Hitting a Hole for History: Roosevelt Leaks and the University of Texas ( Aug 11, 2024)

by Scott Sosebee

College football is about to kick off once again, and in Texas that is almost a religious event. One thing that I suppose many people are excited about is that this year will be the first season that the University of Texas will be a member of the Southeastern Conference, which in recent years has come to dominate college football. Those who know me know I am a committed Texas Tech Red Raider, but—although I am loathe to admit it—I grew up a big University of Texas football fan. I came by such an affliction naturally as my paternal great-grandmother was the most full-throated UT fan I have ever known. Although I was very young, I have a hazy memory of how exhilarated Mee-Maw was when the ‘Horns won the 1969 National Championship. Of course, I finally matured, came to my senses, matriculated at Texas Tech to become a die-hard Red Raider, and left any attachment to the Longhorns I may have had behind. But I suppose there just may be a small, tiny, minuscule bit of appreciation for “that school in Austin,” if for no other reason than to honor Mee-Maw’s memory.

I learned much later that Mee-Maw’s beloved 1969 squad carried a special distinction; it was the last all-white team to win college football’s national championship. The nation and college football was changing, and the hideous practice of segregation and Jim Crow had begun to end, paving the way for African Americans to finally be able to compete in sports as well as get an education at all the nation’s schools. Change had begun, but it did not mean that everyone welcomed it, and at many universities across the South—and Texas—protests, tension, and violence often accompanied integration efforts.

Campuses needed to find something that could unite those whose race had divided for centuries, and in Texas, a potential avenue was sports—more specifically football, which some still consider a major religion in the state. Coach Hayden Fry at Southern Methodist and Bill Yeoman at the University of Houston were the earliest pioneers who recruited African American athletes—Jerry Levias at SMU and Warren McVea at UH—and helped to create conditions that would allow integrated teams to compete. SMU’s efforts created headlines and precedent, but make no mistake, the “big fish” that integration needed to reel in was the University of Texas. When UT finally integrated its football team, it would truly make the state’s citizens take notice.

Such background brings us to the story of a small-town hero who would change the course of not only the University of Texas’ football fortunes but also help bring the entire state closer to the true ideals of racial acceptance. Roosevelt Leaks grew up on a farm near Brenham, a true son of the Texas soil. Leaks’ father scratched out a living on a small plot of land in much the same way his grandfather had done years earlier. Roosevelt Leaks was big, fast, and strong—perfectly suited for Royal’s then radical and revolutionary “wishbone” offense. He would not be the first African American to play football at UT; that would be San Antonio’s Julius Whittier in 1970 (Whittier died in 2018 at the young age of 68). But, Leaks was the first “star,” the first black All-American at the school.

Leaks began his career as a sophomore in 1972 (freshmen were ineligible for varsity football at that time) and immediately had an impact. He became the primary cog in the offense; in one game, he carried the ball 20 times in a quarter! Royal and Emory Ballard had designed the wishbone to feature all three backs, to be an offense of trickery and misdirection. Roosevelt Leaks, though, made the fullback the focal point of the offense, and his signature was brute strength and straight-ahead speed.

Leaks became a national phenomenon in 1973. He rushed for 342 yards against SMU and gained more than 1400 yards for the year. The Longhorn team finished 8-3 that year, a little below their usual 1970s standard, but Leaks became a first-team All-American—the first African American from the University of Texas to achieve such an honor. Most were certain that 1974 would be an even bigger and better campaign, but during spring drills, Leaks suffered what Darrell Royal once described as the “worst injury he had ever seen.” During a drill, a teammate fell on his knee and tore every ligament.

Medical science in 1974 was not as advanced as it is today; Leaks faced a long, painful, and what most considered a fruitless recovery. But he accomplished what many considered to be a medical miracle. He made a much more rapid recovery, and when the 1974 season opened, he suited up and took the field. However, he was not the same back he had been. Every step he took was painful, and he did not have the same burst but he still played significant minutes. Darrell Royal admitted that it was painful to watch him try to play, but that he also did not have the heart to bench someone who had worked so hard and for which he had so much admiration. He did have to give up his starting job to a freshman fullback from Tyler (the NCAA had made freshmen able to play varsity sports in 1972). Perhaps you have heard of Earl Campbell? Still, Leaks finished the season and even played in the NFL with the Buffalo Bills and the Baltimore Colts, although he never really recovered from his gruesome injury.

Integration was not easy, and our nation still faces some significant hurdles before we have true racial equality. Sports had a hand in making some of that progress possible, and perhaps more “palatable” for some. Roosevelt Leaks, a shy farmer’s son from Brenham, was a brave pioneer in the fight for civil rights, and he did so by being an example for those who would come after him. And being really, really hard to tackle.

The East Texas Historical Association provides this column as a public service. Scott Sosebee is a Professor of History at Stephen F. Austin State University and the Executive Director of the Association. He can be contacted at sosebeem@sfasu.edu or via www.easttexashistorical.org.