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Two thick coats of snow cover Memorial Stadium like a pie crust, and yet Oklahoma center Bubba Burcham can show you exactly where he sat at Sooner games 15 years ago. That was back when the bootlegger's boy, Barry Switzer, was winning another national championship, and, as corny as it sounds,little boys such as Burcham dreamed of playing at the Sparta of college football. "Some people are raised to go to a certain church, some people areraised to go to a certain school," says Burcham. "I grew up on OU."

So the pride and joy of Mustang, Okla., walked on in 1996 and was so lightlyregarded the equipment manager assigned him the same jerseynumber as another Sooner player. Didn't matter. By 1997 the redshirt freshmanhad earned a handful of snaps. In 1998 Burcham earned honorablemention All-Big 12 honors. He had his dream and his letter jacket, but afterthree wins in 1996, four the next year and five the year after that, Burchamhardly recognized the OU program.

"I wore the uniform, played on that field," says Burcham. "But I didn't feellike I was playing for OU." Nobody did. Laughter filled the team bus afterroad losses. In the cafeteria, 10 players sat at eight tables. Screamingsessions disrupted huddles. It was a fully dysfunctional nightmare.

No one was more surprised at the dynasty'scollapse than fullback Seth Littrell, whose father, Jim, played on the '74and '75 OU national championship teams. As a kid, Littrell watched oldSooners game film in a family den that displayed game balls won by his dad.On occasion his old man would take him into the OU locker room after a game,and an awestruck Littrell would say to himself, "One of these days."

Be careful what you wish for. During Seth's first season (1997), OU lost toarchrival Oklahoma State, and it did so again the following year. AgainstTexas A&M in 1998, the Sooners didn't gain a first down until the thirdquarter. "We were setting records, bad records," says Littrell. "I'mthinking, 'I'm on one of the worst teams in OU history.'"

Of course, all of this was BB -- Before Bob. Before Oklahoma athletic directorJoe Castiglione ended the three-year John Blake Error after the 1998 season,and flew then-Florida defensive coordinator Bob Stoops to the Dallas-FortWorth Airport for a face-to-face with OU president David Boren and severaluniversity trustees. Ten minutes into the interview Boren knew there was noneed to speak to other candidates. Once Stoops was escorted to another room,one of the giddy OU officials asked, "Who's going to give up their seat onthe plane so we can take him back to Norman?"

Oklahoma didn't have a moment to lose. Blake was a fine person, big intoweekly Bible study and well-liked by his players, but the former Soonernoseguard and assistant was in so far over his head he needed a periscope tocatch a glimpse of mediocrity. His 12-22 record came on the heels of HowardSchnellenberger's bizarre 5-5-1 reign in 1995, which followed Gary Gibbs'6-6 record his finalseason in Norman. "We needed an attitude adjustment," says Burcham, "andthat's what we got."

What they got was Stoops, who had been a knock-your-jock-into-Row Z safety atIowa, a worker-bee assistant for Bill Snyder at Kansas State and a headcoach-in-waiting on Steve Spurrier's staff at Florida. He was introduced onthe steps of OU's Evans Hall, but didn't say a peep about a five-year planor ask for patience and prayers. Instead, Stoops said the Sooners neededonly to regroup, not to rebuild. "They thought he was a little crazy atfirst," says Spurrier, who knows the feeling. "He said he had the players towin, and he's done it."

In just two seasons, Oklahoma has gone from the John Blake Country Club to12-0, a No.1 ranking and a national championship appointment with FloridaState in the Orange Bowl. Boren counted on a turnaround, but he figured itwould take at least three, probably four years. Even Stoops' wife, Carol,who makes Tony Robbins look like a doomsayer, is amazed at thebefore-and-after-Bob effect. "I'd love to say I expected this," she says."But who expected this?"

Bob did. Maybe not 12-0, but close -- and fast, too. Blake may not have beenmuch of a head coach, but he did a commendable recruiting job. Problem was,he kept changing coordinators and playbooks and couldn't recite the names ofopposing stars if you paid him, which OU did. "When I first got here I'd runthrough a brick wall for Coach Blake," says free safety J.T. Thatcher, bornin Oklahoma City and raised in Norman. "But then..."

But then Blake slowly lost his team andquickly lost games. When Stoops arrived, morale was lower than JohnBlutarsky's GPA. So he met with the team on Dec. 1 and let his players in onhis plan. "I'm not coming down here to get my own players and then win,"Stoops told the Sooners that day. "I'm not waiting. We can win now. Therewill be no excuses."

This was a symphony to Scott Kempenich's ears. The offensive tackle hasplayed at OU since 1996, when he was a redshirt freshman and the Soonersfinished 3-8, losing by obscene scores like 51-31 to San Diego State, 52-24to Kansas and 73-21 to Nebraska. He played parts of two seasons with astress fracture in his right foot, an injury that would require twosurgeries. He blew out his left knee in a 1998 loss to Colorado, returnedthe following summer, but then had to deal with the stress fracture again.Kempenich had listened to the laughter on the team busduring the 4-8 1997 season and fumed. He knew the Sooners had talent but nosoul. Quitting or transferring was never an option for him ("My mama raisedme not to quit"), but there were times when Kempenich wondered if he'd eversee the good side of .500.

At that first team meeting, Stoops took one look at his players and cringed."I could not believe the condition of our athletes," he says. "I could notbelieve the lack of positive attitude and expectations." So the next day, hesicced a little ball of muscle named Jerry Schmidt on the unsuspectingSooners. Schmidt started his career across OU's battle lines at Nebraska,his alma mater. Most recently he'd been the strength and conditioningdirector at Florida, and he now has the New Age title of OU's director ofsports enhancement. "In the past we had workouts and it was hard," saysKempenich, "but it wasn'tanything like this."

The first conditioning session began at 6 a.m. By 5:40 there were alreadymore than a dozen players lined up at the indoor practice facility. Theywere eager, but they were mulch for Schmidt. Halfway through the warmup -- thewarmup -- players staggered toward the nearest wall to throw up. Schmidt andhis assistants couldn't believe it, nor could OU's maintenance staff. "Thejanitors weren't that happy with us those first few days," says assistantstrength coach Scott Bird. When the players reported for the next day'ssession, dozens of garbage cans lined the vomit wall, courtesy of thosejanitors. Players threw up after lifting weights. They threw up afteragility drills. They threw up after sessions in the nearby sand pit. Theythrew up after sprinting down the field harnessed to weighted sleds. Theythrew up after running the 73 steps at Memorial Stadium.

When the team reported in the late summer of 1999, it was more of the same."He broke us down," says Kempenich admiringly. "There was not a point in thesummer when you didn't want to quit. But he was teaching us we had to counton one another." As the sessions became more demanding, Burcham noticed thatthe selfish malcontents of previous seasons took a pass. "Eventually youdidn't see them around," he says. "They just disappeared."

Stoops and his staff had started to tinker with the 1999 OU roster.Celebrated Texas running back Josh Norman, who was signed by Blake and stillcan't explain why he came to Oklahoma (hedecided while taking a shower on signing day), was switched from I-back toslot receiver. Norman, angry over Blake's dismissal and the surpriseposition change, called home. "Daddy, I don't want to be here," he said."Son," said his old man, "there's a reason that you're there."Norman stayed to find out, but he had his doubts. He was the first to admitthat OU's offense needed a new system -- but why a new running back? "You hadto be skeptical," he says. "I was real critical of everything Coach Stoopswas saying. I think I was a little bit rebellious at first, just like a lotof guys."

The new system was the spread-thread-and-shred passing offense used atKentucky. "It'spretty simple," Stoops says. "We were dead last in scoring offense. You throwon some Kentucky tape, show it to the players, and they see everybody getsthe ball, that you're going up and down the field. They realize it's goingto be a lot of fun." Former UK assistant Mike Leach installed the attack,and it worked so well that OU finished 7-5 and Leach was hired as TexasTech's new head coach. It was the one offense that had befuddled Stoops atFlorida. Now Big 12 defensive coordinators would have to deal with it.

Stoops decided to shake up his defense, too. LB Rocky Calmus, an Oklahomahigh school legend at famed Jenks, had lost only five games since fifthgrade but lost six in his freshman year under Blake. Still, Calmus wastabbed an honorable mentionAll-Big 12 and was the Sooners' most dependable defender. So, naturally,Stoops decided to drop a small nuclear device by the name of TorranceMarshall on Calmus. Marshall, a junior college star who, like Calmus,happened to play in the middle, arrived just in time for a July 1999seven-on-seven game at Memorial Stadium.

"Move on over," Marshall told Calmus.

"No, I don't think so," said Calmus.

Marshall persisted, Calmus resisted, and the two had to be separated. "Hewasn't going to back down, and neither was I," says Calmus.Stoops and his staff put Marshall in the middle, which freed up Calmus atweakside linebacker. Last year, Marshall and Calmus emerged as potentialstars, and this year Calmus was named a first-team All-America and Marshalla third-teamer. "That's Coach Stoops," Calmus says. "The athletes were here.He just exploited their skills."

Same thing happened with Thatcher, who had shared the OU backfield withfellow true freshman Littrell during the 69-7 loss to Nebraska in 1997.Thatcher was later moved to quarterback, then returned to running backbefore Stoops arrived and switched him to wide receiver and finally to freesafety this spring. Guess what? After three years of special teamsanonymity, Thatcher emerged with eight interceptions, 16 pass deflections,three touchdowns, a 15.8-yard punt return average and second-teamAll-America status.

Unlikely stories fill OU's locker room. Consider the offense. The lineincludes a former career convalescent (Kempenich), a onetime walk-on(Burcham) and an ex-defensive lineman (LT Frank Romero). Tailback QuentinGriffin (5'6", 190) is barely tall enough to ride Space Mountain. The slotreceiver, Norman, was "two minutes away" from quitting last season. Thefullback, Littrell, could have used depression therapy as a freshman andsophomore. And we haven't yet mentioned a last-resort juco QB named JoshHeupel. The defense has state landmark Calmus, who moved from inside tooutside -- and loved it -- and Marshall literally getting off the bus and makingan impact. Thatcher played roster pinball and ended up a star safety. Formerwalk-on Roger Steffen starts at strongside linebacker and former jucowalk-on Corey Heinecke earned a starting job at left end. Somebody had topush the right buttons, and that somebody was Stoops.

Mention any of this to him and Stoops will do his best Spurrier aw-shuckswhile praising his assistants and crediting his players. He has already saidhe'll stick his AP Coach of the Year trophy in the football office hallwaybecause, after all, it belongs to his entire staff. And Stoops getspositively mushy when he talks about his seniors and theprogram's turnaround. "Two years ago they had been battered in the media,around the state, around the country," he says. "To see those guys in thisposition, I feel more positive for them than anything about me."

This is how Oklahoma football is supposed to be -- no more home for the holidaysor Shreveport in December. These days, if a player dared laugh after a loss,"they would probably get the crap kicked out of them," says Kempenich. Twoyears ago the Sooners couldn't stand themselves. Now they crowd the weightroom, where a regulation Florida State helmet sits atop a boom box thatblares hour after hour of Florida State's mind-numbing war chant. It's thesound of Bob Stoops' success -- a reminder that nowadays the Sooners' onlyenemy is the other team.

This article appears in the January 8 issue of ESPN The Magazine.