College football thrives on petty energy. It’s the lifeblood of the sport. While some coaches give long-winded speeches or fiery press conferences, Tom Herman—the former head coach of the University of Texas Longhorns—managed to shut down an entire controversy with just four words. Ok. Cool. Hook ’em. You probably remember the screenshot. It was a text message. Simple. Terse. Brutal. It wasn't just a reply; it was a vibe that defined an era of Texas football, for better or worse. To understand why this phrase still gets slapped on T-shirts in Austin and why it still haunts certain corners of the internet, you have to go back to 2018. The Longhorns were trying to claw their way back to national relevance, and Herman was at the center of a recruiting drama that felt more like a soap opera than a sports story.
The text message that started it all
It all started with Zach Smith. If you aren't a die-hard Big Ten or Big 12 fan, the name might be a fuzzy memory, but back then, he was the wide receivers coach at Ohio State under Urban Meyer. Things got messy. Smith was fired following allegations of domestic violence, and a media firestorm erupted. Tom Herman, who had previously worked with Smith at Ohio State, found himself pulled into the gravity well of the scandal.
There were accusations flying around that Herman was the one who tipped off reporters about Smith’s past.
Brett McMurphy, the veteran college football insider, was the one breaking the news. Smith was convinced Herman was the "snitch." In an attempt to confront him, Smith sent a barrage of angry, accusatory texts to Herman. He was venting. He was furious. He was looking for a fight.
Herman didn’t give him one.
Instead of a defensive paragraph or a legalistic denial, Herman sent back a screenshot of his own: "Ok. Cool. Hook ’em."
It was the ultimate "I don't care." It was the digital version of a shrug and a door slam. When that screenshot leaked to the public, it didn't just stay in the world of coaching drama. It became a meme. It became a rallying cry. It became the definitive way to tell someone that their opinion simply didn't matter.
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Why "Ok. Cool. Hook ’em" resonated so hard
In the world of high-stakes recruiting and social media branding, coaches are usually terrified of saying the wrong thing. They have PR teams. They have "media training." They speak in "coach-speak," which is basically a way of using 500 words to say absolutely nothing.
Herman did the opposite.
The brilliance—and the arrogance—of the phrase is in its brevity. "Ok" acknowledges the message was received. "Cool" dismisses the importance of the content. "Hook ’em" reminds the sender exactly who they are dealing with and where the power lies. It was Texas Longhorn exceptionalism summed up in a single line.
Honestly, it’s the kind of thing you wish you had the guts to say to your boss or an annoying ex. It was relatable. It was petty. It was perfect.
But there’s a flip side to that kind of energy. When you act that confident, you have to win. If you say "Ok. Cool. Hook ’em" and then lose to Maryland, the phrase turns into a weapon used against you. And that is exactly what happened over the next few seasons in Austin.
The "Texas is Back" connection
You can't talk about Ok. Cool. Hook ’em without talking about the Sugar Bowl. On January 1, 2019, Texas beat Georgia. It was a statement win. Sam Ehlinger, the Longhorns' quarterback, famously shouted "We're baaaaaack!" into the microphone during the trophy presentation.
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At that moment, the meme was at its peak. The "Ok. Cool. Hook ’em" attitude seemed justified. Texas felt like they had regained their swagger. Herman was the guy who wasn't afraid of the noise. The fans loved it. They put the phrase on hats. They put it on bumper stickers. It represented a Texas team that wasn't going to be bullied by the SEC or anyone else.
However, the culture of a program often reflects the personality of its leader. Herman’s tenure was marked by these high-friction interactions. While the "Ok. Cool. Hook ’em" text was a win in the court of public opinion for a while, it also highlighted a perceived "us against the world" arrogance that eventually wore thin when the wins didn't keep coming.
The fallout and the reality of coaching memes
Coaching in the modern era is about more than just X's and O's. It's about managing your brand.
- Public Perception: Herman was seen as a "mensa" genius, but that label becomes a liability when you're losing games you should win.
- Recruiting: For a while, the "Ok. Cool. Hook ’em" vibe helped on the recruiting trail. It felt modern. It felt edgy.
- The Downside: Rivals loved it. Every time Texas lost, Oklahoma or Texas A&M fans would flood the comments with—you guessed it—"Ok. Cool. Hook ’em."
It’s funny how a phrase intended to dismiss a rival eventually became the soundtrack to a coach’s exit. By the time Herman was let go in early 2021, the phrase had shifted from a sign of strength to a symbol of a missed era.
How the phrase changed college football social media
Before this, most coaching beef happened in the shadows or through carefully worded statements. Herman’s text changed the game. It showed that coaches are just as plugged into the petty digital culture as the fans are.
It paved the way for coaches like Lane Kiffin to become "Twitter Kings." It made it acceptable for a coach to be a bit of a troll. We see it now with Deion Sanders at Colorado or Dan Lanning at Oregon. There is a performance element to coaching now that didn't exist twenty years ago. You aren't just winning games; you're winning "the discourse."
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Ok. Cool. Hook ’em was the first major shot fired in the meme-ification of the Big 12.
What we can learn from the "Hook 'em" saga
If you’re looking for a takeaway, it’s about the power of brevity. In a world where everyone is shouting for attention, the person who says the least often has the most power. But that power is fragile. It’s tied to results.
If you're going to use a phrase like Ok. Cool. Hook ’em, you'd better make sure you can back it up on the field. Texas is now in the SEC, and the Herman era feels like a lifetime ago, but the phrase remains a part of the lexicon. It’s a reminder of a time when the Longhorns were trying to find their identity and found it in a four-word text message.
Actionable insights for fans and creators
To really understand the impact of this moment, look at how you handle your own digital presence.
- Stop over-explaining. Most arguments don't require a paragraph. Herman’s response worked because it gave his opponent nothing to work with. If you find yourself in a digital "war," sometimes the best response is the one that ends the conversation immediately.
- Understand your brand. Texas is a "big" brand. They can get away with arrogance. If a smaller school coach had sent that, it might have vanished. Know your "weight" in a conversation before you drop a mic.
- Memes have shelf lives. What makes you look like a genius in January can make you look like a clown in November. Use peak-moment confidence sparingly.
- Watch the results. Swag is only cool if you're winning. If you aren't hitting your targets, the "I don't care" attitude looks like "I'm not trying."
The legacy of Ok. Cool. Hook ’em is more than just a funny story about a fired coach and a disgraced wide receivers trainer. It is a case study in modern communication. It’s about the intersection of sports, scandal, and the internet. Most importantly, it’s a reminder that in the world of college football, the scoreboard is the only thing that ultimately gives your words any weight.
Next time someone tries to drag you into a drama you didn't ask for, remember Tom Herman. You don't have to win the argument. You just have to acknowledge it, dismiss it, and move on. Ok? Cool.