Leslie J. Cullen

Introduction

Dan Law Field is a great place—and often a difficult place—to watch Coach Larry Hays’ Texas Tech Red Raiders play baseball. The season starts at the end of January, and given the vagaries of West Texas weather, that means that it might be sunny and seventy degrees, or it might be sunny and fifteen degrees. February and March are just as dicey, though by Spring Break the cause is more the wind than the temperature.

My friend Bill Clayson dubbed such days "red planet afternoons", when 30-45 miles-per-hour winds scream through the power lines and moan through the archways of the Spanish Renaissance-style architecture that distinguishes the Tech campus. It often lends a yellowish hue to the dome of the sky; moving testament to the red laterite soils of West Texas and Eastern New Mexico. These spring winds—the result of tightly-packed isobars tracing over the flat southern plains—range from fresh to brutal, and blow topsoil from west to east. When we approach Dan Law Field on such an afternoon, the Big Twelve banners snapping loudly behind the press boxes and the grandstand, we think, "That’s a home-run wind." Any batter who lifts an ordinary liner toward left or left-center into that howling tempest knows that it has a chance of clearing the green wooden wall 380 feet distant. If nothing else, he may hope that the swirling eddies will blind or otherwise confuse the outfielders. Perhaps this is one reason why Hays prefers a turf infield—it keeps much of the dirt out of the faces of his infielders, even as the fans in the lower level stands enjoy a mouthful of fine grit.

The weather of early spring—when it does not delay or cancel games—may well be a home field advantage. The Tech outfielders know how to read balls riding the breeze. Another home field advantage at Dan Law or at any park is the fan; not the fan who comes shirtless on eighty degree April days when the sky is a deep blue and tans can be had; but the fan who enters the park every time the boys play, be it eighty or forty degrees. Though the winds blow and the skies fall, if the umpires sanction play; if there are but fifty fans in the stands, the Texas Tech Hecklers will be present—and heard.

My first memory of the Tech Heckler experience dates to one such blustery March night, in 1989. I was a freshman at Texas Tech, experiencing my first Red Raider baseball game, a tilt against the Wyoming Cowboys. I am able still to picture two things about that game. One of the Cowboy players, a hefty fellow and the object of some teasing from the fans, belted a monstrous home run over the high wall in dead center field. Later in the game, for some reason I don’t recall, the home plate umpire ejected the Wyoming coach. Almost immediately thereafter, I watched as a young black man ambled to the end of the grandstand walkway, to a point overlooking the visitor’s dugout, and leaned over the railing. There, behind the brick wall of the dugout, the Wyoming coach sat in a folding chair. With pseudo-concern dripping from his tongue, the young man asked, "What’s the matter coach, can’t see the game?" This was my first experience with George Christopher Snead, the founding father of Tech heckling; the fly-in-the-ointment for many a visiting coach, and the man who put together what has to be the most visible unofficial support group of any that attend Tech athletic events.

Snead, who grew up in El Paso, kicked footballs for the Hanks High School Knights and sat in the bleachers of the Dudley Dome—home of the Texas League Diablos—with his father. Here, at the feet of the older man, Chris learned the basics of getting "in the kitchen" of an opposing team’s players and coaches. Chris, who admitted openly to being "a mediocre umpire, a brutal baseball coach, and perhaps the worst baseball player to ever pick up a bat," brought these experiences with him to Lubbock and enlisted in the service of Larry Hays and the Red Raider baseball team.

It is difficult to place a precise date on the origins of the Tech Hecklers as a "formal" organization. The group’s composition has changed over the years, as college students come and go, and as professional demands interfere with the inherent love of baseball and the strong desire to hang around the ballpark. To the Hecklers, Dan Law field is an oasis in the semi-desert of the Southern Plains. The university has greatly improved its amenities over the last dozen years or so, adding lights for night games in 1988, new dugouts and locker rooms, and expanding the facility in the mid-90s to seat more than 6,000 people. Indeed, the aluminum construction of the bleachers—and the often stormy weather of spring and the recurrence of lightning-generating storms—prompted long-time heckler "Holy Joe" Brown to dub the new stadium "Grillmaster 6000." It is somehow fitting that the name arose as the group stood beneath the dripping stands on a Friday night in the ’99 season as six inches of rain fell on Lubbock, canceling a series with the Nebraska Cornhuskers in the fifth inning of the first game.

Informally, you might say that the Hecklers have been around as long as Snead, because his antics in support of the team invariably attract like-minded fans. As the Red Raiders steadily improved over the course of the 1990s—rising from an average third- or fourth-place team in the old Southwest Conference to challenging annually for the regular season and conference tournament titles in the Big XII—the visibility of the group increased.

1995: The Greatest Team and a Tradition Born

The Texas Tech Hecklers coalesced in the 1995 season, when the group’s members finally acquired season tickets together. The location of the seats was deliberate: Section H, rows 1 and 2. If the reader is unfamiliar with the layout of Dan Law Field, those seats may be found immediately behind and slightly to the left of home plate, and just to the right of the visitors’ on-deck circle. Perfect placement for informal conversations with—and to—opposing players and coaches.

That the 1995 Red Raider team was probably the best in the history of the program to date—winning fifty-one games—is coincidental, but the group was proud to have been in the wings, cheering the players and ragging the opposition. In that great Spring, Tech scored important victories over perennial powerhouse Wichita State and the defending national champion Oklahoma Sooners. Longtime thorn in Tech’s side, Grand Canyon, fell that year to Tech’s prolific bats, and Tech embarrassed Cliff Gustafson’s proud Texas team, beginning a great weekend series in Lubbock by touching the Longhorns for more than twenty runs. The Red Raiders capped off the regular season in College Station by blazing a path through the Southwest Conference Tournament, defeating host Texas A&M with a pair of timely home runs, and earning Hays’ squad the number one seed going into the NCAA Midwest Regional at Wichita State.

The team that arrived in Wichita during a veritable monsoon in May of 1995 was a force to be reckoned with. Red Raiders dominated both sides of the ball in the all- conference and all-tournament teams, and opposing pitchers had to reach number eight in the batting order before facing a player hitting less than .400. The pitching staff, anchored by Travis Smith, Ryan Brewer, and Matt Miller, was almost as strong. The power showed early, as Tech knocked aside the Providence Friars with a 20-plus run performance, and then defeated the Arkansas Razorbacks. The Red Raiders met their nemesis in Stanford, one of college baseball’s most imposing teams. Tech defeated the Cardinal in the first game, lost the second by one run, and then forced a rubber game, also losing by one run on a controversial call in the later innings.

The Book

The 1995 NCAA Regional was important for the Hecklers because it inspired much of the content of Snead’s Bleacher Bible, the unofficial guide to ragging, Dan Law Field style. Early in his career in Lubbock, Snead began collecting humorous lines he heard at ball games. Sources included other fans, players and coaches, and sports journalism in books, in newspapers, and on television. The compendium originally consisted of a stack of 3x5 cards, which quickly grew ragged with use. In spare moments in 1995, Snead and several of the other Hecklers compiled these lines into book form, featuring sections on pitchers, coaches, umpires, fielders, dugout loudmouths, mound conferences, coaches’ sons, and brutal players and teams in general.

Equally important, the book’s early pages offered guidance on the art of getting in another player or team’s kitchen without "crossing the line." Thus were the "Ten Commandments of Heckling" born. The "Thou Shalt Nots" banned the use of profanity and racial remarks, insulting the mother, and overkill. The "Thou Shalts" enjoined the necessity of intelligence and wit, genuine friendliness, and a sincere love and understanding of the game. Snead wanted everyone who encountered the group to know that its activities were all in fun, and done out of a sincere desire to strengthen natural home field advantage. Misunderstandings are inevitable, and the heat of close games or the disappointment of defeat may produce adverse reactions in players, coaches, and opposing fans; but the fact remains that heckling as Snead’s group understands it is not meant to be overly personal, mean-spirited, or deliberately provocative.

The Bible also contains a series of appendices conceived over numerous beers at Lubbock’s Conference Café, and in various restaurants and hotel rooms in greater Wichita, Kansas. These include my personal favorite, the "Glossary of Baseball Terms", as well as the "All-Brutal Team" for 1995, the "All-Brutality Conference", the hard-earned "Rules of Brutality", and the mathematically incomprehensible but-nevertheless-correct "Brutality Theorem." The Theorem posits in graphic form the incontestable truth that a lack of pitching, when combined with a lack of hitting and a noticeable number of fielding errors, and divided by mediocre coaching, will result, all things being equal, in a brutal baseball team. The literate among you will doubtless note that the previous sentence in this paragraph is, in a word, brutal.

1996: Sponsorship and the Chicken

1996 proved to be a banner year for the Tech program and for the Hecklers. In the final season of Southwest Conference Baseball, the Red Raiders posted another powerful team, winning thirty-seven of their first thirty-nine games against quality opposition at two early-season tournaments and taking games from Arizona State and Grand Canyon. Tech also split series with Texas and Rice and swept Texas A&M and Baylor. Forty-six regular season victories earned the Red Raiders the right to host the final Southwest Conference post-season tournament. Rice eventually won that event, but not before Tech for the first time in its history secured a regional NCAA tournament. The visitors included Fresno State, the University of Southern California, and Oklahoma State. Tech split two games with Fresno State before facing the Trojans in the regional semifinal in one of the most exciting contests ever played at Dan Law Field. That warm May afternoon featured a howling dust storm and a game that went eleven innings before USC’s multi-tool Jacques Jones finally plated the winning run. Tech fans enjoyed watching junior reliever Jimmy Frush hit for himself for the first time since high school and score a run. This was also the first for any Tech pitcher since the designated hitter rule went into effect in 1972.

The Hecklers broke new ground, securing corporate sponsorship from Conference Café. That establishment’s owner provided money for custom-printed T-shirts, something the group’s members have worn in every season since. Other sponsors in ensuing years have included Hub City Brewery, Papa John’s Pizza, and Fellers Marketing. The T-Shirts did generate some controversy, as a couple of the Hecklers felt that wearing company logos was "selling out", and might force the group to respond to outside pressure. That concern aside, the quality of the shirts has steadily improved over four seasons, and while they may not always be in the best of taste, they never fail to amuse. Logos have included crying babies (inspired by numerous coaches), variations on the theme of anthropomorphized baseballs, and an especially notorious representation of the Heckler mascot, the generic rubber chicken. Heckler philosophers decided early that the chicken represented the "duality of man" (a send-up of Matthew Modine’s flippant response to a Marine colonel’s question in Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket) before changing their minds to allow that it might also incorporate the principles of Feng Shui. After all, a poorly organized baseball team represents natural disharmony and consequently stands little chance of surviving a trip to Lubbock. Especially brutal performances by visiting players invariably result in the chicken being hoisted from the net behind home plate.

1997: The Inaugural Big XII Season

The Red Raiders enjoyed an outstanding first season in the new Big XII Conference, a powerhouse featuring the likes of Texas, Oklahoma, Texas A&M, Oklahoma State, and Baylor. In the course of winning more than forty regular season games, Tech swept Southern Illinois, Iowa State, Missouri, Kansas State, and Nebraska, while taking two out of three each from Texas, Baylor, Oklahoma State, Kansas, and Oklahoma. Hays’ squad won the first ever Big XII regular season, and finished second at the tournament in Oklahoma City, losing a four-hour slugfest to Larry Cochell’s Oklahoma Sooners, 19-17. Most exciting about that event was not the final game, but the fact that Tech beat A&M and Oklahoma State back-to-back on the same day to earn the right to face the Sooners. Lubbock again enjoyed a regional, hosting Clemson, Rice, Nevada, Southwest Missouri State, and Southwest Texas State. Tech fans, however, were heartbroken by a dismal 0-2 performance. Despite the sad end to the season, the Red Raider faithful were treated to excellent individual performances. Jason Gooding set a record with a dominating 11-0, 137-strikeout season. First Baseman Joe Dillon walloped 33 homeruns and 89 RBI, while second baseman Keith Ginter earned consensus All-America honors with 17 home runs and a .426 batting average. Switch-hitting Catcher Josh Bard was named freshman of the year. The Hecklers’ primary T-Shirt—sponsored once again by Conference Café—suggested that one must "have balls." This year’s team most certainly did.

The inaugural Big XII season broke new ground for the crew in Section H as they welcomed new Cowboy skipper Tom Holliday to Lubbock. Tech took two games in the March series, but the enduring legacy became one of bad blood. While the Red Raiders and their fans basked in the glow of their first ever number 1 ranking, Holliday told the Austin American Statesman that the Tech fans were "a disgrace to the Big XII", and that the hecklers had hurled garbage and racial epithets at his players. Anyone who knew Snead and had seen the Ten Commandments knew that these remarks were groundless, and that Holliday was taking the high ground in the annals of sour grapes. The Hecklers, in honor of Holliday’s comments, celebrated with commemorative T-Shirts announcing the formation of the Lubbock Chapter of "Tom’s Fan Club." In addition to a stick figure representation of the OSU skipper, the back featured a pacifier over Tom’s immortal quote describing the Tech fans. The author, at the Big XII Tournament, enjoyed an OSU fan telling him, "your T-Shirt sucks." Since then, the Hecklers have sent Holliday cards and floral arrangements, just to show that our hearts are in the right place. How could we help it? You could not invent material this good. Here is a coach who slams a relief pitcher up against a dugout wall in Oklahoma City, refers to him in the media as a "cancer on the team", and then sends him to the mound the following day. Despite our misunderstandings, we still love ya, Tom.

1998: Still A Contender

Outstanding individual performances also marked Tech’s second season in the Big XII. Tech Pitcher Shane Wright earned consensus All-America honors, leading the nation in innings pitched and winning fourteen games. More amazing still is that in thirteen of the fourteen Wright went the distance. Especially memorable was the Friday night in early April against Missouri when Shane, with two on and no outs in the ninth inning, grounded out the first and struck out the last two batters to preserve the win. During a mound conference before the first out, Coach Hays asked Wright how he felt. He responded that he felt "like winning." Players like Shane Wright and his fellow Tech moundsmen Monty Ward and Brad Ralston made cheering for this college baseball team a pleasure, and gave the Hecklers something to look forward to each week. The same applied to the bats of Keith Ginter, Josh Bard, and outfielder Jason Landreth.

Adding to the bad blood that marks the Big XII Conference, the Hecklers welcomed new Longhorn coach Augie Garrido ("Soggy Burrito") to Lubbock in March. This series was especially interesting, as Garrido got himself tossed out of the Saturday game with his benighted ‘horns down by ten. Before the woodshed closed down for the day, pitcher Beau Hale and assistant coach Tommy Harmon were also sent to the showers. The Hecklers amused themselves by mocking the bald head of Texas freshman catcher Kade Johnson. Snead showed up at the park having purchased several latex rubber clown skull caps, and probably still has the photograph somewhere of the boys in the front row.

Most entertaining about the ’98 campaign was the Big XII Tournament at the new Bricktown Ballpark in Oklahoma City. Home to the AAA Oklahoma Redhawks of the Pacific Coast League (PCL), this 13,000 seat stadium was designed to be a small scale version of the Ballpark in Arlington. It is an absolutely beautiful facility, and a great place to watch three or four ballgames a day for four days. Texas Tech won the tournament in exciting fashion, sending the Baylor Bears home and beating the Sooners and Aggies in a single day. Jason Landreth showed his mettle in these games, twice throwing speeding Oklahoma baserunners out at home plate from deep in left field. One would think that Cochell would have altered the scouting report after the first incident. Sooner fans, displeased at the plate umpire’s calls, showered the field with foam seat cushions given away at the gate by tournament sponsors, causing the umpires to suspend the game briefly. The Tech Hecklers, whose ’98 slogan was "Less Kit, More Rag" were named the best fans of the tournament by Big XII officials.

Tech—despite a fine showing late in the conference campaign, failed to host in the post-season, and was obliged to travel to Miami to compete in the East Regional. Snead, enjoying the patronage of well-placed Tech fans, made the trip alone to South Florida to hold high the Heckler banner. The Raiders fared badly, however, winning their first game against the University of North Carolina before losing in the late innings to South Carolina and finally facing Miami and the Hurricanes’ All-American pitcher, Alex Santos. Snead ragged to the bitter end, and the Hecklers were left to await the ’99 campaign.

1999:

The ’99 edition of the Red Raiders were hard-pressed to match the pitching performances of the previous two seasons, and the team struggled to find its identity in a lengthy California road trip. There Tech took one of three games with USC, beat UCLA, San Diego State, and Oregon State, and then lost to Loyola Marymount and the University of San Diego. Baylor swept them in three very close and very frustrating games in Waco. As the season ground on, Tech seemed to be hitting its stride when injuries struck down key pitchers Brad Ralston and Kevin Tracey. Weather—the heaviest rains of the decade—disrupted Tech’s April winning streak. Leading Tech batter Jon Weber—faring poorly in school—left the team after final exams in May, damaging the team’s chemistry and cohesion. In Oklahoma City the Red Raiders went 0-2, losing to Texas and Missouri. Nevertheless, Tech earned the right to host a regional featuring a powerful Rice squad, Wisconsin-Milwaukee, and Rutgers. Tech beat Rutgers, eliminated a surprising UWM team—only to lose two heartbreakers to Wayne Graham’s Owls. Heckling Graham was a great deal of fun, but his loaded pitching staff proved too much for a weakened Red Raider team to handle. Damon Thames, however, gave Tech fans a great review on the web at ncaabaseball.com. An up and down season had a bitter sweet conclusion as Tech fans celebrated the outstanding careers of one of the best batteries any of us had ever seen—the warrior-on-the-mound Shane Wright, and the always reliable Josh Bard.

Tech Players: Nicknames and Superstitions

One of the pleasures of being a season ticket holder at Texas Tech is watching team chemistry develop over the season, and learning the individual characteristics of players. Indeed, the Hecklers take as much pleasure in cheering for their own team as they do in working hard to put the visiting team at a disadvantage. Down the seasons the Hecklers have existed, they have developed memorable fan relationships with many Tech players. Hard hitting shortstop Dion Ruecker, for example, could not come to bat without a chorus of "Prime Time" and a lusty charge blown on half a dozen kazoos. Infielder Jason Huth could not reach base without the Hecklers embarking on the ritual chant, "The Huth, the Huth, the Huth is on fire!" Hawaiian slugger Brandon Toro, who so punished Baylor in Waco in the ’97 season, often heard "Aloha means goodbye" for each of his numerous home runs, and the "Hawaii Five-O" theme blown on the Heckler kazoos. All-American Catcher Josh Bard—who always seemed to know how to get aboard—probably never tired of the Heckler chorus, "Bard of the Yard." There are many others, easily too many to mention.

Baseball players are notoriously superstitious, and some of the Tech rituals are worth mentioning here. All-American third baseman Clint Bryant—one of only two Red Raiders ever to have his number retired (the other being Brooks Wallace)—could not take the field before a home game without first paying a visit to McDonald’s for cheeseburgers. The indomitable Stubby Clapp—a former Canadian high school hockey player with the missing front teeth to prove it—would always turn a jaunty forward flip in short right field while jogging to his position. His first season in the minors I saw him—quite unknowingly—start at second base for the Prince William (VA) Cannons of the Carolina League. When he took the field without turning that flip, I was disappointed. After the game I asked him about it and he said with a quirky grin, "They don’t let us showboat here." Jason Landreth could not enter the batter’s box without first using the handle of his bat to trace the outline of a cross in the dust. Incidentally, the fussy habits of opposing ballplayers in the batter’s box inspired the "Step" routine, which is either the funniest or the most brutal of all the things the Hecklers do. It is often requested, and fans of opposing teams have tried to imitate it. It has been perfected over the years, and only the initiated know exactly in which order the terms fall. Some batters successfully ignore being stepped, while many others simply cannot handle it. It must be applied judiciously, though some fans (Baylor) don’t seem to realize this basic truth.

Memorable Moments in the ‘90s: Opposing Players and Coaches

Where does one start, when there are so many great memories of players large and small, excellent and brutal, who came to the attention of the Hecklers at home and away, at Tournaments, and in the press?

The Texas Longhorns have provided us with great fun over the years, and we reserve so much for them because Tech suffered at their hands for so long. Additionally, their fans are—as a group—easily the most crude and brutal in the Big XII. Augie Garrido was right when he said in ’98 that the ‘horns walk around a big burnt orange bulls-eye on their backs. The sad fact is that they earned it.

We ragged on Brooks Kieschnick, who was designated hitter even when he pitched, and always called time to have his jacket delivered to him at first base when he reached. He was dubbed the "human rain delay" and several of us offered to be his personal valet.

We had great fun with UT quarterback and baseball player Peter Gardere. This player had the misfortune of playing in Lubbock on the same day as the National Football League Draft. Snead, sitting in the front row, arranged to have someone dial his cell phone number every time Gardere came to bat. Snead would then say to Gardere’s back as he squared to face the pitch: "the Atlanta Falcons called, and they don’t want you." And the next at-bat: "the Washington Redskins called, and they don’t want you either." Inventive. Hilarious. The hallmark of so much of what the group has done.

The pattern repeated itself when UT quarterback and star outfielder Shae Morenz came to Lubbock in 1995. I don’t recall a time when an individual player received such rapt attention. Snead began working on Morenz during the pre-game warm-ups, and promised that we would visit him in the fourth inning. We kept the promise, and took with us that year’s Miss Lubbock, Eve Johnson, who was on hand to sing the National Anthem. Outside the right field fence, near the Tech bullpen, Miss Johnson cried out her undying love for Shea, even showing him her shapely legs. Snead and I showed him our not-so-shapely legs as well, and he did his best not to look. We reminded him that the last time he had been in Lubbock—during the football season—he spent much of the game on his back, as Tech defenders led by Zach Thomas sacked him half-a-dozen times in a 33-9 Tech victory. Through all of this, UT center fielder Jerry Taylor was grinning ear-to-ear. When Taylor—who is black—was next in the on-deck circle, he looked up at the Hecklers and said to Snead: "There’s only six of you in Lubbock, so why are fronting me?" Snead gave his usual reply, "I love you, man!" Taylor, turning to walk to the plate, said, "Shut up and buy me a chili dog." The concession stand had no chili dogs, so we bought him a pickle instead and had it delivered to him in the dugout.

Problematic Texas relief pitcher JoJo Hinojosa—whose hallmark was an odd sidearm delievery—also provided much entertainment. After a performance in the 1996 SWC Tournament when Tech batters sent him quickly to the showers, he began mouthing off in the direction of the fans. His little brother—a high school student—then tried to pick a fight with the Hecklers. Snead returned to a later game that evening with a dress for Hinojosa—a pointed editorial comment. Texas players—always arrogant because of the storied history of their program—have called us names such as "slapdick." Always a talented ball club, they suffer from a lack of humility, have little sense of humor, and—at least under Gustafson—could not seem to win gracefully against Tech.

Other Big XII players who stand out in the memory include a raft of Oklahoma State players—Rusty McNamara, who studiously ignored every comment we ever sent in his direction, and several other players who could not. These include Tony Rossein and the inevitable coach’s son, Josh Holliday. Josh told us in Lubbock following the ’99 series, "My dad’s not such a bad guy. He’s misunderstood."

Baylor never fails to disappoint, with such great guys as "Little" Ben Bronson, Preston "Crusted Underpants" Underdown, the enormously talented (and enormous) Jason Jennings, who more than once was accused of flattening the mound at Dan Law Field, and the catcher, Shoppach ("Shop Vac"), whose first name escapes me and whose every backward move prompted a heckler chorus of beeps. Baylor’s new ballpark is beautiful, but their fans leave much to be desired. Waco is the only place—other than perhaps Austin—where I’ve been accosted and sworn at by hateful fans. On one memorable Friday night in March 1997, just after Brandon Toro hit a monstrous home run over right center field and into the Brazos River, a Baylor fan yelled at Snead and me, "Go back to Lubbock, you morons!" This line is gleefully resurrected each time we play the Bears.

Texas A&M, while a key rival, has never really inspired much of the bad blood that exists between Tech and other foes, such as UT, Baylor, and OSU. A&M fans, (the so-called "Raggies") while typically programmed in their statements and responses, are decent folk, and the rivalry is a friendly one. If we have any friends in Oklahoma during the conference tournament, it is the Aggies. They have some players, though, who are worthy of mention. All-American Casey Fossum, for example, who never seemed to have his head in the game in Lubbock. Heckler chants of "Casey, twelve runs", which hearken back to his Freshman appearance at Dan Law, probably did not help. Daylan ("Fast ball, curve ball, change-up you’re out . . . Daylan come and he want to strike out" in your best Harry Belafonte) Holt, the temperamental right fielder with the big stick, has also been a Heckler favorite.

The Oklahoma Sooners have also been great fun over the years. Imposing fielder and prolific home run hitter Casey Bookout is a prime example. We never tired of ragging on his ample frame, but he could back everything up on the field. In the ’98 season, when the Sooners were in Lubbock, Snead saw Bookout and his family at a local restaurant and had pie a la mode anonymously delivered to his table. At the next day’s came, Snead innocuously asked Bookout how he enjoyed the dessert. He paused visibly in the batter’s box. Later that season—his last as a Sooner—he came into the stands at Bricktown and shook our hands, saying, "You guys are great fans." Bookout was always a classy player. There was also a Sooner pitcher—at the ’98 tournament—who could not seem to get the ball over the plate without skipping it through the dirt. Kevin Newsum—a former amateur stand-up comedian and a true wit—suggested that his body lacked sufficient levels of "trajecterone." As far as I know, this remark tops any list of words coined at opportune moments for the purposes of baseball humor.

There are many players beyond the Big XII who deserve to be remembered by this organization. At the top of this list is Temple Owl catcher Todd Gancasz, who will forever be "Cousin Gas Can" at Dan Law Field. The Owls came to Lubbock for an early season, seven game series. They went 0-7, and struggled mightily, allowing us to develop the "Temple Rule," which states simply, "when two or more players touch the ball, the next player will drop it." Gas Can figured heavily in this calculus. The Owls took the ribbing well, though, even joining us in the stands when Tech played one of the other teams (Miami of Ohio or TCU) in town that week. TCU provided us with ample opportunity to jest with the sons of volunteer pitching coach Nolan Ryan, and to rag such players as Royce Huffman and the unforgettably named Mousadakis. The Horned Frogs have always been a decent crew. Following one series we ran into them at the Conference Café and enjoyed a few rounds of adult beverages with them.

Always remembered will be several small school players, such as Eastern New Mexico’s Duke Gonzalez, who could never have his name announced without hearing the Hecklers chant their version of the classic "Duke of Earl." The Duke took it well, coming out of the dugout once to tip his hat after accepting the Hecklers’ gift of a squeeze bottle. Perennial victim West Texas A&M, long-skippered by Tech alumnus Todd Howey, fielded wonderful players such as Mike Ohm (imagine the Buddhist possibilities for joking), and the incomparable shortstop Lane Supak. The way he wore his stirrups and stockings will always be imitated, and his play gave rise to the unique Supak Fan Club, Lubbock Chapter. Grand Canyon University gave us the hairiest player I’ve seen at any level. His glorious hirsute aspect—capped off with a luxuriant walrus mustache—enabled us to christen him "Captain Caveman." That series inevitably featured numerous references to Hanna-Barbara cartoons of all descriptions.

Heckler lore was greatly enriched by the first game of the ’95 NCAA Regional, where Tech faced the Providence Friars out of the Big East. The group visited the local Wal-Mart on the way to the ballpark, purchasing "friar pans" and wooden baking spoons with which to entertain the players. I can personally attest to how annoying this was, as Tech’s bats exploded in startling fashion. Friar starter Todd Incanoloupo—who came into the game with ten wins and an ERA just over 1, gave up enough runs in the first couple of innings to send his ERA up an entire point. One Tech batter even went for the cycle, as the Raiders plated more than twenty runs. The Hecklers returned to the ballpark the following evening when the Friars were playing host Wichita State, to ride them out of town, as it were. During that game—which was a good one incidentally—one of the Friar’s coaches stepped out of the dugout, turned around, and mouthed the F-bomb in our direction. This intolerance earned him the not-so-coveted title of honorary head coach of the All-Brutal Team for that season. When Friar fan asked Snead when he planned to grow up, the latter responded, "I have a job, a wife, a mortgage, two cats, and a dog. Am I grown up enough for you now."

Some coaches have been wonderful. In the 1996 Central Regional in Lubbock, Heckler research indicated that the Fresno State coach styled himself a poet. The fellows in Section H proceeded to set his poems, "It’s Society’s Fault", for example, to a bluesy riff and then serenaded him. After Tech swept Southern Illinois in three games in Lubbock, the Saluki Coach invited us up to root for his team in the Missouri Valley Tournament Conference. He invited us out for beer, and later mailed Snead an SIU T-Shirt and a set of bag tags. Oklahoma Skipper Larry Cochell—always the classiest of coaches—walked up to where we were sitting as his team struggled against Tech in Lubbock in ’98—and asked, "Which one of you guys wants to pitch for me?"

Fans: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

While some people regard the Tech Hecklers as the most obnoxious crew in the conference, the reader can rest assured that everything we do is meant to be friendly and on the level. There is strictly no race-baiting, no profanity, no references to family members or girlfriends; nothing that can be construed as mean-spirited. While we may cross the line from time to time, especially in heated contests with rivals, we have always policed ourselves with the Ten Commandments and with a stern word to any offender. There are other fans, however, who don’t seem to observe any or the basics of sportsmanship. It should be noted that no team’s fans are all bad—or all good. There are some, however, that really stand out.

The Texas fans, as a group, have to be the surliest lot I’ve seen. They dish out the nastiest treatment in the conference at Disch-Falk, but act surprised if anyone has the temerity to give them a dose of their own prescription. The best case-in-point was the 1999 Big XII Tournament—the Longhorns’ first since the conference’s inception in the 1997 season. The Texas fans acted as though they owned the place, and were self-righteously indignant that we would root for Baylor and Missouri against them—even after they put Tech in the loser’s bracket to open the Tournament. One woman shot us the finger—with both hands—while most of the ‘Horn faithful seemed content to glare and ask us how many times the Red Raiders have won the College World Series—as if that had any relevance. Another woman insulted Holy Joe Brown, asking him if it was appropriate for his son to be exposed to such hooliganism. The sweetest moment of the evening took place when a Big XII official walked down to our section, and in full view of the ‘Horn fans, named us the best fans at the tournament the second year in a row, and presented us with a box full of tournament souvenirs. That game—which Texas lost to an insurgent Missouri team—prompted Tiger skipper Tim Jamieson to approach us the next day and say that what we had done meant a lot to his kids; this even after we had heckled his team several years running. The difference between the two approaches is remarkable.

Probably the classic fan moment took place at the 1995 Regional in Wichita. After Tech beat Arkansas on Saturday afternoon and prepared to face Stanford later that evening, a Stanford fan approached us and offered to buy us lunch. We politely declined his offer, but as we turned to leave, he stuffed a $20 bill in my pocket and said, "have lunch on me." We went and ate, but when we returned to the ballpark we found him in the Stanford section and returned his money, saying, "we can’t take your money when we’re about to rag on your team." He accepted the bill, saying, "OK, just don’t rag on number 6. He’s my son." During the game, when number 6 stepped up to the plate, we would yell. "Hey, we’re not going to rag on you, but if we were, we’d say . . ." At the same tournament, when the Shockers were playing the Friars, the Wichita State Dean of Students, who was sitting immediately behind us, voiced his wish that WSU students would get into their team like we got into ours. Some women also offered us home baked cookies.

Conclusion

As the Texas Tech Hecklers enter the new century and the new decade—represented by the chicken as always under the slogan "C2K"—there are new challenges to face. The Red Raiders have a strong schedule in 2000, hosting Southern California and San Diego State, as well as conference opponents Texas, Baylor, and Oklahoma, while going on the road to face Long Beach State, Texas A&M, Nebraska, and Oklahoma State.

Addendum - The author of the above manuscript, Les Cullen, is now Heckler Emeritus. We'll pick up where and when he left off...

2000

The Team
The 2000 Red Raiders were a gutty bunch that battled a glut of injuries to make it to post-season play for the 6^th year in a row. Brandon Roberson entered the season a pre-season All-America pick but injured his elbow in the first game of the season and never appeared again. Chaz Ackerman, Matt Harbin, Miles Durham and J.J. Newman later succumbed to injuries as well. As a result, Kevin Tracey was asked to do double-duty on the mound as closer and #3 starter and he delivered numerous clutch performances in recording 10 complete games, nine wins and seven saves, becoming the only Big 12 pitcher to ever record more than seven complete games and five saves in a season.

The up and down Red Raiders followed an early season series win over USC in Lubbock by losing three straight at Long Beach State the following week. The pitching injuries continued to mount and the struggles reached their height in a three week stretch that included a home series loss to Missouri, a sweep of San Diego State, losing 2 of 3 at A&M and getting swept at UT-Pan Am. With a 13-13 record and a 2-4 mark in Big 12 play, #5 Baylor came to The Law. The Raiders answered with a sweep of Baylor highlighted by two saves by Tracey and the emergence of lefthander Blake McGinley. Comeback wins over UT and Oklahoma highlighted crucial series wins down the stretch of Big 12 play. The OU finale was memorable as Tech was down 12-2 in the 5^th and the Hecklers and Hecklers North traded places and roles. What followed was one of the most memorable comebacks ever as Tech won 15-14 in 10 innings which sent Tech to Oklahoma City as the 5th seed. A split of four games there included wins over A&M and Texas. The NCAA assigned the Red Raiders as the 3 seed in the Houston regional, which featured Rice, Houston and Princeton. Two losses to Rice were sandwiched around a stellar pitching performance by Cory Metzler in the lone tournament win over Princeton. The team finished with a 36-26 record and we said good-bye to a Heckler favorite in centerfielder Marco Cunningham. Chaz Eiguren, Scott Holzhauer, Tracey, Trey Lunsford and Miles Durham among others, also said farewell.

The Fans
Perhaps a signature moment in our history came in the Friday night game against Baylor at Dan Law Field. Tech was sitting at 16-16 on the year, and the post-season prospects were on the ropes. Baylor came to town ranked #5 and in the 4th or 5th inning they had a runner miss 3rd while scoring the tying run. Gus happened to be looking RIGHT at the base. We (the Hecklers) started going nuts and J.J. Newman appealed and the runner was called out for missing the base. Baylor didn't score in that inning and Tech ended up winning the game 3-2. The good guys swept that series and it was really a turnaround moment for them, in hindsight. We're so proud of that play, we have an audio clip of the call on this site under "Heckler Hype."

Later in Big 12 play, Chad Landry's grand slam in the 8th inning to beat UT in the Saturday game set Tech up to win that series. It Frank Anderson's first trip back to Lubbock as a Longhorn and he was treated to a section of waving, oversized dollar bills on every trip to the mound. Plus, we announced a "Top Ten Reasons Frank Anderson is a Longhorn" list. Tech won three of the five games against UT that year, including the Big 12 tournament, and really had no business doing so.

The two wins against OU were especially memorable, especially Sunday's win. It was the final weekend series of the year and several "Hecklers North" members were in their final home game before they graduated. Tech fell behind 12-2 and we swapped seats and roles with “North” to let them have their moment in the sun. Lo and behold, Tech put on a huge rally and ended up winning the game. We donned the sombreros and did their thing, and they hung the chicken and did our thing, and the team did their thing winning in extra innings.

In OKC, we greeted Longhorn catcher Ryan Hubele with cries of "Ry-Ry-Ryan" incessantly as he pumped faked his every throw back to the mound in a winner's bracket game. It was an inspired effort by the Hecklers and Baylor won the game with a late-inning home run. It also produced sour feelings from the Longhorns as they faced Tech in a rematch of their opening-night win, which Tech won in dramatic fashion behind Cory Metzler's strong outing.

The regional in Houston produced the introduction of the word "mendicant" into Heckler vocabulary. It also saw a matchup with Princeton of the Ivy League. The Princeton fans looked on with amazement for about three innings before giving in and enjoying our final win of the season. As the game wore on we were posing for group pictures with the Princeton parents as they mused at our chicken and our antics.

2001

The Team
The 2001 Red Raiders featured an entirely new infield, a new catcher, and two new outfielders. Only Chad Landry, Jason Rainey and a few pitchers provided experience, including Brandon Roberson who returned from a sore elbow that caused him to miss the 2000 season. An early appearance at the Enron Classic in the Astros new ballpark saw Chris Phillips make an excellent first impression in a win over TCU in the tourney opener. Series wins over Cal State-Northridge and New Mexico surrounded a 3-1 weekend at the Greater San Diego Tournament.

Nebraska brought an eventual College World Series participant to Dan Law Field and they produced a sweep-Tech's first home sweep in 11 years-with three losses by a total of four runs. A loss in the series opener at Austin made Tech 0-4 and was the low point in the season. What followed was a 19-6-1 finish in Big 12 play, and Coach Hays being named the Big 12 Coach of the Year.

A 1-2 finish in OKC at the league tourney plopped Tech in Fullerton, CA, as the 3 seed with the #1 seed in the USA, Cal State-Fullerton, as well as 2 seed Arizona State. ASU shelled Roberson a loss in the opener and Tech appeared to be poised for a quick exit. Metzler won the loser's bracket game for the 2nd year in row poising Tech for a rematch with the Sun Devils. Down 8-3 in the 4th innning, McGinley stopped the bleeding for 4-plus innings while the Red Raiders pecked away and tied it in the 8th, then won it on a wild pitch in the 9th. The next day, facing the daunting task of sweeping Fullerton, the good guys exploded on Fullerton pitching to win the opener. Matt Harbin went the distance saving vital innings for the finale. However, it was not to be as Chad Ertel matched the deep and talented Fullerton staff into the 6th inning before wearing down and exiting. McGinley, Rainey, catcher Tony Arnerich and outfielder Kerry Hodges left for professional baseball leaving a solid core for 2002.

The Fans
The Kansas series featured some of the best-pitched, quickest games ever at our park. The Friday night game went 1:47 and we thought we'd never see anything close to that again. The very next day the game whistled by in 1:38. The best part of the weekend was that it was a sweep that pushed the Raiders into 3rd place following a disastrous start to Big 12 play. We treated Jayhawk hurler Pete Smart to cries of "Greg Brady" as a result of his fluffly hairdo and that resulted in an amusing exchange of e-mail later the next week.

We said good-bye to Iowa State baseball as the ISU athletic department announced the elimination of the baseball program following the '01 campaign. The announcement came on the week the Hawkeyes prepared for their trip to Lubbock, so emotions were mixed. The ISU club was a game bunch and squeaked into the field of eight in OKC and we enjoyed an inspired moment rooting them on as they rallied in the 9th and eliminated Baylor from the tournament in day two, proving to be the final win in the program's history. On that same night the Hecklers donned the coveralls and assumed the role of AggieYell Leaders during the TTU-A&M game, a moment that was clearly enjoyed more by the Red Raider contingent than the Aggie faithful and apparently an OKC newswriter, who scribed a column about our annual appearance at the tourney.

The Heckler trip to Fullerton for the regional involved a 15-person van, nine Hecklers, tons of Heckler luggage, and was made possible through the donation of several Lubbock sports talk radio listeners. It was highlighted, or lowlighted, by a brush with the law in Clovis, NM, which resulted in nothing much, as we were falsely accused anyway (wink, wink) as well as enjoying time with Saved by the Bell's "Screech" (actor Justin Diamond). The Fullerton regional saw the Hecklers go yell-to-yell with the Sun Devil dude, as well as a few Sun Devil fans who felt they were much superior to us. During the comeback win, there were several fun and memorable exchanges between the spirited fans as the game went late into the night.