AUSTIN – Coaches are always looking for stories to motivate themselves and others.

In Mack Brown's wife, Sally, the Texas coach lives with such a story every day.

In conversations and interviews, Mack mentions her all the time. He sounds like an Academy Award winner on stage. The one who knows he'd better thank the spouse for being supportive, for making sacrifices and putting up with the zany hours so domestic peace reigns at home.

But anyone who knows Sally Brown – or "Ms. Sally," as players call her – knows Mack isn't just trying to say the right thing. This woman changed everything – how he lives, how he recruits, how he coaches – and all for the better.

"Almost every player comes over and gives her a hug when the team arrives two hours before a game," said Texas athletic director DeLoss Dodds. "She is the heart and soul of the family atmosphere that envelops the football program."

Seemingly every recruit talks about family atmosphere being a reason – if not the reason – he chose Texas. Sally Brown is responsible for it. Her husband will tell you that. But Sally believes it exists because she stays away from public speaking engagements, television cameras and prying reporters.

"The only reason players trust me and open up to me is because they know I'm not going to be quoted about things or do a bunch of interviews," she said in politely declining to cooperate with this story. "Keeping that trust is essential. It's why I'm never going to come across as wanting or needing the attention."

Sally is intensely private and doesn't want to be a public figure.

But not telling Sally Brown's story when documenting her husband's nine seasons at Texas would be like not telling the story of Vince Young during last year's national title run. She's at practice almost every day, walking and talking with players. Recruits have her cell phone number. She reaches out to the assistant coaches' wives so they feel involved and not ignored.

In his book, One Heartbeat, Mack wrote of his wife, "There are times when she has insight on a recruit or on a player's problems that changes their lives. She is as close to our players as a staff member could be."

Sally's impact on Mack has been profound ever since they were introduced by Art Chansky, a former sports writer and mutual friend, while Brown was coaching at North Carolina in 1992.

A year later, they slipped away to Dillon, S.C., for a $60, quickie wedding on a Monday afternoon the week of a game against Maryland. Brady Bunch jokes ensued because they each have two kids from a previous marriage. Sally has two sons, and Mack has two daughters.

Mack still regrets not buying a $10 T-shirt that read "I got hitched in Dillon." They celebrated their wedding day by eating at Burger King (Mack's guilty pleasure in life is greasy hamburgers), then hustled home so he could watch film of the Terrapins.

Sally was pregnant with her second son when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in the mid-'80s. The doctor told her she would risk her own life by going to term with the pregnancy. She had the baby and successful cancer treatment. During this time, she and her first husband divorced.

She had long ago given up a career in nursing to become a mother after attending California-Berkeley. She had no way to support her two boys.

What she had after the divorce was a horse farm in Chapel Hill. Developers had always inquired about the property. She knew it was valuable. Rather than sell it, she decided to learn how to develop it herself.

She talked to friends who knew the business, worked tirelessly to secure the financing and, at times, literally helped in the construction of a half dozen high-priced homes on the land.

She barely broke even because the property was lined by a creek. There were strict environmental regulations that limited the number of houses she could build and their proximity to the water.

Chapel Hill is small. People talk. Sally's story – that of a beautiful, determined, yet thoughtful single mother – was getting around town.

In a development that would springboard her new career, the University of North Carolina got crossways with a prominent, elderly couple who had donated hundreds of acres of prime real estate to the school.

The land had come with the stipulation that it not be used until both the husband and wife had died. The school, however, began building on the land after the husband died. The wife was so put off, she took most of the land back, gave it to Sally Brown and told her, "You can pay me back when you start making money."

Sally became one of the most successful developers in Chapel Hill. Having grown up in Northern California, she named her company Marin Development.

"She did everything first-class and was one of Chapel Hill's most respected people," said North Carolina athletic director Dick Baddour. "I think her projects have stood the test of time."

Chansky said Sally's personality was the key to her success.

"Most of the developers she competed against were pushy and self-important," Chansky said. "And there was sweet, shy, soft-spoken Sally, who never said a word unless spoken to.

"Getting easements and building permits and right of ways to develop an entire community, which Sally did over and over again, could be a political nightmare in Chapel Hill. But she has this gentle sales approach and business sense. If she needed to do it with flowers, she did. If she needed to take someone to lunch, she did."

Mack, who was still proving himself at North Carolina when he met Sally (his record was 15-28-1 at the time), was swept off his feet. He had just gone through a divorce, about seven years after Sally went through hers.

"Seriously, when Sally and I first met, I was known around town as Sally's boyfriend," he said. "I hadn't won enough yet to be anything else."

Before he met Sally, Mack was a top recruiter. She made him an off-the-charts recruiter.

Before Mack met Sally, he could be an overly intense coach who would cuss at players during practice. With Sally by his side, Brown began swearing to parents he would treat their sons with the same respect he gave his own children.

"My kids getting older and Sally both made me realize that I wouldn't want someone cussing at my kids," Brown said.

Recruits and their parents appreciate Mack's no-nonsense approach, his record of success, the number of players he has in the NFL and his easy charm.

They simply fall in love with Sally.

Cowboys linebacker Greg Ellis, who played for Brown at North Carolina, was one of them.

"Ms. Sally's just such a good person with so much integrity," Ellis said. "It's hard to explain. She's not a typical coach's wife at all. I think she could care less about football, really. She just cares about you."

Before Chansky asked Sally if she wanted to go on a blind date with Mack, he asked her if she knew anything about Carolina football or even the location of Kenan Stadium (which is right in the middle of town). She said no. He asked if she'd ever been to a football game. Again, the answer was no.

"I didn't think it was going to work," Chansky said. "Sally had an incredible career. It wasn't like she was some wide-eyed girl with no ambition but to follow her husband/coach around. But they just hit it off on that first date and have made a great team ever since."

AP

Sally Brown (left) takes part in a ceremony honoring Cole Pittman and his family in 2001.

Mack and Sally met with Longhorns players the night before his introductory news conference in 1998. At one point, while opening his heart to those gathered in the locker room, Mack realized they were all staring at his wife.

"I don't know if they heard anything I said," Mack joked at the time. "I tried to get them to look at me."

Once in Austin, Sally sold her company. She was already a self-made millionaire many times over.

"I'm glad we don't have to pay her what she's worth," Dodds joked.

Mack told friends privately after taking the Texas job, "If things ever get rough, I'll quit before they fire me. We don't need the money."

Instead of building luxury homes on tree-lined Carolina hills, Sally became chief architect of the family atmosphere at Texas, just as she did over her husband's final six years coaching the Tar Heels.

"Mack stressed family in his program and Sally just enhanced it and embellished it," Baddour said. "She loved having players over to their home and entertaining them. She loved having the coaching staff out to their home. Sally was very, very involved in making people feel welcome."

Players say they confide in Sally about everything – their families, their girlfriends, their successes and failures. Recruits call and tell her about their big games and prom dates.

"Ms. Sally is the team mom," Vince Young said last year. "We all love her. No one wants to disappoint her."

Sally has a suite at Texas games and includes the coaches' wives. Once a year, the wives go on the team charter to an away game. Sally's idea. The coaches' families are also included on bowl trips and given first-class treatment. Sally's idea. She plans activities for the wives throughout the year.

"We encourage our wives to get involved with our players," Mack wrote in One Heartbeat.

Sally has donated her time to countless causes, including aiding abused children through Helping Hand Home; raising money for the Black Cultural Center at the University of North Carolina; and opening the Rise School of Austin. (The school supports children with disabilities.)

She is dumbfounded by the angry, sarcastic postings on Internet message boards. The ones that blasted Mack, his staff and players even as the Longhorns were 10-2 and 11-1 before the 2005 national title. It would eat her alive, Mack has said.

She tries not to let it get to her as much, although she still scans the Internet for rumors about the team that might need to be addressed.

"If there's something really important, Sally will bring it to me," Mack said. "Otherwise, she knows I don't need to be bothered with it."

When Mack and Sally first got to Texas, they had a house on the bank of Lake Austin, where they befriended a neighbor a few doors down named Lance Armstrong.

After five years in the house, boats began pulling up with spectators waving and taking pictures as if Mack and Sally were exotic animals at a zoo.

Sally found a secluded house on Lake Travis, about 40 minutes from campus, hoping to get away from it all.

But she soon realized you never get away. Not when you live in Austin and your husband is the coach at Texas. So she learned you might as well embrace it. After the 2003 season, when there was harsh criticism following a Holiday Bowl loss, Mack and Sally decided to focus on the players instead of trying to please others.

Now, the couple live in a downtown high-rise, a three-minute drive to campus. Texas baseball coach Augie Garrido is a neighbor. They also bought a ranch with horses in the Hill Country to replace the horse farm Sally turned into a neighborhood in Chapel Hill.

When asked to be interviewed, Sally declined but suggested other stories. She suggested a story on Jonna Chizik, the wife of co-defensive coordinator Gene Chizik, and LaShonda Kennedy, the wife of receivers coach Bobby Kennedy, both of whom just finished a mission in Guatemala.

That's Sally Brown in a nutshell – deflecting the spotlight, while focusing on what's important to her: the family.

"What Sally does better than anything else is listen," Chansky said. "She is a deep, deep well. She knows better than anybody, first-hand, there's more to life than a football game."

E-mail chipbrown@dallasnews.com

No. 7 Texas (4-1, 1-0) vs. No. 14 Oklahoma (3-1, 0-0), 2:30 p.m. Saturday, Cotton Bowl (Ch. 8)