President George H.W. Bush was fond of saying, “90 percent of life is just showing up.”
If that’s true, Scott Wilson knew the meaning of life.
Wilson, who died Friday at 74, showed up. A Texas Longhorn superfan, Wilson spent decades attending UT games. Every one of them for 25 years. Five hundred and ninety-four football games in a row — home and away. He attended 1,564 straight baseball games — home and away. Countless basketball games, volleyball games, golf tournaments, tennis matches, cross-country — both men’s and women’s. Hell, if Texas had had a curling team, Wilson would have skidded across the ice to cheer them on.
He was in Razorback Stadium as a member of the Longhorn band in 1969 when Darell Royal’s Texas Longhorns beat Arkansas for the national championship 15-14. He was there when Earl Campbell scored four touchdowns to lead the Horns to a 1977 Cotton Bowl title over the University of Houston, when Vince Young ran for the roses in 2005, and when Ricky Williams broke Tony Dorsett’s rushing record. He was there for every one of the 241 college strikeouts Roger Clemens notched. And he was there when a skinny kid from Maryland named Kevin Durant first walked out on the college basketball court.
I met Wilson more than 40 years ago. It was the early 80s, and I hung out at UT baseball games with an obnoxious, hilarious brotherhood of knuckleheads who called themselves the Wild Bunch. Wilson was already a veteran, having begun his remarkable streaks in the 70s.
Wilson was deeply knowledgeable, wholly irascible, funny as hell, and passionate about supporting the team. He got to know hundreds of players, their parents, girlfriends, and, in time, their kids.
When my son, The Barbed Wire’s own Billy Begala, attended games and shot off Smokey the Cannon as one of the Texas Cowboys, he got to know Wilson too. By then, Occupy Left Field had replaced the Wild Bunch, but no one replaced Wilson. He and Billy became friends: two generations forged in the shared agony and ecstasy of college sports.
Wilson — I rarely called him by his first name, and he rarely used mine — had a burnt-orange Cadillac with Longhorn horns mounted on the hood. His car, and his presence, became famous all over the country. His home in Northeast Austin was a shrine to UT athletics. If Longhorn Nation had a Capitol building, Wilson’s living room would be the rotunda.
Back in the dark ages before beer was sold in Longhorn stadiums, Wilson would lead a parade of lifelong friends and folks at their first game out to the parking lot, where he’d have a cooler full of beer stashed in his trunk.
Yes, the word “fan” is short for fanatic. But Wilson always kept the humanity of the players and coaches at the top of his mind. If a shortstop muffed an easy grounder, Wilson would forgive and encourage. He was a Pied Piper of fanhood, and I was honored to be one of his followers.
Wilson was what’s best in sports, especially college sports — and extra-especially Texas sports.
He lived by an essential truth: That the meaning of life is found in devoting yourself to a cause larger than yourself. For Wilson, like millions of folks, that cause was found in sports. But it wasn’t merely sports; it was community. It was family. It was the transcendent feeling of experiencing the same intense emotions with a hundred thousand other people at the exact same moment.
Wilson makes me think of perhaps the greatest speech ever given in a movie. Henry Fonda, as Tom Joad in “The Grapes of Wrath,” is trying to explain to his mother his philosophy of life — and why he has to leave and risk his life to help his fellow migrant farmworker unionize: “Well, maybe like Casey says, a fella ain’t got a soul of his own, but only a piece of a big one. An’ then… it don’t matter. Then I’ll be all aroun’ in the dark. I’ll be everywhere — wherever you look.”
Wilson was a burnt orange piece of a great big soul. His seat at UFCU Disch-Falk field — Section 3, Row 8, Seat 1 — will forever be hallowed ground. As of Friday, that throne is now covered in flowers and notes. There is a plaque with his name. Wilson’s bleacher seat at DKR is haunted by nearly a half-century of hollering and heartache. It breaks my heart that on Saturday, for the first time in decades, the Longhorns will take the field without Scott Wilson cheering them on. But in the Tom Joad sense, he’ll be there.
Wilson never married, never had kids. But he damn sure had a family. It extended beyond UT fans. I’d walk around Omaha with him during the College World Series, which he would attend even when Texas didn’t qualify. Walking around a sporting event with Wilson was like walking around the Vatican with the Pope. There were no strangers for Wilson; if you were a fan, you were a friend. That applied to TSU and TCU; Texas Tech and UT Rio Grande Valley. Not sure it applied to Aggies or Sooners, though. There are limits, you know.
At a time when we seem more atomized than ever, Scott Wilson’s life stands for community. It stands for family — the bigger, the louder, the messier the better. It stands for the ineffable joy of shared experiences — IRL, as the kids say. Wilson stands for screaming at a game with 100,000 friends, rather than streaming it alone. Above all, he stands for showing up,
Scott Wilson was a big part of something bigger than himself. And his spirit will always show up… til Gabriel blows his horn.
Wilson, a lawyer by trade, was hospitalized while traveling to see the Texas football team play at Florida on Oct. 4. It would have been his 595th game. The following tributes were shared by John Bianco and Josh White of UT Athletics.
Legendary football coach Mack Brown
“One of the things that truly separates college athletics is the passion, pride, and spirit of its fans. There is no greater fan anywhere than Scott Wilson. He has supported his Longhorns since he was a kid, through all the Coach Royal era and beyond. You could always count on seeing him in burnt orange with his Horns Up high every Saturday at home and away. Just an incredibly caring fan and person who will always be remembered for the love and support he gave to all Texas sports for generations.”
Quarterback Colt McCoy
“There’s nothing like playing for the Longhorns, running out to the roar of more than 100,000 fans at Darrell K Royal-Texas Memorial Stadium. It’s those fans that make wearing the burnt orange and white so special and Scott Wilson is one of those that really stands out among the most passionate and supportive. He was front and center every game — home and away — always cheering his heart out and whether it was a pregame, during the game or postgame he’d flash you that Hook ‘Em and a smile and you knew he had your back.”
Wide receiver Quan Cosby
“Scott — aka ‘the standard’ as I call him — is arguably the best Longhorn fan we all know. Good, bad, or indifferent, he showed up, and he supported multiple sports in an unwavering way. The run of players and coaches he built friendships with and the group of fans he loyally joined every game to cheer on his Longhorns is pretty remarkable. I’m truly in awe of his dedication and been personally so blessed by his support.”
Pitching legend Huston Street
“Scott Wilson was a leader. He was the unofficial mascot, the ringleader and the most loyal fan — a true friend always with hope. He became a tradition, a rite of passage to know him and to earn his respect. He was always there, Horns Up, and loving every second of it — not for himself but for the Texas Longhorns family. He is a Longhorn legend and a tradition to be remembered forever.”
Head baseball coach Jim Schlossnagle
“When you think about what makes Texas Baseball so special, it always comes back to the people — and Scott Wilson is one of those people who truly embodied everything this program stands for. Scott’s been there through it all — from Opening Days to national championship runs — always wearing his burnt orange, always supporting our players and coaches with the same energy and love for the game. You could always count on seeing him in the stands, cheering, smiling and leading the Eyes of Texas. Scott Wilson will always be remembered for his unwavering loyalty and support, as a member of our Texas Baseball family.”
Longhorn legend Keith Moreland
The Major League Baseball veteran and television commentator interviewed Wilson when he attended his 1,500th game. He shared the following:
“No one person was more passionate about Texas Longhorns Athletics than Scott Wilson. He was always there, cheering, supporting and doing everything he could to help the team. Scott didn’t just attend games, he lived every moment of Texas sports with genuine pride and heart. You could always count on seeing him in burnt orange and making everyone around him feel part of something special. His love for this University and its teams was constant and contagious. Scott Wilson will forever be a Longhorn legend, remembered not just for his incredible streak of support, but for the person he was.”
