A ruckus erupted on the sideline. Texas had driven inside the Buffaloes’ 20-yard line looking to add to its 19-14 lead as the third quarter was expiring.
And Colorado’s 1990 team was looking at a 1-2-1 start in the blistering heat of Austin unless it turned things around.
On the sideline, CU’s firebrand 5-foot-8 tailback, Eric Bieniemy, couldn’t hold his frustration any longer. Two decades later, his tantrum is still remembered as a turning point in Colorado’s 1990 national championship season.
As the quarter ended, CU’s offense huddled with the defense, which was changing sides of the field.
“I don’t know if it was a rant. It was one of those opportunities getting everybody to understand the moment in time we were in,” Bieniemy recalled in a phone conversation. “I basically wanted to call the team up and say: ‘Hey, defense, we have your back. Go out and make this stop and offensively we’ll get it done.’ “
Coach Bill McCartney remembers the incident too.
“I’m on the 20, and I can’t help but turn, and I notice the 11 offensive starters in a huddle,” he said.
Whatever Bieniemy said, it must have worked. The defense went from what McCartney called “emotionally bankrupt” to digging in and holding the Longhorns to a field goal, making it 22-14. CU roared back to win 29-22, with Bieniemy scoring two touchdowns and Alfred Williams recording a huge sack to start a 10-game winning streak to the national championship.
“E.B. was at a different level. He was motivating once he got out there with us,” strong safety Tim James said. “That was the point. We looked at each other and said, ‘Let’s get out of here with a win.’ “
It’s just one of the many stories that will be retold as the 1990 team celebrates its 20-year reunion this weekend in conjunction with Saturday’s game against Georgia. In another twist of fate, Bieniemy, now the Minnesota Vikings’ running backs coach, has a bye this weekend.
“That was a Bieniemy moment; it certainly was the turning point,” said former wingback Mike Pritchard, the team MVP and its highest draft pick. “We had Bieniemy moments, but we also had Darian Hagan moments and Alfred Williams moments. I think at one point everybody stood up.”
Even with a big ensemble of playmakers and leaders, “E.B. was the understood leader,” said then-quarterback Charles Johnson. “We wouldn’t have won the national championship if not for E.B. . . . There was a little Napoleon in him.”
The 1989-90 seasons featured a cast of characters with larger-than- life personalities, foremost among them McCartney, a charismatic motivator who cajoled the Buffs to a championship run against a brutal schedule. He found talent in some of the toughest neighborhoods in the country, from Houston to Detroit to Los Angeles, and molded it into a tight-knit unit.
“If you look at guys like us, we were high risk,” said Johnson, who grew up in Detroit. “There was a survival mentality to the team. . . . We used to fight in practice at least once a week.”
McCartney wasn’t without his own quirks, manufacturing a rivalry with Nebraska years before it became one. He banished the color red from facilities. A defensive coordinator by trade, he constantly tweaked his offensive schemes.
From the championship team, nine players were drafted into the NFL the following year and another nine over the following two years. Four assistant coaches went on to run their own programs.
CU’s 1989 season was all about overcoming adversity off the field when quarterback Sal Aunese died of cancer. The Buffs went 11-o in the regular season, and only the Nebraska and Oklahoma games were close. In 1990, many games went down to the wire, including the 10-9 Orange Bowl victory over Notre Dame.
“Without the 1989 season, it wouldn’t have inspired the 1990 season,” Bieniemy said.
That season began with a tie against Tennessee in Anaheim, Calif., in the opener, then a one-point loss at Illinois in the third game.
“We started so horribly,” center Jay Leeuwenburg said. “We were reading our press clippings and believed we were that good.”
Game days weren’t the only adversity for McCartney’s Buffs. His practices made Saturdays seem easy.
“Coach Mac coached toughness,” James said. “Tuesdays and Wednesday were two- or three-Tylenol days before we even went out there. You knew you were going to have a headache.”
Today, teams talk about chemistry. Back then, the McCartney-Bieniemy relationship was spontaneous combustion.
“Like oil and water,” said Hagan, the ex-quarterback and now the Buffs’ running backs coach. “They got after each other.”
McCartney remembers well a game at Oklahoma when Bieniemy was a freshman.
“This guy kept bumping into me on the sideline,” McCartney said. “He was a 5-6, 190-pound freshman. He was so competitive, so wired, I had to tell him, ‘Get back.’ He was fired and inspired. He was the single most emotional person who ever played at CU.”
It took awhile for a mutual appreciation to grow, however. Bieniemy was suspended for the opener against Tennessee for an off-field issue, and there were more than a few times he pushed the envelope, testing his coach.
Asked if he regretted the aggravation he caused McCartney, Bieniemy said with a laugh, “Not at all.”
He added: “You know what? Those were growing pains in my life. Without some of the aggravation moments, I wouldn’t be in the (position) I’m in today. Coach Mac had a great great influence on my life. I didn’t realize that until I left the university.”
Natalie Meisler: 303-954-1295 or nmeisler@denverpost.com
