AUSTIN — Arch Manning was sprinting, no helmet, all joy, signaling hook ’em to an erupting Darrell K. Royal-Texas Memorial Stadium. He was pinwheeling his right arm like a third-base coach signaling a runner to go home. He was jumping and chest bumping, the happiest person in a sweaty sea of celebratory humanity.
This was his liberation and validation. The way he ran and jumped, it was like a weight had suddenly been thrown off. In that moment, he wasn’t a millionaire pitchman with a fabled last name; he was a 22-year-old college player who had just won the biggest game of his life to date, reveling in the fun of the game.
