By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
For many of the 2,338 who live in this quiet community 80 miles northeast of Dallas, life offers no greater joy than following the Friday night football fortunes of the Cooper High School Bulldogs, past and present.
Even as a new group of teenagers labor through steamy after-school workouts on the edge of town in preparation for the new season, those who set the standards they aspire to have not been forgotten. Back in the '30s, brothers Marshall and Ed Robnett played for the Bulldogs before going on to continue their athletic careers at Texas A&M, then to the National Football League. Marshall ultimately played for the Pittsburgh Steelers, Ed for the San Francisco 49ers. They still talk of the 1958 season when Joe Scott, Tom Landry's old New York Giants teammate, came here to launch his own coaching career.
And, of course, there's the remarkable Morris family.
The recruiting war between Oklahoma and Texas Christian University for the services of running back J.C. Morris in the late '70s is legendary. According to the local lore, then-Sooners coach Barry Switzer all but lived in Cooper for weeks in an effort to get Morris to sign. There are stories of the youngster being hidden in motels in Norman before a member of the TCU staff located him, kidnapped him, and drove him back home, stopping at a roadside park along the way to sign him to a Horned Frogs scholarship agreement.
Then in the '80s came younger brother Ron, even more talented. In addition to record-setting efforts as a Bulldogs running back, he was the state 100-meter dash champion and won the event at Sacramento's Golden West Invitational, defeating a field of the premier high school sprinters invited from across the nation. He went on to play wide receiver for SMU, then the Chicago Bears for six years before a knee injury ended his career.
Brother Tommy, some say, was probably the most talented of all the 10 children born to Marvin and Marie Morris, but he died in an automobile accident during his sophomore year of high school. Mourners at the funeral found it entirely appropriate that the youngster was buried in his Bulldogs football jersey.
And most recently there was Byron "Bam" Morris. After adding his mark to the family legacy, he enrolled at Texas Tech where, following his All-American junior season, he won the Doak Walker Award in 1993 as the nation's top collegiate running back. Skipping his final year of college eligibility, he was selected in the third round of the NFL draft by Pittsburgh. Three years later, as the Cowboys defeated the Steelers 27-17 in Super Bowl XXX, the 6-foot, 255-pound Morris, not Dallas' Emmitt Smith, was the game's leading rusher.
In Cooper, where bragging rights are deemed valued currency, the townspeople applauded his accomplishments and celebrated his success. And in off-seasons Morris hurried back to his roots, to family and the familiarity of small-town living. He often stopped in at the school, walking the halls to talk to wide-eyed youngsters, signing autographs, always smiling the infectious smile that had been his trademark since childhood.
On the southern edge of town, just beyond the city limits marker, the proud Morris family had a large sign erected, advising visitors they were entering the boyhood home of their two pro-football-playing sons.
Then, in the summer of 1996, the football fairy tale turned ugly, and it has steadily worsened.
Bam Morris, a 28-year-old hometown hero, will soon be headed for prison. Recently, in a Kansas City courtroom, he pleaded guilty to attempting to distribute more than 220 pounds of marijuana and conspiring to launder money for drug transactions.
U.S. District Judge Gary Fenner has ordered that Morris remain in custody pending a pre-sentencing investigation.
Meanwhile, Texas authorities have issued an arrest warrant for Morris, charging him with violating terms of probation he received following his first brush with the law in 1996. He was stopped in Rockwall as he drove from Dallas to Cooper, and six pounds of marijuana were found in a gym bag in the trunk of his car. A search of Morris' impounded automobile later turned up an ounce and a half of cocaine. Ultimately, Morris pleaded guilty to the marijuana possession in exchange for probation. The cocaine charges were dropped.
His football career began to crumble. The Steelers, one of the few NFL teams intolerant of any kind of bad-boy behavior, quickly released him. The NFL suspended him for four games of the 1997 season for violation of the league's substance-abuse policy. He received a second chance when the expansion Baltimore Ravens signed him, but two years later he was looking for yet another professional home.
Originally placed on six years' probation, fined $7,000, and ordered to perform 200 hours of community service for the Rockwall marijuana charge, Morris soon found himself back in trouble. Having repeatedly missed scheduled meetings with his probation officer, he was re-arrested and given a 10-year prison sentence. His attorney managed to arrange a plea bargain with the prosecutor and finally Morris was ordered to spend 120 days in jail, perform additional community service, and pay another fine.