The Big 12 has been defined by spread offenses for years now but every level of football is coming to be dominated by the "hurry-up, no-huddle" style of spread. How did the Big 12 conference, with its smaller populations and flyover country, become the frontier for a trend that is defining modern football?

An authoritative history of the nation's fourth-winningest college football program is lavishly illustrated with two hundred photographs of the legendary players and coaches, historic games, and unique traditions of the Texas Longhorns from the University of Texas at Austin.

Dana Loesch believes in Christianity, patriotism, traditional marriage, and the right to bear arms, among other “quaint” ideas. For the elites in DC, Los Angeles, New York, and Silicon Valley, that makes her as bizarre as a three-headed dog. Loesch is alarmed that America is fracturing into two countries—not North and South, but Coastal and Flyover. Worse, the people in charge don’t understand the first thing about how most of the country thinks and lives. Consider a few examples . . . • In Flyover America, people believe criminals should be punished. Coastal America focuses on “rehabilitation.” • Flyovers think the Declaration of Independence was crystal clear: “All men are created equal.” For Coastals, Black Lives Matter—but anyone who adds that all lives matter must be a racist. • Coastals think they understand firearms because they watched a TV movie about Columbine. Fly- overs get a deer rifle for their thirteenth birthday. • Coastals talk about blue-collar workers in the abstract. Flyovers have a relative who works the night shift in a granola bar factory, where the big perk is taking home a bag full of granola bars every Friday. • Coastals think every problem—from hurt feelings to the cost of birth control—requires government intervention and huge federal spending. Flyovers know that money isn’t magic fairy dust, and many problems can be solved only by individual character and hard work. It would all be funny—if Coastals weren’t winning on most of today’s big issues. As Loesch writes, “Most of these pinkies-out, cocktail- drinking-appletini fans selfishly entertain grandiose plans of economic equality without realizing the negative impact their plans would have on the very people they pride themselves on helping. That’s the true class warfare.” Loesch shines the light of truth on everything from feminism to gun violence to abortion. She reveals the damage done by elitists who flat-out don’t get the lives and values of people in the heart of the country. And she asks commonsense questions such as: How can you be angry at Walmart if you’ve never shopped in one? How can you hate the police if you’ve never needed help from a cop? How can you attack Christians if you don’t have a single friend who goes to church? In other words, how can you run a country you’ve never been to? And how much could our politics improve if Coastals would actually listen to their fellow Americans? This book is a rallying cry for anyone who wants our leaders to understand and respect the culture that made America exceptional in the first place.

On December 6, 1969, the Texas Longhorns and Arkansas Razorbacks met in what many consider the Game of the Century. In the centennial season of college football, both teams were undefeated; both featured devastating and innovative offenses; both boasted cerebral, stingy defenses; and both were coached by superior tacticians and stirring motivators, Texas's Darrell Royal and Arkansas's Frank Broyles. On that day in Fayetteville, the poll-leading Horns and second-ranked Hogs battled for the Southwest Conference title -- and President Nixon was coming to present his own national championship plaque to the winners. Even if it had been just a game, it would still have been memorable today. The bitter rivals played a game for the ages before a frenzied, hog-callin' crowd that included not only an enthralled President Nixon -- a noted football fan -- but also Texas congressman George Bush. And the game turned, improbably, on an outrageously daring fourth-down pass. But it wasn't just a game, because nothing was so simple in December 1969. In Horns, Hogs, & Nixon Coming, Terry Frei deftly weaves the social, political, and athletic trends together for an unforgettable look at one of the landmark college sporting events of all time. The week leading up to the showdown saw black student groups at Arkansas, still marginalized and targets of virulent abuse, protesting and seeking to end the use of the song "Dixie" to celebrate Razorback touchdowns; students were determined to rush the field during the game if the band struck up the tune. As the United States remained mired in the Vietnam War, sign-wielding demonstrators (including war veterans) took up their positions outside the stadium -- in full view of the president. That same week, Rhodes Scholar Bill Clinton penned a letter to the head of the ROTC program at the University of Arkansas, thanking the colonel for shielding him from induction into the military earlier in the year. Finally, this game was the last major sporting event that featured two exclusively white teams. Slowly, inevitably, integration would come to the end zones and hash marks of the South, and though no one knew it at the time, the Texas vs. Arkansas clash truly was Dixie's Last Stand. Drawing from comprehensive research and interviews with coaches, players, protesters, professors, and politicians, Frei stitches together an intimate, electric narrative about two great teams -- including one player who, it would become clear only later, was displaying monumental courage just to make it onto the field -- facing off in the waning days of the era they defined. Gripping, nimble, and clear-eyed, Horns, Hogs, & Nixon Coming is the final word on the last of how it was.

These compelling stories offer a detailed look at a part of the country many Americans only glimpse through an airplane window from 30,000 feet—the small towns of the rural Midwest. The characters here—struggling to raise children and build a better future, or just to escape their past; searching for connection on social media and longing for the glory days of youth, even as they put on pounds and lose hair; good citizens, and criminals—populate a landscape of emotional peaks and valleys far more varied and interesting than the flat physical terrain they inhabit. They are the people we’ve left behind when we moved to the city, or the people we’ve become. They are us.

The Packers the only fan-owned team in any of North America's major pro sports leagues-- and Green Bay (population 104,057) is the smallest city with a big-time franchise. They're unlikely candidates to be pro football's preeminent team-- yet nobody in the NFL has won more championships. In honor of the team's 100th anniversary, Beech paints compelling pictures of a franchise, a town, and a fan base-- from the days of the French fur traders who settled on the shores of La Baie in the seventeenth century, to the team's pursuit of its fourteenth NFL championship. -- adapted from jacket