2024 MCWS Championship Preview: What's at stake for two legendary programs


OMAHA, Nebraska — Any walk in or around Charles Schwab Field is an instant history lesson on the teams that have celebrated a Men's College World Series title. There are plaques lining the wall separating center field from the outside world, divided by decades, dating back to the first MCWS in 1947. There are banners mounted on the towering walls of the main concourse, listing each champion, five teams at a time. And finally, there's the mural on Mike Fahey Street, one of the most popular pregame selfie spots, with pennants up for every college baseball program that's ever been the sport's last team standing—i.e. stacking dogs.

There are 31 champions in all, from the blue bloods (OK, purple, burnt orange and cardinal blood) of LSU, Texas and USC, to the legendary underdogs and wonder dogs of Coastal Carolina, Holy Cross and Fresno State. Rice, Michigan, Pepperdine, Wichita State, so many schools from so many regions for so many years.

Except for two blatant missing-in-action programs. The two who will compete this weekend for their first and long-denied baseball glory in Omaha.

“It seems strange, doesn't it?” confessed Jim Schlossnagle, coach of the Texas A&M Aggies, a proud program with a Rome-style stadium built for intimidation and an eight-time MCWS participant, with no rings to show for it. Still. “If you look at the coaches, players and the history, especially the recent history of us and them, you would think one of us would have won this somewhere along the way.”

“That's the truth,” agreed Tony Vitello, leader of a Tennessee Volunteers baseball program that came up empty during its six previous visits to Omaha, a figure that seems very insignificant for a club that has produced players like the recent elected member of the Baseball Hall of Fame. Todd Helton, 2012 RA Dickey Cy Young Award winner and two years ago a quartet of All-Americans in the same season. “When you dig into the history and these teams and see the commitment our schools have made to baseball, it's strange that none of us have won a College World Series. But one of us is about to solve that problem.”

The threads that intertwine to connect the Aggies and Vols go far beyond shared frustration over the June tournament. The first time they appeared in the same MCWS was 73 years ago, the second series being held in Omaha, when they were in the same eight-team field but never played in 1951. They were in attendance to see Tennessee defeat Oklahoma in the game for the title. qualification. It was General Robert Neyland…yes, the man whose name is on the Tennessee football stadium and whose statue guards the front gate. But before Neyland led the Vols to four national farm titles, he was a freshman baseball and football player at A&M for coach Charley Moran, who had played football at Tennessee. As Tennessee's athletic director, Neyland worked to make volunteer baseball relevant. He was. Neyland retired in 1952 and the Vols did not return to Omaha for another 44 years, when Helton took them to the semifinals.

The Aggies also suffered a drought in the MCWS, returning in 1964, but not again until 1993, when they came in as the number one national seed, but finished 1-2 and were sent home early. Since 1993, they have had more than 80 players selected in the MLB draft and are in Omaha for the third time in the last seven years.

Unfortunately, there are no trophies.

That was easier to live with in the past, when college baseball was still largely a West Coast sport. But over the past decade and a half, Tennessee and Texas A&M have been forced to watch their conference teams win nine of the last 13 MCWS. Worse yet, that postseason wealth has been spread among six other teams, none of which came from College Station or Knoxville.

“This is a school that people have been very loyal to,” Vitello said of Tennessee, where he has been head coach for seven seasons, all on an upward trajectory, including being ranked No. 1 in the nation for large stretches in the past. . several seasons, only to fall short. “I think regardless of how these guys have done… it's been pretty incredible how positive people are and how loyal people are, being in the SEC, because people are usually as loyal as you get wins.” “.

“It would mean a lot,” Schlossnagle said when asked about the significance of finally taking home the NCAA trophy that was inches away from him during Friday's pre-championship news conference. He came close several times during his 18 seasons at TCU and moved to A&M three years ago, in part to experience the school's huge fan base, known for a singular title. “The Twelfth Man is so special. If I start talking about it too much, I'll start crying. They are a unique and special group of people and it would be great to reward them.”

Vitello also had to fight to keep his throat from choking up during his news conference, and came close to tears when he started talking about Pat Summitt, who led the Lady Vols women's basketball program to eight national titles. Vitello never met Summitt. She died in 2016, two years before he arrived on campus. But she walks by her statue almost every day and likes to walk into Thompson-Boling Arena to look at the signs in the rafters.

“Banners are great, but it's not what everyone talks about,” Vitello said. “It's how she went about her business, what kind of character she instilled in her players. I think that was her championship, despite all the banners. The byproduct was a lot of wins. She was a winner.”

Vitello too. So is Schlossnagle. So are their respective baseball programs and athletic departments. But pain is also a big part of the Tennessee and Texas A&M sports personalities. Summitt's last national title came 16 years ago. Tennessee's last football game was a decade earlier. Its last NCAA team championship was in women's track and field in 2009. College Station just added a women's tennis trophy to the display case a month ago, but in a city built on football tradition, the last national title of Aggies camp was in 1939. Even The Story of the Twelfth Man is about what almost happened but never happened. In 1922, A&M student E. King Gill left the press box and suited up in the middle of the Dixie Classic because the injury-plagued football team was short on players. King never played. The statue of him that stands outside Kyle Field is a monument to loyalty, but it's also a testament to the strain of promise.

For those thousands of fans and alumni who have spent their lives rooting for Tennessee and Texas A&M, that tension has become a big part of their identities, for most of their lives. So imagine what it would feel like to finally be able to let go?

“Everyone comes and joins this program because they want to win a championship. They want to be the best, they want to beat the best, they want to play against the best,” A&M pitcher Ryan Prager said. “The guys who played here before us, you can see the support they still bring. The guys who were in 2022 [semifinalist] team, guys who were on the teams before that. They care. Being able to do it for them, give them a sense of accomplishment.”

That's why, on Friday night, the eve of the title series, the lobbies of the team's two hotels, located side by side within sight of Charles Schwab Field, began to fill with those former Aggies and Vols. Twenty-somethings and grizzlers, utility players and All-Americans, all heading to the Midwest for a tough homecoming, perhaps with the end of Hollywood (no, Omaha) that has eluded these proud programs since the game was first played. Men's College World Series. Almost 80 years ago.

“I hope everyone comes out,” said Tennessee pitcher Kirby Connell, a fifth-year player as famous for his “Vollie Fingers” mustache as for his work in the bullpen. “I hope all the former players are here with all these fans and we can all celebrate together. Finally.”



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