Steve Worster was larger than life, and he put a stamp on college football that changed the sport for a time. Who of my vintage doesn’t remember those “Raging Bull” Sports Illustrated cover photos of Worster running roughshod over fallen defenders through holes that looked like Palo Duro Canyon?
The Wishbone was as big as Texas. It was in your face, arrogant, audacious, irresistible and seemingly boundless. And it was Royal.
But Worster himself, while more than confident, was also a very humble man. He was also much smaller physically than you’d think or remember. He would not in any way be considered a “big back” today.
Steve maxed out his goals in football. He was a high school legend at Bridge City, was the lynchpin of two national championship teams at Texas, built lifelong relationships with teammates, coaches and opponents, and had an appreciation for the “romance” of the Canadian Football League, where he toiled for a time with the Hamilton Tiger-Cats.
Then he quietly turned the page. Steve never rejected football. He simply moved on from it. Some misinterpreted his low-key pursuit of privacy. He was neither a recluse nor a hermit.
He was a gentle man. And a gentleman.
I found him to be an uncommonly nice and interesting human.