Armadillo Down: How Oklahoma State Coach Eric Morris Turned a 2:30 a.m. Sleepless Night Into Pure Cowboy Cinema

In the grand tradition of Oklahoma State football coaches who treat Stillwater like their own personal wildlife preserve (looking at you, Mike Gundy and every raccoon, deer, and rogue turkey that ever crossed paths with him), new head coach Eric Morris just delivered his first true “welcome to Cowboy country” moment. And it involved a gunshot, a text to the neighbors, and one very unlucky armadillo.

Picture the scene: It’s the middle of the night. Most of us are dreaming about whatever mundane nonsense keeps normal humans asleep. Morris, meanwhile, is wide awake at 2:30 a.m., staring at the ceiling, his brain still running red-zone plays and “misfit” chemistry like a human film room that never clocks out. Then he hears it—the unmistakable sound of armored chaos tearing up his yard, flower beds, and whatever dignity his lawn still possessed.

“I’ve had a couple of armadillos problems tearing up my lawn,” Morris told reporters after practice Tuesday, wearing the kind of camouflage hat that screams “I am ready for both Big 12 opponents and nocturnal diggers.” 

“Finally a couple days ago, I just popped up at 2:30 because I couldn’t sleep and was thinking about something, and I thought it was a great opportunity to go outside. Luckily I found him.”

This was, by his own admission, Morris’s first-ever armadillo encounter. The armored tank had been “crushing my yard, my flower beds, was digging everything up.” 

So, in the finest Oklahoma tradition of problem-solving, the coach grabbed his firearm, stepped outside under the Stillwater stars, and settled the score. Final result: Morris 1, Armadillo 0.

The best part? The post-game etiquette. “Had to send a text message to my neighbors. I apologized for the gun shot. I am in the country, so it was legal. But I did get rid of him.”

That’s the line that seals it. Not “I relocated him humanely.” Not “I set a trap.” Just a polite 2:30 a.m. group text that basically reads: “Hey y’all, sorry about the bang—armadillo situation is handled. Go Pokes.”

It’s the most Gundy-coded thing Morris has done since taking the job, and the timing couldn’t be more perfect. While the rest of the country is analyzing depth charts and transfer portal drama, Oklahoma State’s new coach is out here treating his backyard like a late-night scrimmage. Can’t sleep? Might as well go hunt. Yard looking rough? Solution involves ballistics. Neighbors might be startled? Just text an apology and move on.

Morris has already branded his first OSU squad “the Misfits”—a bunch of transfers and new faces with something to prove. Apparently the same philosophy applies to local wildlife: if you’re going to dig up the flower beds and disrupt the coach’s sleep schedule, you’re getting the same treatment as a soft secondary.

So here’s to Eric Morris, already writing the kind of Stillwater folklore that will live forever in press conference lore. Go Pokes. And sleep tight, neighbors.