Phil the Bobcat Wasn’t The Weirdest Sight from Saturday’s OSU Loss

MANHATTAN, Kan. — At Kansas State, Phil the Bobcat, a stuffed, lifeless animal who sits perched on the team’s communication station, is a visual norm.

The taxidermied creature is a thing of superstition and apparent fortune for the Wildcats. He sticks out like a sore thumb from the press box and has the appearance of an uncombed rat from up close, but he serves a purpose. He was a show-stealer for the team during its bowl win over UCLA, and he brought a touch of good luck to Saturday’s win over Oklahoma State, too.

If you’re a Kansas State fan, player or coach, it’s apparently the equivalent of the OSU baseball cowboy hat. Or the infamous Rally Bass. But man, the thing is weird, creepy and bizarre. The idea of a taxidermied bobcat occupying space on a sideline in general is just odd.

And yet Saturday, as Oklahoma State fell to 4-3 on the season and 1-3 in Big 12 play behind a deflating 31-12 loss to Kansas State, it was pretty far down my list of oddities.

The Cowboys stunk it up in just about every way imaginable against the Wildcats. They would’ve stunk it up against Blue Mountain State. There was no life, no fight from a team known for both under Mike Gundy. Instead, after a lifeless quarter turned into a lifeless half, which turned into a lifeless game, OSU showed … well, no life. It was like watching your friend mash down an online opponent in Madden, only to find out later his foe had left the sticks unattended to step out for pizza. (OSU is the … well, you get it.)

Phil the Bobcat showing more life than OSU was merely par for the course in a wacky, weird, forgettable and inexcusable Saturday.

The offense was flat-out inept, especially the passing game — yet Gundy refused to make tweaks via a QB change. The defense couldn’t have stopped Phil the Bobcat on a QB keeper if he’d been armed with a jersey and a helmet — and yet Skylar Thompson predictably rushed for 6.7 yards a pop, finding the same success Brock Purdy did last week. Penalties and bone-headed decisions reared their ugly head once again — and yet Gundy, stoic on the sideline, couldn’t be bothered to show emotion or much displeasure in the game or after it.

The whole thing was bizarre to watch unfold in real-time. It was comical the lack of urgency from OSU’s sideline. The Cowboys needed someone to do step up and do something. The result, as expected: nothing.

Saturday was an exercise in futility. OSU was going nowhere fast from the beginning against the Wildcats, and yet as OSU’s ship sunk as slowly and obviously as the Titanic, there were no life boats cast. Dru Brown or Spencer Sanders didn’t get inserted to potentially ignite an otherwise non-existent offense. Mike Gundy didn’t threaten to chop his mullet at half to light a fire under his team. It was just … boring. Dull. It was watching a team that knows its fate, let fate play out without acting.

This might be what it’s like to watch a team watch what little hope it had completely snuffed by three offensive plays and an 80-year-old in a windbreaker.

Maybe Gundy’s mullet chop could’ve boosted morale (I doubt it), or maybe Dru or Spencer Sanders playing meaningful snaps could have altered the outlook (it’s possible), but whatever the case, something needs to change. Because on a day in which Skylar Thompson looked like Tua Tagovailoa at times, and on a day in which a taxidermied bobcat is a regular sight on a sideline, the weirdest sight Saturday was seeing a no-good Oklahoma State team, in a game it was favored and expected to win, fold its cards without putting up a fight.