Why You Should Root for the TCU Horned Frogs

Today the TCU Horned Frogs are playing football against the Badgers in the Rose Bowl. The Badgers are from Wisconsin, I think. I don’t have anything against them, but I don’t have anything for them either. They do have an interesting mascot (as opposed to say, a cougar or a bear), but their mascot cannot compete with the Purple Horned Frog. So I am hoping that their football skills cannot compete with TCU’s either.

I do know some things about TCU, however, and I am going to share them with you. Once you hear about TCU, you will want to root for the Horned Frogs too. First, let’s address the Horned Frog thing. What’s especially cool about the horned frog is that it is native to the TCU area (that is, northern Texas). The choosers of the TCU mascot showed a lot of honesty and integrity by picking the horned frog. They were not showy or ambitious. They were not claiming an ancient culture like the Trojans or falsely implying that actual giant cats like tigers roamed the streets of Fort Worth. Instead, they focused on what was unique about the area and bravely faced ridicule by settling on an animal so small and funny-looking.

People in north Texas and other parts where the actual animal the horned frog roams the earth are more likely to call it a horned lizard or a horny toad. I am not sure why TCU calls it a frog instead. Perhaps the word "frog" is just more interesting and friendly than "toad." Perhaps they wanted to be even more unique. Perhaps they were hoping to create controversy. In any case, I think it shows a willingness to be wrong that is valuable and rare in this culture.

Rural barefoot kids like my dad used to chase horny toads in the dusty fields of southern Oklahoma and northern Texas. They’d catch them and keep them in shoeboxes to look at and ponder over. However, they were not cuddly pets. They may be comical-looking, but they have a fierceness about them. Their spiny skin can hurt and they shoot liquid from their eyes.

This horned frog mascot reveals a lot about the kind of school that TCU is. When outsiders hear "Texas Christian University," they might be skeptical. They might think that a religious, private, smaller, Texas university is different from the big public football powerhouses. Maybe the students are pampered. Maybe they are conservative. Maybe they say "y’all."

Well, there’s some truth to those assumptions. There’s some drawling on the TCU campus. Walking past Amon G. Carter Stadium (or where it used to be; it was just imploded to make room for a new one), one might see some shiny red cars in the parking lot or pass some sorority girls in shoes that cost more than my wedding dress.

But TCU is more than that. It is also a place where the fierce and funny-looking can find a spot. Its Disciples of Christ roots give it a foundation of values but also a strong tradition of religious tolerance and openness to discussion. The Honors College has a challenging program that seeks to graduate students with a deep and interdisciplinary understanding of Western culture and history. TCU students come from Connecticut, Iowa, Arizona, and across the oceans, as well as from Plano and Dallas. Some come to TCU to study nursing or fashion design or the business of ranching, but by the time they leave, they have received a solid liberal arts education.

TCU is a place that is small enough to feel like home. A Horned Frog’s advisor knows her by name. A swing hangs from a tree outside one residence hall, and the green patch of land between two others hosts quilts full of sunbathers and studiers every spring. Students generally live and eat on one side of University Drive and walk across it to attend calculus or biology or Spanish class on the other side.

TCU also has a bigness that is befitting for a school in Texas. Its students are learning about the larger world and long traditions. Horned Frogs may come to TCU feeling small, prickly, and a little self-conscious about being purple. But four years in Fort Worth helps a frog realize that he can find a fit somewhere. TCU is not a tiny regional narrow-minded school. TCU Horned Frogs are competitive nationally:  as alumni of a strong, solid university, and as football players in a bowl game. They deserve respect and support.

My husband is a traditionalist and it upsets him that a Pac-10 team is not in the Rose Bowl. So I ask him, "Bugs, do you really want someone from the Big Ten to win this thing?" That shuts him up, which, as you probably know almost as well as I do, is hard to do. So please, won’t you join us in rooting for my Horned Frogs, Huskies? If it helps, look at all that purple in the Rose Bowl today and just pretend.