Oklahoma's Mosier Practice Facility is a dreadfully drab warehouse with all the modern conveniences of 18th-century London. This is where the Sooner football team gathered in groups the other day, beginning with the first workout session at 7 a.m. and continuing until about 1 p.m., when All-America linebacker Rocky Calmus was among the very last players to leave the oversized cave and step into the four inches of snow that had canceled final exams that day.

In one of those you-had-to-be-there moments, I began to realize that maybe the smart guys in Vegas screwed up when they stuck a double-digit underdog line on Bob Stoops' Sooners for the Orange Bowl. Memo to smart guys: OU players believe. They didn't used to, but that was before Stoops arrived in December 1998 and began the Sooner Magic renaissance.

In so many words, Stoops said OU could win now. He said there would be no excuses and no shortcuts. Then he told his new director of sports enhancement to introduce the fellas to the exciting world of physical fitness. And that's what Jerry Schmidt did in the Sooners' first-ever winter conditioning drills. It happened in this very same Mosier building, though you can't see the ralph stains on the walls anymore. It happened during warmups, which still amuses Schmidt. Players staggered toward one of the walls and deposited breakfast.

"I wasn't one of those guys," says fullback Seth Littrell, "but I wanted to be."

Now the Sooners cruise through it all, including the early-morning series of sprints, agility drills and weightlifting. You see handshakes and backslaps and most of all, you see respect. And no kidding, you see teammates treating each other as brothers. Sappy, but true.

Forget the 12-0 record and the national championship matchup against Florida State -- this cameraderie thing is Stoops' most impressive accomplishment. The Sooners were a team divided in 1998, but now you need a crowbar to separate them from one another.

A boom box sits on a table near the incline benches. The Florida State war chant drones over and over and over again, until you want to rip the tape from the machine and let Calmus piledrive it into the nearby artificial turf. And on top of the boom box is a regulation Seminoles helmet, just in case the Sooners forget who they're playing Jan. 3. "One of our rituals," says offensive lineman Scott Kempenich. "That way we get to hate it."

Florida State might be the defending national champions, but Oklahoma is ranked No. 1 and can match the Seminoles in confidence -- no small feat. OU also has what FSU and other elite programs have had for years: togetherness mixed with accountability. The smart guys in Vegas don't know that, but they will.

The way I figure it, no way are the Sooners 12 1/2-point poochies. How do I know? You had to be there.

Gene Wojciechowski is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at gene.wojciechowski@espnmag.com.