Walking into the press conference, head coach Steve Sarkisian makes haste to the podium. He’s eight minutes behind schedule, usually uncommon for a man considered to be a stickler for time management. His forehead is sweaty — probably literally from the Texas heat, but metaphorically, it is a stressful reminder of where his program is. Once No. 1 in the AP poll, Texas is now unranked.
“Just to recap the last ball game,” Sarkisian said to open the press conference. “It just was not a very good start to the ball game for us.”
Sarkisian’s opening statement during the game preview sang an old tune. The intro notes of “they really controlled the ball,” followed by the opening verse of “I did not think we played well on either side of the ball,” then accompanied by the pre-chorus, “we are more than capable to perform better than that.”
And of course, the chorus: “We just need to play better.”
Then came the questioning. Sarkisian first addressed the struggles of the offensive line.
“Gotta play better, gotta coach better,” he said.
The next question was a reporter asking about the strategy for building the o-line over the offseason. Sarkisian didn’t want to play hypotheticals.
“Like I said, we gotta coach better, gotta play better.”
Sarkisian has sung a similar chorus all season. Coming off the loss to Ohio State, he spoke of being better at playing complementary football. The eerie win against San Jose State the following week concluded with a question where Sarkisan was asked about o-line execution.
“We’ve got to be better, more detailed there,” he said.
“Better” is a similar word that comes up at almost every press conference. Semantic sensation kicks in when you analyze it. Sarkisian is stuck on it.
It’s nothing less than a metaphor of Texas football’s current cycle. It’s been said so often that it’s losing its meaning. “Better” has become less of a goal and more of a placeholder. A word that fills the silence while everyone else waits for true, lasting improvement.
Each week, the verse changes — different opponents, different mistakes — but the chorus never does. The words blur together. Improvement remains the hope, but the outcome remains the same.
Sarkisian doesn’t flinch when he says it. Even with sweat across his forehead, his bodily expressions stay alike. Almost automatic, like a lyric he memorized long ago. At some point, better loses meaning to the ears of the Texas faithful.
What will be sung after the Cotton Bowl? Will the ‘ol tune return to next Monday’s press conference, or will Sarkisian harp a new song, one Texas fans have yet to hear this season?
As his roster, his coaching staff and his supporters prepare for No. 6 Oklahoma next week, only one thing can give the word “better” a change of tone:
A statement win — one in which there won’t be just noise this time, but a symphony instead.
