No rah-rah needed

It was halftime — 24 minutes finished and 24 to go.

Twenty-four minutes of playing time until Permian pulled off a win that ignited this slumbering giant of Texas high school football history; 24 to go until the Panthers scaled the state rankings and finally earned recognition again.

Recognized not as the school that inspired a book, a movie and a television series and certainly not as the team once as downtrodden as the oil economy depicted in “Friday Night Lights.”

But acclaimed as a top-10 power, a team that truly got its Mojo back.

Halfway to glory.

Halfway to the statewide respect these young men saw ebb like a seismic wave from Odessa since 1998 when they were in grade school.

And the tide never fully turned back.

Until this night — maybe.

Maybe because it was halftime and no one knew which way the game would turn at that point. The Panthers only led 10-3 over Euless Trinity, the No. 5 Class 5A team in the state, winner of 26 of its last 28 games and a 2005 state championship team.

Shoot, if this isn’t the most important state-level, non-district game Permian has had since the turn of the millennium. And the Panthers were winning it with the national television audience watching since the 6:30 p.m. kickoff on Fox Sports Net.

The Permian band paraded onto the field and paid tribute to three Odessa police officers recently killed in the line of duty. The concession stand lines filled up as the home stands emptied.

Situated below Ratliff Stadium’s home stands, the Permian locker room smelled ripe like sweat socks. Some 70 or so black-shirted teenaged boys protected under modern-day armor swelled inside.

Humidity that this dry West Texas desert rarely sees pressed against the cinderblock walls and concrete floor like a suffocating headache. The heat poured from the doorway some 20 degrees hotter than the September night air outside.

The sweat dripped, while the players caught their breath.

The coaching staff had 15 minutes before the third quarter to regroup, adjust and make sure the game plan remained on point. First, the staff met outside before breaking down the team in position groups and finally reassembling for head coach Darren Allman’s remarks to the players.

Halftime is where a football team takes it and runs away with glory because of the wildfire lit under it by a rousing coach speech — or so it seems in fictional depic-tions.

When a team comes out of the midway break and tears an opponent apart, it forces reporters to ask the mundane question about what the coach said at halftime to inspire such an enlivened performance.

So when a 7-point lead against an overpowering Metroplex team turned into a 27-point victory, Allman had to have given his best Knute Rockne impersonation to really fire up his team for its second-half blowout.

Yes, win one for the Gipper.

Well, not exactly.

This halftime didn’t require the rah-rah speech, especially midway through a white-knuckle, dry-throated football game, Allman said later.

If players aren’t already hyped on their own, Allman believes it’s unlikely that a coach’s speech can ignite them into a tackling frenzy.

“There’s a time and a place for that, especially after halftime if they aren’t responding or their heads are not in the game,” Allman said later.

Just a week before, Permian cruised into halftime with a 21-7 lead over Amarillo Tascosa. A more relaxed team calmly listened to their position coaches when they broke down into groups. Allman kept them focused on execut-ing and not letting up.

“We try to say things of substance,” Allman said.

Ohio State coach Woody Hayes famously unstitched his hat so it would fall apart to get his players’ attentions or so the legend goes. Other coaches have been known to slam fists into walls, chalkboards or lockers.

Halftime in the Permian Basin is more about focusing energy than creating it.

The same controlled, decided mood during Permian’s midway break against Tascosa permeated Crane’s locker room after it dominated Junction 24-0 at halftime.

And even midway through Midland High’s 40-7 season-opening loss to Rockwall High when the Bulldogs trailed 33-0, Midland High head coach Craig Yenzer’s speech focused more on proving something and teaching than lighting up his team for mistakes.

It was early in the season and spitting fire wouldn’t have motivated the Bulldogs, Yenzer believed.

“At that point in the game, the jumping and hollering and screaming, it’s counterproductive,” Yenzer said. “Here’s my philosophy: Out of a 10-game schedule, there are one or two times that you kick the trash bucket. And of course, those times have to be sincere. If you do it every week, the kids start looking at you like ‘This guy is crazy.’ ”

While a deflated Midland High entered halftime at Grande Communications Stadium in the opening week, a more bouncy, wild Permian squad filled Ratliff Stadium’s home locker room against Trinity.

The players in position groups listened to their coaches intensely and answered questions. The linebackers shook their heads in agreement as coach Matt Anastacio told the inside linebackers not to get fooled and trust their keys when reading Trinity’s offense.

But when they formed a tight circle around Allman, the Panthers who were quiet just eight days ago against Tascosa were now hooting and hollering.

“Let’s show them what West Texas football is all about,” one player shouted from a sea of white helmets surrounding Allman, who stood calmly in the middle.

“Represent 4-3-2, West Texas baby,” another player screamed in reference to the local area code.

The spectacle — national television cameras, a state-ranked opponent, a packed home side stands — was already in place for the Trinity game. And Allman knew it. In some ways, it was obvious.

So he firmly smoothed out the hype.

“Listen to me,” he said pronouncing each word with emphasis on the last syllable.

“You have not done anything yet. Let me tell you. You have not finished them yet.”

He then drew attention away from the success of the first half and subtlety challenged his players for more.

“… We have to keep on getting better right now.”

That’s it.

No Gipper.

No hat being tossed across the room.

No speech that pulled at the heartstrings the way Billy Bob Thornton did as Gary Gaines with his fictionalized “Friday Night Lights” perfection speech.

Allman was on point. This was no time to relax with a 7-point lead on a state-ranked team.

“I felt like it was real easy for them to be able to sit around with a smile on their faces,” Allman said later. “But with the intensity of the game and the caliber of the team, truly there wasn’t any room to relax at all. I didn’t see one person smile. If I did, I would have addressed it and made a point of it.”

Instead it was adjustments, focus and attention inside Permian’s locker room.

And in the end a 30-3 victory. Something that permitted smiles.