Sport: Pflugerville

To the German-descended citizens of Pflugerville, Texas (pop.: 400), the most important things in life, in approximate order, are chores, church and football. White-faced cattle graze on Pflugerville’s gently rolling farms, and snowy cotton flourishes in the rich Blacklands soil. On the Sabbath, almost the whole town turns out at the Lutheran church. But Friday is football day, and then placid Pflugerville twangs with tension. Each time the high school’s Pflugerville Panthers take the field, they carry with them the winningest record in schoolboy football. In 52 straight games, stretching back to 1957, Pflugerville High is unbeaten and untied.

Technically the Panthers play class-B ball—not in the same league as the class-AAAA juggernauts from the big-city schools in Dallas. But to the 1,000 or more fiercely partisan fans who cram old Fritz Pfluger’s renovated cow pasture for each home game, they seem as good as the pros. Since 1958 they have scored 2,073 points to the opposition’s 223, and it looks as if it may be Pflugerville über alles forever. Toddlers practice cross-body blocks under the goal posts while the high-schoolers pummel their opponents on the field. Fourth-graders get written permission from their mothers to play tackle football, and organized competition begins in the fifth grade. The junior high school team has not lost a game since 1956.

Minor Scandal. By the time the youngsters get to high school, they are fully indoctrinated. There are only 40 boys in school—and all but nine suit up for the team. Seven do not play because they are ineligible, one because he is team manager, and one because his parents won’t let him. In football-fanatic Pflugerville, this is a scandal. “We think it’s terrible,” says Coach Charles Kuempel, 30. ”While the other boys are playing football, he’s in the study hall—with girls.”

Except for 17-year-old Quarterback Joseph Weiss, who stands 6 ft. 4 in. and tips the scales at an even 200 Ibs., most Panthers look like refugees from the Pop Warner League. Joe’s cousin, Willard Hebbe, who plays slotback, weighs 135 Ibs. Freshman Lineman Danny Steger has seen action in three of the Panthers’ five games this season; he weighs 90 Ibs. Says the Rev. Wilson Hill, pastor of Immanuel Lutheran Church, who doubles as spotter at Panther games: “There’s something in these Pflugerville boys that makes them want to make contact.”

Milk & Eggs. Whatever that something is, it has a powerful effect. So far this season, the Panthers have outscored their cowed opponents, 264 to 24, have yet to come within four touchdowns of defeat. Fortnight ago, after Pflugerville polished off Burton, 45-6, a big-city sportswriter stormed into the Panther dressing room. “What the hell makes you boys win like you do?” he demanded. The Panthers silently mulled that one over. “Milk and eggs?” one player finally ventured. Corrected a rival coach: “I’d say it was more likely raw meat and gunpowder.”