DALLAS - They jumped offsides. Honest, the Texas Longhorns did. They genuinely fell for one of football's oldest, silliest and least likely to succeed tricks.

In a game that featured seven interceptions, an 81-yard kickoff return and a back rushing for the equivalent of 2-1/2 football fields, the most telling play was one that wasn't a play at all.

Texas was baited into jumping too soon late in the second quarter, allowing Oklahoma to convert a fourth down only as huge as the Cotton Bowl itself.

Some might contend the Longhorns were just stupid.

We'd suggest they were just Stooped.

"I guess they were anxious," Sooners flanker Antwone Savage said. "We were anxious, too. But that isn't a play you really expect to work."

Unless it is called by Bob Stoops, whose next failed decision might be his first, who must screw up at times but never when it seems to matter most.

There was talk of "Sooner magic" after Oklahoma's 35-24 victory Saturday, and generally such discussion seems as substantive as cotton candy. But after witnessing the events of this day, even Bevo, Texas' side-of-beef mascot, was seen muttering to himself.

"I'll take all the Sooner magic I can get," he said, he being Stoops, not Bevo. "Sprinkle a little here. Sprinkle a little there. It adds up nicely. I'm not sure if it's really magic, but whatever it is, I'll take it."

Here was the scene: Texas had just taken a 14-3 lead nearing the end of the first half. Savage's 81-yard kick return made it first-and-10 at the UT 16 with 1:30 left. After three plays and eight yards, the Sooners had fourth-and-2 at the 8. Twenty-two seconds remained.

Kick the field goal, right? Take the obvious, easy points. Sure. But first, Stoops dispatched his offense with the usual instructions to not even snap the ball. Everyone has seen teams try this, of course, from Pop Warner to the Super Bowl. But how many people have seen the stunt actually work?

Selling the fake more by putting quarterback Nate Hybl in shotgun formation and tight end Trent Smith in motion, the Sooners must have been shocked when the Longhorns' line lunged into that purgatory called the neutral zone.

One play later, Hybl hit Smith for a TD, and Oklahoma was starting a surge in which it would score 32 of the game's next 35 points.

By the time Texas seemed to recover, the OU fans were chanting "overrated" at the Longhorns and "Crissy" at UT quarterback Chris Simms and the see-you-in-Tempe signs were bouncing in the stands.

Stoops has been known to concoct plays using a stick, a patch of dirt and his imagination. The Sooners attempted a zany hidden-ball trick with limited success in the first half. He is a little Steve Spurrier, a little Jimmy Johnson and a lot of confidence.

Stoops is the only coach in Oklahoma school history to take his first three teams to bowl games. In case you weren't aware, the Sooners have had some decent coaches over the past century or so. He is now 37-7 overall, and only four college coaches ever have started with better winning percentages.

"We have the greatest coach in football," safety Brandon Everage said. "We know going into games that we have that advantage."

In the post-victory madness, Smith had grabbed a giant OU flag and sprinted to midfield, planting the pole in the Cotton Bowl's 50-yard line. Everage had dismantled the bronze cowboy hat trophy that goes to this game's winner and was wearing it on his head. Stoops had trotted to the stands and was high-fiving face-painted boosters.

He was one of the day's stars, all right, this magic man who pulled the game's best gag. Think about it. Stoops turned the direction of the entire afternoon by sending out his offense and not even giving it a play to run.