In his playing days, former offensive lineman Ryan Cantrell wore his dark hair long and flowing, his arms serving as a canvas for tattoos.

He talked briskly and in a sharp, booming voice. In nearly every outward manner, Cantrell protruded football toughness. Plus, he was Kansas’ offensive anchor in the trenches, arguably — but usually agreed upon – the roughest and dirtiest spot on the football field.

So listen then when Cantrell classifies the Kansas football program, from the 5-foot-9-inch running back to the 6-foot-6-inch lineman.

“We’re all the same type of players,” Cantrell said. “We’re all blue-collared, hardworking people who probably are going to be the toughest son of a bitch you’ve come across on the football field.”

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On Nov. 14, 2004, Kansas played Texas — one of the most talented teams in the country — in Lawrence. The Jayhawks used two quarterbacks, Brian Luke and John Nielsen, who handed the ball primarily to Clark Green.

Texas had Vince Young throwing to Limas Sweed and handing off to Cedric Benson. All three now play in the NFL.

Kansas lost 27-23 in the final seconds on a questionable call, launching Mangino into his well-known “B-C-S” tirade. Yet the patchwork Jayhawks clawed and scraped and generally went man-to-man with a team, at least on paper, they had no business competing with.

Therein lies the power of a team willing to body up with the big boys, take the heavy punches and crunching blows and get back up to go at it again.

“Kansas historically has never had the respect of teams it played against in the Big 12,” former running back Jon Cornish said. “Mangino did the most ideal thing he could do by recruiting people that wanted to be the underdog, that wanted to be that guy to go in there, odds against them, and win. That’s where the toughness really comes in handy.”

Maybe the Jayhawks won’t ever be as physically gifted as some of the schools on their schedule. But Mangino and his staff demand a team that will never stutter against more talented teams.

The goal is to craft a group that, regardless of skill sets or recruiting stars, is just plain tough.

“He made sure we knew that he wouldn’t settle for anything else,” former quarterback Bill Whittemore said. “If something was less, he’d take care of it in a tough manner. He didn’t let anybody slip through the cracks and get away with stuff.”

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Mangino’s approach for spreading that desire is less bravado and more self-motivation. After all, a player can’t just be taught toughness. He must want to become so himself.

On the phone, Cornish’s voice peaks when digging into his past, to his former playing days in Lawrence and, specifically, to a drill that typifies Kansas’ philosophy.

Really, it’s nothing more than a game of tug-of-war: two players battling over one balled and taped towel. Yet there’s something more, something that grinds and shapes players’ mentalities.

“You can’t lose that drill,” Cornish said. “If you lose that, you’re not going to necessarily be humiliated, but you’re going to feel bad because you lost. And you lost in front of every single one of your teammates so you won’t be able to live it down for a few days. That’s more than enough motivation for most guys.”

Then there’s the drill called the farmer’s walk. During designated competition days, the Jayhawks divide into relay teams and alternate between carrying base weights in a race format.

Without bars connecting the 70 and 80 pound weights, players learn on the fly the proper technique for handling the unusually shaped weights. And with the emphasis placed on team competition, a pressure factor is added to the drill.

“You don’t ask the kids to be tougher. It’s not that you shout and holler and tell them they have to be tougher and get after it,” Mangino said. “No, you hold them to a high standard. You finish every drill. You finish every play.”

Mangino’s standards for toughness reach beyond the physical realm.

“When you think you don’t have anything else, you’re able to give a little bit more,” Mangino said. “When things are tough and in a tight game, the guy that’s mentally tough is going to stand up and make a play.”

Mangino’s first recruiting class included a list of players that either fit or developed into more than suitable examples of that philosophy.

David Ochoa entered Kansas as a 255-pound center who bulked up to 285 pounds and earned All Big 12 second team honors as a senior. Bob Whitaker played and started at offensive line despite two horrible knees that forced him to hobble between plays.

Nick Reid, Kevin Kane and Banks Floodman, a Terry Allen recruit, became stalwarts at linebacker and are revered as much for their work habits as for their accomplishments on the field.

“There are not three linebackers that I would take over those three guys in the country,” Whittemore said. “Honestly. Outsized, probably not quick enough or heavy enough, but those guys got the job done. That’s what these guys see when they see that work ethic day in and day out.”

Yet it’s Reid who most stands out.

Originally lured to Kansas as a quarterback, Reid switched to linebacker early in his career and became the walking symbol of toughness for the Kansas football program.

In his senior season, the Derby native earned Big 12 Defensive Player of the Year honors over future NFLers Michael Huff and Cedric Griffin.

“He might not have been the biggest guy or the fastest guy but he just worked and worked and worked,” Cornish said. “He was a prime example for the rest of us to who we should aspire to be.”

And so the chain reaction began.

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Cornish walked onto campus in 2002 an introverted thinker with a brash confidence about his athletic ability. Naturally, then, he watched the work and day-to-day grind taking place with a skeptic’s view his first couple of years.

But as he matured, so, too, did his perception of Mangino’s concept, one that sounds easily installed yet is often much more difficult to apply.

“You have guys that come in and they were like me, they don’t really buy into the whole thing,” Cornish said. “They’re like, ‘No, I’m good the way I am.’ But you start to see how hard the guys older than you work and how bad they want it. That really does affect you as a player.”

The process to reaching that point is much like the most basic steps of a waterfall.

First, there must be a source. And without a doubt Kansas’ mentality starts with Mangino, who employs the same approach to coaching as he preaches to his players.

With a program in need of severe repair — and with facilities ranking near the bottom of the Big 12 in 2002 — Mangino relied on a tireless work ethic and relentless persistence to drive the program from its disappointing past.

“I think every team reflects the personality of its coach,” senior safety Darrell Stuckey said. “Coach Mangino is a very blue-collared guy. He’s one of those guys that’s not going to cut any corners, and he’s going to do every little thing he needs to do to get the job done. The last three bowl games we’ve won, we literally won because we out-toughed the other team.”

But to function properly, a source must have an outlet to carry the water — or message — to the next step. Mangino funneled that tough-minded philosophy to his players, who in turn trickled the message down to incoming recruits.

It’s a cycle and pattern that developed a program-wide mindset.

“Having coached at other schools in the conference before I went to Kansas, the label on Kansas was they weren’t very tough,” Mangino said. “If I was going to be the football coach at Kansas — I’m used to being around tough teams — we were going to have to be tougher.”

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Toughness can be cultivated and learned throughout the course of a season or career, but it’s also a trait Mangino and his staff search for while recruiting.

Toughness isn’t measurable. It’s even hard to fully prove. But players past and present adamantly insist it’s there inside every player seeing the field.

“We’re not a team who’s going to have all the five-star or four-star recruits,” Cantrell said. “We’re going to have guys who are willing to put the hours in the weight room, the film room and even in the training room if we need to. We have those guys who are willing to put that time in so they can get on the field and do what they love to do.”

The love and desire to play football is an intangible aspect sought after by the Kansas staff, and it’s something that usually jells with Mangino’s ideas on toughness.

“We try to recruit tough kids. Sometimes we fail in that area, but we like kids that love to play this game,” Mangino said. “I think if you love to play football, the toughness is there.”

Surely to seal the deal you need examples.

What about that cold day in Nebraska last season when Todd Reesing took a crunching hit from a blitzing defender, remained on his feet and found Kerry Meier open for a touchdown?

Or the Orange Bowl in 2008 when Kansas faced a bigger, faster and more nationally respected Virginia Tech team, only to turn around and defeat the Hokies at their own game?

Or against Missouri last year in the snow, when Kansas entered the game with impact players ailing but still managed to scrape out a victory?

If the idea hasn’t completely soaked in by now, how about listening to Ryan Cantrell one more time?

“There isn’t one guy who’s out there actually playing that hasn’t proven himself to be tough,” Cantrell said. “Coach Mangino prides himself on that. We have the toughest players out there, there’s no doubt about that in my mind.”

— — Edited by Amanda Thompson