeling

I'm not a native Nebraskan and was still acclimating myself to the strange ways of this land when one day about 20 years ago I walked into an electronics store in Lincoln and saw a small but animated crowd gathered in front of a bank of televisions on the back wall. Oh man, I thought as I hustled back there: The president's been shot, the stock market crashed, someone figured out how to unscramble the naked channel.

But no. The store was just showing a video of the 1971 Nebraska-Oklahoma football game, and a dozen or so people had mustered there to watch the then-20-year-old game. I suspect some of these people actually wandered in off the street in a catatonic state, not quite knowing to what they were being summoned but knowing it was essential. I swear, at least three or four of 'em lip-synced along with Husker announcer Lyell Bremser's undeniably epic, spine-tingling call of Johnny Rodgers' TD punt return (http://bit.ly/1toRGd) "Holy moly, man, woman and child, did that put 'em in the aisles! Johnny the Jet Rodgers just tore 'em loose from their shoes!"

Nebraska won the Game of the Century 35-31 and later the national title. And some 39 years later, you still can gather a crowd of Nebraskans anytime, anywhere, by airing the game.

Nebraska is thick with nostalgia this week, as the Huskers play Oklahoma for the last time as conference opponents on Saturday. The rivalry, once one of the nation's best, actually died years ago when the Big Eight was expanded to the Big 12 and the two teams no longer met every year. We blame those bastards from Texas.

Be that as it may, Nebraskans are in a warm, reflective mood. Why, we don't even want to kill Dan Beebe anymore. Maybe just break his legs. Or arrange a date for him with A&M's Tony Jerod-Eddie (warning, Dan: He's all hands.)

There's been a lot of talk this week about the respect and admiration between Oklahoma's and Nebraska's football programs and fans. I don't know about that. In the household in which I was raised, I was 20 years old before I realized OU's coach wasn't actually named That Son of a Bitch Switzer.

Ah, Barry Switzer. The Bootlegger's Boy. He was yin to Tom Osborne's yang; Saturday night to Sunday morning; darkness to the light; hard drinker to the teetotaler; Arkansas snake-oil salesman to the dignified Midwesterner for whom "dadgummit" was an expletive. More to the point, Barry pretty much owned Tom, racking up a 12-5 record against him.

Switzer told a story once about some typical late-game Sooner magic that led to an OU victory in Lincoln. It was cold and late in the day by the time Switzer made his way off the field. He looked up into the corner of the stadium, where a group of forlorn Nebraska fans still sat, huddled against the bitter wind and even bitterer defeat. As he surveyed the scene, Switzer said, each fan slowly but defiantly raised a middle finger in his direction. Men, women, children, grandmothers. Switzer laughed uproariously as he told the story. No doubt he embellished considerably, but like all good story tellers, Barry's not one to let the truth get in the way of a good tale.

And speaking of good tales, some of the now-almost-elderly men who played in the early 70s have been on local radio shows telling war stories about the rivalry and the old Big 8. Among their observations: There's way too much wringing of hands and whining about the referee-baiting antics of our current coach. Why, he's a veritable milquetoast compared to the great Bob Devaney. Once Coach Devaney pistol-whipped a side judge to within an inch of his life, he did, and then had the man, barely conscious and propped up in a wheelchair, join him for a drink at the Legion afterward.

Well, enough nostalgia. On Saturday, we'll root for a Husker win, of course. But, win or lose, we'll hope for a game that fans still will be watching 40 years from now, maybe one with its own iconic play like that Johnny Rodgers' punt return. How about a Rex Burkhead-to-Cody-Green-touchdown pass, with 2:20 to play, to take a 28-24 lead? Then, to ice the game, a 47-yard pick-6 by Prince Amukamara. Final: 35-24.

You heard it here first.