I've been getting back on the horse lately. Just not on this site, Join me at the all-new Sports Trough, covering a lot more than college football, though I rarely participate in coverage of other sports, the guys do a great job on NFL, baseball, and whatever else is in the news.
And finally, they dragged me into some NFL stuff and made me join their Eliminator Pool. But I took advantage of the assignment to poke some fun at them.
Speaking of eliminations, I still find this goofy show hysterical. Posted because it's Friday night and there's only one game on...
I found myself rooting for Alabama over Auburn this past weekend. But I wasn't sure why. Maybe it's because I was still hoping that Boise State would get a shot at the title, and I figured that was the easiest way they could get there. Or because in Pick 'Em I needed a big upset to have to chance to come back in the standings. Or because when I hear that "S-E-C! S-E-C!" nonsense I feel like a cat being petted in the wrong direction - uncomfortably testy. Auburn was one of the last stops on my road trip, and despite my exhaustion it was probably the best Thanksgiving Friday of my life. The fans were as generous with me as anyone, and a jovial day ended with a hearty celebration at Toomer's Corner. My heart should probably always be with Auburn in the Iron Bowl, but I needed my brain to give it the reminder.
I moved to Argentina two and a half years ago, and have felt more distant from college football each season. Not that I haven't been paying attention, but it's just not the same when you can't take in the whole Saturday. Reading box-scores as they come in just isn't the same. I can curse the fact that internet here is too slow to stream all I want, but it doesn't change the situation. The last two weeks, I took an extended break to celebrate Thanksgiving with the family and got to behave like a real fan again. Oh how I have missed taking in the full slate of games every week. That said, it did not go very well for me and my team.
I've been on the side of giving Rich Rodriguez another year, but it was based on limited information. I haven't been able to actually watch many of the games over the past three seasons. I've had to go on box scores, bloggers' analyses, and angry or relief-filled e-mails from friends. In statistics, we'd say that a model built on limited data like this has a lot of error. Over the past two weeks I gathered more info. I watched not just Michigan's games against Wisconsin and Ohio State, but various other teams playing various other games. During the Ohio State/Iowa game last week, it struck me how they limit their mistakes to the bare minimum. They are not a superb team, especially on offense. But it's not like they're a good enough team to truly dominate. Except for those occasions when Pryor goofs, the team never shoots themselves in the foot.
It strikes me that as Michigan fans, we must watch between our fingers, waiting for the next big mistake. On Saturday, otherwise reliable receivers dropped easy and hard passes all day. It was sunny and dry. There was no reason for these gaffes. The best offensive play of the afternoon, the one Michigan's run all season where Denard Robinson jab-steps and then throws deep over the middle was negated because of the stupidest of penalties. The defense started out playing strong, but eventually the mistakes arrived via missed tackles or by players being out of position.
It is clear that Rodriguez is a talented coach when it comes to schemes and running an aggressive offense. Whatever he has done to coach Denard in the offseason and during this year has worked tremendously well. Last year Denard wasn't remotely a quarterback. This year he broke records. And I'm willing to forgive his proclivity to turn the ball over as that's what first-year starters often do. But the team is clearly not prepared to play. At the end of the year, the kinks should already be worked out and the blooper-reel stuff eliminated. What we saw the last two weeks simply cannot happen. Maybe they had a bad couple of weeks, or perhaps the team is tired. I'm still working with limited data here, though the more I gain, the bleaker the picture becomes.
If Michigan can indeed snag Jim Harbaugh now, it's clearly the choice with a higher probability of long-term success. Rodriguez was not dealt the best hand when he arrived at Michigan. The talent wasn't there, and many people were working against him, hard. From the old-schoolers in the athletic department who wanted Les Miles, to the Detroit Free Press' hatchet men, to the litigious WVU Athletic Department, he had a lot of unfair stuff to deal with. I am sure the team will improve next year if he stays. There are few seniors, and the offensive recruits coming in seem to have a lot of potential. And it would be impossible for the defense to be any worse, even if Greg Robinson is miraculously spared the axe. Maybe the continuation of this nadir is not all Rodriguez's fault, but that doesn't really matter anymore. It's like one of those sad country songs where the singer burdens himself with blame, but gives a fair share to the fates. Either way, the dude's just going to be miserable for a while, and there's not much he can do to lift his spirits.
I am now very concerned about the ceiling of the team with Rodriguez. If they can't catch a pass in the most important game of the year, and can't stop getting dumb penalties, and can't be in position, will they ever be an elite team? Because that's the real reason Ohio State has now won seven times in a row. They get the most out of the players they have. This year, I'd say we got the most out of just a handful: Denard and one or two offensive lineman. That, more than anything makes me think it's time to cut bait. It's pretty clear that Jim Harbaugh gets the most out of his talent.
Again, I'm out of the loop. I can't even decide which teams to root for anymore. Not seeing games hurts all of it. I guess I still need to hear what people like Brian and Dave have to say. They've been preaching patience all year. But after they saw what we all saw these last two weeks, I can't imagine they have a lot left. Suddenly, a bowl game is small consolation.
At the very least I am thankful to have endured those games and seen so many others. Reading about how Boise State saved their season with a last second bomb only to blow it on two botched chipshots pales in comparison to taking it in live. At the very least I have come to a conclusion about something. Next year, I'm finding a way to spend my Saturdays with football, even if I have to move. Either that or I'll have to buy a guitar and pick up a drawl so I can lament my various losses in song.
A couple years back, I did a crazy thing. I quit a perfectly good job and drove my ass around the whole country going to football games. This didn’t happen on a whim. It was an irrepressible urge. I wanted to see the whole country, and there was no better way to do it than via college football. But I needed to meet the fans from around the nation. The idea had lodged itself in various states of my consciousness for six years before finally compelling me to action.
I intended the adventure to be focused on the tradition inherent to college football. I wanted to know why it was so much more important to us than for fans of other sports. But after just a few games, I realized that tradition wasn’t as coveted as I thought it was. It got a whole lot of lip service, but fans had short memories, and their worldview was often not aligned with their stated respect for tradition. This surprised and disappointed me. I learned that for most fans, the desire to fully embrace tradition will always be overwhelmed by devotion to the program. This is true even if it requires self-delusion. We have always been at war with Eastasia.
So it was that one of the overarching themes of my trip became the inherent battle between tradition and progress. They are diametrically opposed, especially as it relates to this wonderful sport. The battle kept surfacing, whether it was Bowls versus Playoffs, SEC fans rooting for their bitterest rivals in bowl games, or students tacking a “Go Blue!” onto the end of “The Victors.” (This still feels appallingly wrong to me.) Even my choice to save time by speeding along Interstate 40 instead of leisurely getting my kicks on Route 66 showed that progress often has its place.
But my goodness, there are limits. If the reports are true, it is 80% certain that Michigan and Ohio State will be placed in separate divisions, and probably play in the middle of the season. Doc Saturday has clearly outlined all the reasons this is stupid, so I won’t even get into the rationale. Stupid is the word. Stupid beats out ill-conceived, reckless, or any other depressing word you want to apply. This is a stupid, stupid idea.
These men agree. With each other.
So what’s the big deal? Plenty of important people do stupid things all the time. As I said, tradition in college football is sadly overrated and becoming more so every year. And as much as many fans may dislike this erosion, they accept it because it’s still the best game in the world. But there are bridges too far. If the bloggers are any indication of where fans stand, the followers of Michigan and Ohio State are presenting a united front. For the core fans, there’s no question this stupid decision will sour them. For the casual ones (read: incremental dollars), the only benefit is that rare and surely elusive rematch, a meager benefit that will be more than balanced out by The Game no longer being The Game.
There’s something really big at stake here. The decision has not yet been made official. Every other change we’ve seen, at least you could argue both sides for fans and players alike. The fans have spoken clearly this time. Not all change is good, especially when it’s stupid. But will anybody care what we have to say? Will anyone actually listen? Are they not only poised to make a stupid decision, but ignore those who have tried desperately to set them straight? The Big Ten fashions itself to be the conference of stalwart tradition, keeping the Rose Bowl stashed away in its favorite jewelry box, not to be shared. Yet, what greater tradition is there than The Game? If the fans will not be listened to now, they will never be listened to about anything. This is the most extreme case we will ever see. This is a litmus test for the sport. Does tradition matter in the slightest? If Delaney moves The Game, then it is dead, and we might as well start having fanstasy drafts and Budweiser hot seats and “He Hate Me” on the backs of uniforms.
Seriously, this is the guy in charge. OK, well maybe he just looks like him.
What I finally discovered was that my big road trip was not about blind devotion to all things sacred. It was about what makes us fans in the first place. That’s a much longer conversation (you can read the book if I ever finish it). The gist of it is that we get to go back to college a few Saturdays a year. And we like going back to college because it was one of the greatest times in our lives. We adore The Game, even when it treats us badly, because it has given us the highest of highs and the lowest of lows but rarely anything in between. It is supreme, thrilling victory, or utter devastation. Every year. This result simply cannot happen in October.
Regarding the importance of tradition, I eventually found acceptance and embraced the difference between me and (some of) you. And, much later, Lloyd Carr even convinced me that we should have a playoff. Perhaps I’m not such a nostalgic codger after all. I’ve come around a bit. Really, I have. Go ahead, kids. Play in my yard. Just try not to burn down my fucking garage while you’re at it.
UPDATE: Some useful e-mail addresses here. Send a courteous note or sit on your hands. Don't mail theses people a dickish rant just 'cause I deployed the f-word (HT: M-zone): Dave Brandon (U-M AD): DABran@umich.edu Gene Smith (OSU AD): Smith.5407@osu.edu Mary Sue Coleman (U-M President): PresOff@umich.edu Gordon Gee (OSU President): Gordon.Gee@osu.edu Jim Delany (Big 10 Commissioner): JDelany@bigten.org
I’ve been through this before. Lots of times. In your heart of hearts you feel things that don’t make sense. You approach the situation with your brain of brains. You say, “Man, this looks pretty bad, if we win it will be a miracle.” And if the game were to happen right then, you’d stay in your brain of brains and robotically accept the results.
But time passes. You read an optimistic report from a blogger who lives in his heart of hearts all day long, and he punches a small crack in the façade. Once you pry open the door to optimism, the train has left the station and won’t stop until you reach “We’re gonna do it” land. It happened to me again.
Aside from their red-card aided loss to Serbia, Germany had been the clear top dog in this World Cup. Argentina had only played one decent opponent. Still, with Messi, with Tevez, even with Maradona who had appeared to have learned a thing or two about coaching soccer, many were picking them to win the game. It didn’t take much for them to convince me. I already had punched that crack in the façade myself. In soccer, everyone always has a chance. You never really close that door.
Towards the end of my big road trip, I returned to Ann Arbor for The Game against Ohio State. Michigan fans had been enduring an ungainly year, one that began with losses to Appalachian State and Oregon. Yet, despite it all, the team had a chance for the Rose Bowl if they could just beat Ohio State. The Buckeyes had lost to Illinois; they weren’t an unstoppable force. But Hart and Henne were both playing hurt, and there was no reasonable way to believe that Michigan would come through.
But as the week progressed, I started to believe. More than anything, after driving 14,181 miles I felt like I deserved it. How illogical is that? Of course I was dead wrong. It was one of the most boring football games I’ve ever seen, a 17-3 punt-fest in which Michigan never remotely threatened to win. I deserved nothing, despite my self-convincing.
When you’re winning, a soccer match takes an eternity. When you’re losing, they fly by. Argentina's 4-0 defeat was done in a flash. People here could accept defeat, but 4-0. 4-0!?! It ripped the heart out of the country. When the game ended, the city was dead quiet. Even the birds and the breeze were in hiding.
That’s what sucks about self-delusion. It always comes to an end, but there’s no way to know ahead of time. I really don’t know squat about soccer, and still managed to convince myself that victory would be ours. What is wrong with me? Nothing that's not wrong with everyone who wants his team to win I suppose. SI's Joe Posnanski did the same thing while hoping for a compassionate LeBron.
As night fell, Buenos Aires began to shake off the stink of failure. People left their homes to have a coffee, talking meekly of things other than futbol. I found myself in a taxi with a driver who was not so shy. "That was an embarrassment! Argentina should never have lost that game!" I told him that was 4-0, and Germany has been the best team so far. "No. Argentina is better, and should have won!" I must say I admired the man for the willful optimism even after such a stark result. Maybe self-delusion can be used to obscure reality instead of making it sting. But in the face of such a strong reaction, I had nothing much to say. I was as silent as the birds during the afternoon.
Somewhere in South Carolina, a close friend of mine is digging a hole. He's tearing up his own back yard - a small part of it at least - and he's digging. He's doing this for a dramatic gesture. He will bundle his well-worn Michigan jersey in plastic and place it in that hole. He vows not to collect it until Michigan makes a BCS bowl game.
At Mgoblog, Brian has given his last word (for now) in defense of Rich Rodriguez. Everything he writes is on the money in this complicated situation.
I love Lloyd Carr. The man took over our program at a really rough time and went out and won a national championship. He is a local hero in many ways, a Michigan man, and someone whose character should be admired not simply because of his ardent beliefs, but because in many ways he brings out the best in college football. He was not simply a coach, but viewed himself as a teacher. He believed in the game and believed in his players. Plus, he's the man who convinced me that we do indeed need a playoff. That said...
I think when people talk about the end of the Carr era, it's important to keep one major factor in mind: Mike Hart. He was a three-star recruit from the middle of nowhere New York that put the entire team on his back for four straight years. Sure, there was other talent, but after Braylon Edwards left, this wasn't exactly a stacked team. Outside of 2006, the defense was a mess, but Hart kept Michigan in every game he played. Remember in 2005 when all of Michigan fandom said "We have no chance to beat Michigan State!"? Hart came back healthy for the game and saved the day with 218 yards. We can all list a dozen games where he was the difference for Michigan. Appalachian State was supposed to be included, but, well, that thing about the abysmal defense. The Mike Hart teams won in spite of themselves and largely because he gave us a chance in every game where he was healthy. But there's a reason he never beat Ohio State, and it has little to do with him. The cupboard wasn't totally bare, but someone had been removing items when we weren't looking. Hart just made it seem like it was still relatively stocked.
For years, many people said, "We gotta fire Lloyd Carr!" My response was always the same: "OK, who do you want?" There was never an answer for this from the haters. Those who want Rodriguez axed don't have an answer either. Nearly every big-time program who fires their coach to start a new regime goes through this. The conventional wisdom is that Carr tried to put his assistants in place to take over. He gave them more responsibility in 2007. They failed. An easy transition was impossible. If we'd hired Les Miles, Marty Schottenheimer, or George S Patton, we would have had very similar problems.
Not our coach
The overriding obvious idea here is that this really sucks. As Ray Liotta said in Goodfellas, "This is the bad time."What my friend in South Carolina is doing is really important, but there's one aspect that is the most crucial part of the gesture. He's putting that jersey in plastic (please double-bag it, Roberto). He's not laying Michigan to rest. This is not a burial. This is a time capsule for himself. When he retrieves it some November day, he should buy it a bouquet of roses first (or a sack of doritos or whatever bowl-themed present is most apt). Then he should hug it high and tight like Ennis Del Mar.
I've identified my local futbol team here: Independiente. It's the third most popular team in Argentina, and has one of the richest traditions. The two most popular are Boca and River. Between them, they actually claim over 80% of the fans which is stupid, but Argentines generally like to follow the pack. Every team has nicknames they call themselves (in River's case: Los Millionarios) and names that everyone else calls them (River's: Las Gallinas (the female chickens)). Independiente used to be great, but since I first arrived here, they have been sucky to crappy. This season, they are actually playing well - winning games they shouldn't and playing above their talent. It seemed that Michigan was going the same direction, but perhaps that will have to wait until next year (ojalá!) I bring this up because the opposing team's nicknames for the Independiente fans is Los Amargos. This means, "The Bitter People." Translation - always negative, all the time. If that doesn't fit with the stereotype of a Michigan fan, then I'm Cristina Kirchner. I certainly didn't plan it that way, but maybe as Michigan fans, we're destined to suffer.
Not a Michigan fan - yet
I've been playing ultimate frisbee down here. Our team hasn't lost since March and yesterday we won the second championship in the history of the country. I bring this up because we weren't always such a dominant team. In fact, when we lost those two games in March, one team thrashed us 15-7. Since then we've been rolling. Why? We got mad, and we put in the practice. This experience will season these players, hopefully for the better. As much as this hurts us as fans, it's ten times worse for them. They're very young. Nobody can say they're not trying. They've come a long way from Toledo, even as they are sure to lose these last two games. We thought last season was the bottom. Really, we're looking at it right now, at least in terms of our patience and experience as fans. If Michigan pulls out a miracle in the last two weeks, it is a corner turned. And if not, you can't tell me this team isn't going to be more prepared next season.
So bury the jersey well, my friend. I expect it won't be ready to be dug up until November of 2011. By then it will be properly seasoned and in need of a big hug.
Hey, Argentina, I thought we had an agreement. I was going to move to a country where they care about soccer, and you were going to play in the 2010 World Cup - and play well. This is not only embarrassing, I'm feeling totally ripped off. For those uninitiated, Argentina has never missed a world cup, but after losing to Brazil and Paraguay in succession this week, they have currently positioned themselves out of the tournament. There are two games remaining, but Argentina does not control its own destiny. They have to win them both and hope that Ecuador loses one. They boast one of the two best players on the planet and a coach who was one of the greatest of all time. But this is not a team. Every player seems reluctant to give up the ball. Maybe they're all so good they think they can win games themselves. but this isn't working. It's easy for people to blame Diego Maradona, and it's clear that he's not helping the team win. But these problems existed before he arrived.
A man at the end of his tenure...?
As I said, I feel cheated. There's still an outside chance that FIFA will make some kind of exception or that Argentina can make its way in via the open slot. But at this point, nobody in this country has any confidence that such a thing will happen. They're beyond crestfallen. They're disgusted.
...this guy thinks so.
Michigan's another story. We had our own agreement. There would be ups and downs in equal measure, but the team would always be at least pretty good and I would definitely have a game to watch in January. Last year, well, we all know what happened. Then again, I'm the one who moved away. For me to whine any more about 2008 is like complaining that the girl you dumped is dating some cheesy schmo. But if we're talking about disgusted fans, it's hard not to think about what happened last year.
But then this happened:
And then this:
And suddenly... we got us a football team again. I'm tempted to check my expectations, thinking about the miracle against Wisconsin last year. It's so hard to tell early in the season what is real and what is not. That result turned out to be decidedly not real. Those who said Michigan was lucky to win were correct. And Wisconsin soon proved to be a team somewhere between mediocre and lousy.
But last week, the excitement returned. As a Michigan fan, you expect such moments. You've been promised them over the years. You get to thinking you deserve them, and maybe you do. Relief quickly turned to joy and anticipation for the next game.
Part of the deal is that Michigan never rolls over against Notre Dame. I don't think the Irish have ever blown us out, at least not in the last fifteen years. The Notre Dame fans I talk to think that they're going to cruise through this game, but that's par for the course in South Bend. Overconfidence goes with the territory. That said, they looked pretty impressive against Nevada.
I've lost all hope for Argentina. Our deal is broken. But then again, if Michigan wins tomorrow, it's clear that the fan contract is wholly renewed. There's still time for Argentina to get their act together, though I'm not ready to enter any pact with Maradona still in charge. Either way, he's likely gone. I just hope that Michigan sends Charlie Weis to join him in early retirement. VAMOS AZUL!
ESPN has put together a "prestige ranking" of all the I-AA college football programs. "ESPN's Prestige Rankings are a numerical method of ranking the best FBS college football programs since the 1936 season." Obviously, this is more of an exercise that is just for fun and not to be taken too seriously. But at times, I like to take frivolous things more seriously. It's the nerdy statistician in me. So let's take a look at what they did and where they may have erred.
Their system: National Title: 25 points Major bowl berth: 10 Major bowl win: 10 Conference Championship: 10 AP Top 5 Finish: 10 AP 6-10 Finish: 6 AP 11-25 Finish: 4 Heisman Winner: 8 Bowl Appearance: 3 Bowl Win: 3 10-win Season: 2 Week as AP #1: 2 Win over AP #1: 1 Each All-American: 1 First Round NFL Pick (since 1970): 1 Losing season: -2 TV Ban year: -1 Bowl Ban year: -2 Probation year: -1 Financial-aid Penalty year: -1 Recruiting Penalties year: -1 Each penalty of "show cause action:" -2
What they definitely got right:
25 points for a National Title is dead on.
They handled the conference championship perfectly, and have the right amount of points on it (see their page for details or just trust me).
8 points for a Heisman trophy is probably right. Perhaps it could go to 10, but it is a major aspect of the sport, even if you disagree with it.
The AP finish rankings are pretty much perfect.
When it comes to one point for each All-American, you could debate that this isn't important and that team success should supersede everything. But everywhere I went, the great players were integral to the thoughts and feelings that everyone expressed to me. At LSU, I heard no less than 40 renditions of Billy Cannon's punt return vs. Ole Miss. Even the youngest Dawgs wanted to discuss Herschel Walker's amazing freshman season. Tommie Frazier could run for governor of Nebraska one day and win in a landslide. When talking about prestige, certainly the great players who made the great plays matter. Do offensive linemen really belong in this category? Maybe not, but to keep the methodology consistent, you have to include them.
What they got wrong:
Including points for a 10-win season is very problematic. It inherently means less than it used to, thanks to the additional games on the schedule and the fact that those additional games are almost exclusively facing the weakest competition available. I don't think that beating Georgia Southern really improved Georgia's prestige any, but it did get them to 10 wins this season. Furthermore, it shouldn't be included because it is redundant with all the other measures. In statistics, it's akin to what we'd call an overspecified model.
Including each week ranked as the AP#1 and giving it two points, yet counting a victory over the AP#1 with only one point seems totally backwards to me. Alabama held their #1 ranking the week they beat Mississippi State. Did that really add to the program's prestige in any way? The sport of College Football is inherently about the big moments. And there is no bigger moment in the sport than taking down the #1 team in the country. This should be worth 10 points on its own. Just ask Texas Tech fans. Crabtree's touchdown against #1 Texas trumps any prestigious moment in the history of the program and will until they win the conference (and even then, there will be some who argue that this was bigger).
Strength of Schedule is basically absent outside of the one point for taking down the AP #1. It's a part of the game (well, it used to be anyway). I realize it would be hard to include this, but the "big games" are important. Perhaps including nationally televised broadcasts would have been good (though quite unfairly skewed as well). Or at least a point for every win over an AP ranked team.
First round NFL Pick doesn't belong here. Does Ryan Leaf's NFL experience add to the prestige of Washington State? He was chosen 3rd overall. Also, since it only goes back to 1970, it will skew the data to more recent success. ESPN still has trouble understanding that the two sports are not the same. Also it's relatively redundant with the All Americans.
What's missing?
Part of a program's prestige has always been wrapped up in its all-time great coaches. Can you think of Ohio State without Woody Hayes? Or Alabama without Bear Bryant? It would not have been hard to include points for any coach that was with a school for at least ten years and had at least a .700 winning percentage. For Penn State, give Paterno credit for each decade of tenure.
Because their system goes season by season, there is nothing for all-time records. For most fans, this certainly plays into the argument for the prestige of their school. It would not have been hard to include a certain number of points for every 100 wins all time. Yes, there would be some redundancy, so perhaps this is not needed.
Nothing for attendance? Shouldn't Miami should be penalized for their lousy fan base? Fans are a part of the game, too, and certainly affect the prestige of a program.
1936? They actually address this issue, saying:
The AP poll was introduced that season, making it the first time the longest-standing news organization in the United States began ranking teams and crowning a national champion. Starting in 1937, the NCAA began recognizing "major college programs" (now known as the FBS). To accrue points, a program had to be recognized as one of these major programs by the NCAA.
This is a curious decision to me. When we are talking about "prestige", that doesn't precisely equate with "history", but they're certainly related. To begin in 1936 is to begin after the death of Knute Rockne. In these rankings, we have no Four Horsemen, no Red Grange, none of the "point a minute" Fielding Yost teams, and none of the great Army teams from that era. However, all these seasons matter to many fans today, and are talked about specifically in terms of prestige. Go to South Bend sometime and see if nobody quotes Grantland Rice to you. I promise you it's not possible.
The omission of all early seasons will knock down Michigan and Notre Dame at the least. Perhaps this is by design? As I learned on the road last season, Notre Dame is universally resented around the nation. Michigan is coming off a down year. They have two of the most active internet fan bases and will surely be irate about a lower ranking, causing them to talk about this endeavor that much more. Uhh... kinda like I'm doing right now. It seems like their rationale here doesn't really meet with the overall goal of the project, so I find myself skeptical about the decision. I mean, shouldn't Michigan beating Stanford 45-0 in the very first bowl game add to its prestige a bit? We'll see how things net out as they reveal 1-10 over the next two days. So far, #s 11-119 feel pretty accurate.
Overall, these rankings make a lot more sense in the pre-BCS, pre-horrendous scheduling era. If anything, they point out how much of the tradition has eroded in the last ten years. If I had to bet, my money would be on Nebraska or Oklahoma to take the title. Those "bonus" scholarship players and years of beating up on the other 6 teams in their conference are going to pile up the points.
Recently, Life Magazine released all of their photos online via Google. It's a remarkably large archive, and of course the first thing I did was search for University of Michigan Football. That didn't exactly provide a motherlode of shots. But when I dropped the word football, all kinds of interesting aspects of life in Ann Arbor were revealed. Student nurses supervising while sick children play with live animals. Young dudes gathering to strum guitars in a dorm stairwell. Young couples openly defying the town's "kissing ban". And of course, excited students cheering for some reason:
Dude in the glasses seems less enthused, but his hands are gigantic!
It's neat to see all these things because even though they're from over fifty years ago, they remind you what college is all about. The times were different, and therefore so were the standards. But the goals were the same. Maturing to adulthood in such a place is a luxury, one that often takes a long time to appreciate. It's a big part of why we watch college football in the first place - to remind ourselves of those salad days.
I came back from Argentina this weekend, in large part to return to my college town, reunite with old friends, and cheer on the team one last time this season. Perhaps foolishly, and perhaps because I haven't seen but four of the games, I thought that we had a chance to compete in this one. That we had played better on the road is where I hung my faith. Catching a glimpse at the still-in-progress Michigan Stadium gave me pause. "How can a team play in front of girders and expect to succeed? No wonder they stink here." From nearly the beginning of this game, however, what I saw appalled me. Like many other bloggers, I have understood the need for patience this season. But in the last game of the year, against our rival, it was a pathetic display. We all know that there is a limit to the team's talent. But they looked disorganized and passionless to me.
A tradition for us at this reunion is to visit the old college homestead, drop off some fresh beer for whoever happens to reside there now, and briefly reminisce about who passed out where. For the first time, we were not allowed inside. They wouldn’t even accept the free beer. Maybe that’s OK. When I was in college, we never lost 42-7 to Ohio State. Actually, we beat them three out of four years. This rejection was perhaps indicative of how the mood has soured. Stewart Mandel claims that Michigan’s players didn’t “buy in” to Rodriguez’s system and his efforts this year have resulted in nothing but failure. Meanwhile, Brian defends the plan, and Dave stares off into the future with calm acceptance. I am afraid to say that after this game, I am inclined to agree with Stewart. My long-term hopes have soured a bit. I cannot blame a loss like this on talent disparity alone. Something is wrong.
When out at a bar in the after-aftermath, I talked to a girl who claimed to be friends with members of the team. She commented that when the team stays in their hotel for home games, they have bed-check at 11pm. Then some of the players invite their friends over to party. This woman seemed a credible source, though who knows if she has any idea what she's talking about. Consider this hearsay and rumormongering at this point. Then again, what kind of team plays so horribly at home? Perhaps the girders have nothing to do with it. If this is true, it is obviously unacceptable behavior. That’s all I’ll say about a rumor impossible for me to verify.
I used to hold up my four years of college as the unluckiest in modern Michigan fan history. After going undefeated the year before, we lost four games every season I was a student. We didn't beat Northwestern once. And the year after, the team won a National Championship. But the pain felt by current seniors has clearly trumped anything I endured. Right now, today, Michigan isn't really Michigan. That's a very sad thing.
But hey, they can't take the past away from us. We'll always have Tom Harmon and Charles Woodson and that time we stole the chairs from Burger King and used them in the kitchen all year. This season's over, and frankly I don't want to think about it ever again. The past may only be so much use, but I'll take it because right now, it's all we have.
I'm dreading this posting. A lot has changed in just a few weeks. I'm afraid of what I will convince myself. I'm still having trouble getting over the Toledo loss. While most of the Michigan blogosphere has rightly been defensive of the team, given the bare cupboard and new system, I don't know what to believe. Losing to "little brother" did little to help matters.
When people, usually the most fair-weather of Michigan fans, would complain over the years that "Lloyd Carr needs to go," I would always respond with the same question: "Who do you want to hire, then?" None of these folks ever gave me a halfway decent answer to that question. One said "Marty Schottenheimer." Part of the problem was that they never appreciated Carr, which to me, meant they never appreciated Michigan. We may not have had the flashiness of the mid-90s Florida Gators, but every year, we had the chance for greatness and at worst found ourselves in the Alamo Bowl. Even when Michigan was "terrible," Michigan was always good. And I think it's especially clear now how many people took that for granted.
For the last ten years, friends and I have participated in a weekly college pick 'em contest. Put simply, you pick the winning team for each game among the AP Top 25. In ten years, I have never once picked against Michigan, no matter how grim a game may have looked. There was no point in playing the game if I couldn't pick my team. But Penn State was an entirely different scenario. The spread was 23.5, and I was certain it was low. While I didn't hesitate to pick Michigan, cross my fingers, and hope for the best, others changed their approach. That they ended up picking correctly did nothing to assuage the outrage and incredulity heaped upon their heads by those who kept the faith. But now that the dust settled, and Michigan has lost to our "little brother," these acts of "treason" stand significantly. This isn't just about razzing our buddies.
I go back to those whiners that demanded a coaching overhaul. I wonder what they have to say this year. My guess is that they're not watching games, and certainly not reading this blog. They've moved on to Halloween costumes or winter vacations or something else to complain about. But the rest of us are still here. And we're trying to deal. Dave is numb. Brian, defeated by ennui. Hoover Street wants the season to be over. Wolverine Liberation Army sighs and then dutifully trudges onward. And Vijay is resorting to picking winners of all the other games. The bloggers are not dead inside, but in a sense, they are creating shelter for hibernation. Me, I just feel more disconnected every week. If I could get the slingbox to work, maybe I could share in the pain better. But reading boxscores of these games is like living through the last scenes of Chinatown every week. I'm helpless and frustrated. People here keep telling me to forget about it, that I'm living in one of the most exciting cities on the planet with summer just around the next corner. And maybe they're right.
Jake can't forget, and neither can I!
But I can't help noting that the life of a Michigan fan has changed dramatically this season. And honestly, it's OK for people to view it differently. My friends who have "turned their back" on the team have every right to do so. But I can't. I didn't go to Michigan for the football team. I went because it was the best education I could get and the right environment for me. My first steps into Michigan Stadium were on a gorgeous August day to watch the team trounce Washington State. I arrived and left by myself, not knowing anyone else who had tickets yet. That was really my first steps into this game, and even though that contest was hardly significant, I know now that it stirred something in me that has only become stronger every year until it culminated in a 22,000 mile road trip. Michigan football isn't that girlfriend I can't quite get over. It's more like a part of my family - suddenly in the role of the unreliable uncle who you have to forgive all the time.
I'm going to stand by this team, even if some of my buddies can't or won't. In the aftermath of my stunned, "woe is we" posting after the Toledo loss, some commenters reminded me that when we do bounce back, and we surely will, it will be all the better for this suffering. I don't doubt that. Though I have some great friends here in this new country of mine, none of them is a Michigan fan. Actually, none of them is a college football fans at all.
The past can't be taken away. We won a National Championship when I was 22 years old. We've been good ever since I set foot on campus. Maybe a little suffering isn't so bad. And hey, AARP Magazine named Ann Arbor the best city in America for retirees. (#1 in the nation, baby!) I just hope I don't have to wait until I'm that old for the joyful times to resume. But even if I do, I'll always consider myself a Michigan Man. I don't know how else to live at this point. Now let's get Uncle Borracho to rehab, quick.
I just walked out to my balcony. It's cloudy here in Buenos Aires. A dark day. A single bird told me "Poo tee weet." I came back inside.
What on earth…? No, I didn't watch that debacle. We don't get the Big Ten Network here. With minutes left in regulation, I sped through the play-by-play online. Believe me, I think that was enough. Still, we remained on the precipice of avoiding the worst loss in Michigan history. Then that little, brown football icon flipped to Toledo. Then it was game over. The jury reached its verdict. Your football team is terrible.
As much as I was disgusted with people booing the team this season, and as ugly as things have been at times, this is a new low. A loss to Utah was forgiven because it was the first game with new personnel. Notre Dame was bothersome, particularly since the team had every chance to climb back into the game, but fumbled it away. Illinois was explained away with the assumption that the Illini were just that good (incidentally, the gophers may have something to say about that). But this? I can’t possibly express the feelings. I’m not even angry. Just beaten. I was an out-of-stater. I didn’t arrive at Michigan expecting to get caught up in football. But after my second game, a tight loss to Notre Dame, it was a part of me. Now. Now? Again, I'm a beaten fan. And I couldn’t even see the game.
Has any college football fan base been through more torture over the past four seasons? Nebraska? Tennessee? I don't think there's a comparison. Let’s break it down.
2005: the team blunders its way to its worst season since 1984. Fans are tortured by the following: Losses gift-wrapped by Chad Henne to Notre Dame and Wisconsin, losing the Brown Jug to Minnesota by choking at the end of the game in mind-numbing fashion. Tyler Ecker staying in bounds against Ohio State. Tyler Ecker running out of bounds in the Alamo Bowl after being shivved by Sun Belt referees.
2006: the team dominates all opponents in the regular season leading up to the most anticipated Ohio State game in history. The modern patriarch of the program dies the day before the game. Michigan loses a wild affair in heartbreaking fashion, then goes on to the Rose Bowl where USC pounds them.
2007: Appalachian State, Oregon and the Statue of Liberty, Teasing us by winning the rest of the games until Chad Henne’s shoulder and Mike Hart’s ankle, and Ryan Mallett’s ham-hands turn on us. A fleeting, joyous goodbye for Lloyd Carr in the Capitalism Bowl.
2008: Please don’t make me do it.
What have we done to deserve this?
Last Thursday was Yom Kippur, the Jewish day of atonement. I can only fathom that we as a fan base have not done our due diligence in recent years and are therefore falling victim to a vengeful Old Testament God. If that's the case, which number plague was this game, and how much worse is it going to get? Let my people go.
There will be no bowl games this year. There may not be any more victories at all. Somewhere in South Carolina, a very close friend may be considering taking up smoking again. It’s not his fault. Here in Buenos Aires, is it time to switch to soccer? The bird was right. Because what else can you say at a time like this?
Last year, everyone I met expressed equal parts jealousy and excitement about my road trip. Nearly every day was a joy, meeting great people and talking about the game I love. But of course, there were many moments where I quickly realized I was dealing with loudmouthed imbeciles. That was funny for a month or so, but halfway through the season, the loudest spewers of nonsense started to get to me. Nowhere was this a bigger problem than at the Florida/Georgia game in Jacksonville. I actually got angry, particularly during the game. It came from both sides of the red and blue divide. I went and found some of my favorite Gator and Bulldog fans afterwards to remind me why I was on the road in the first place.
Saturday, I had no plans, so it was an easy call to hit up El Alamo again to see what we were made of against a good team. I wasn't optimistic at all about this game, and was roundly chastised by Brian for feeling that way. Maybe that got to me a bit, but for some reason I started to think that we had the goods to take Illinois out. Joe the Bartender is an Illinois grad, so I was stunned to find that the TVs were already claimed by Notre Dame/Stanford and Alabama/Kentucky. Unknowingly working against my own self-interest, I had directed the Notre Dame fans to the bar in the first place (via the internet), so I decided to chat them up and see if we could split time. While seeming a nice enough fellow, the Domer in charge was so old school, he thought Notre Dame was still good. Lauding all their wonderful recruits, he compared Michael Floyd to Randy Moss and averred that Notre Dame will beat Michigan in their next five meetings. He was so intent on Notre Dame, that he was reluctant to share the TV even during the halftime show. Little respect was given for the fact that without my help, he would never have found the only bar in BA showing football in the first place.
To my right were two older men relatively uninterested in football, choosing instead to banter about the US presidential race. Misinformation abounded. When they forcibly tried to explain to the waitress (adorable girl, by the way) that Obama wants to raise everyone's taxes and how that's going to kill the economy, I nearly butted in. But thinking back to those Cocktail Party frustrations, I let the argument go. Besides, by then the game was on, and Michigan was up 14-3, and a slew of Michigan fans in BA on vacation had just come in.
A day that began with minor irritation ended with frustration and further disbelief at Michigan's inability to hold on to the football. Mama said there'd be games like this, right? At least this year. And the all bonus mistakes don't help the cause any. I have to wonder if all the fumbles are because they're still spending so much time thinking instead of just playing. When we lost another on a kickoff, I and the other Wolverines had had enough. We let them put on baseball. Joe shouted out an "I-L-L", but nobody returned his call. He didn't seem to mind. Like last year, even though I can't get enough of this sport, there are days when the cards don't fall right. At least I could hit the nightlife in Buenos Aires. Juice Williams can't take that away from me.
Maybe I'll go back again next week. I know the Michigan/Toledo game won't be on, but perhaps that will be for the best. It's a must-win to be sure, and I don't know what I'll do if we lose. Maybe slug the nearest available loudmouth. College football is the wonderfullest game around, but it sure can bring you down sometimes.
As you probably know, Michigan holds the current record for longest consecutive bowl appearances. After owning it for years, Nebraska missed a bowl during the transition to Bill Callahan. Don't they feel silly now? Given the current "requirements" to participate in a bowl game, once this record is relinquished, it will never be regained. I mean ever. Michigan fans love to tout the programs many historic accomplishments, but unlike "Most wins of all time," this one is precarious. Perhaps even more important than the streak itself is the fact that qualifying for a bowl game means an extra six weeks of practice. This would obviously be a huge boon for next season given the new system. Plus, recruiting, donations for facilities and plenty of warm fuzzies.
To guarantee a bowl slot, Michigan must get to 7-5. At 6-6, there would remain a chance, but we would probably need some help. First, let's break down the lay of the land.
The Big Ten has seven bowl tie-ins: Rose, Capital Citrus, Hall of Outback, Alamo, Champs, Insight, and Motor City. A Big Ten team with a 6-6 record can not be selected over a team with a better record, even if the bowl in question is in Detroit and the team in question played Northern Illinois, Bowling Green, Montana State, and Florida Atlantic in their non-conference schedule. 6-6 only gets Michigan in if the Big Ten has remaining slots. Bumping up to eight bids for the conference via the BCS could be huge. With the current +1 format that means there are three at-large bids, plus the two slots for the BCS title game. A second bid for the Big Ten would be very helpful. Unfortunately, it does not look very likely. With Michigan beating Wisconsin, and with Wisconsin, Ohio State, and Penn State all playing each other, the odds of two teams with only one loss are not high. Furthermore, the mid-majors are currently on a tear with three teams currently in the top 17. They will grab at least one of the at-large bids, possibly two.
Now, a 7-5 Michigan team will surely be offered a slot, even if we are 11th in the conference. Sorry, Northwestern, that's just how it is. The key question is, if Michigan ends up 6-6, will that be good enough for top seven, record-wise? Where things stand today:
Team
Overall Record
Penn State
5 - 0
Northwestern
5 - 0
Michigan State
4 - 1
Ohio State
4 - 1
Minnesota
4 - 1
Wisconsin
3 - 1
Iowa
3 - 2
Michigan
2 -2
Purdue
2 -2
Indiana
2 -2
Illinois
2 -2
The top four teams and Wisconsin are sure to be going bowling and will surely be better than 6-6. That leaves two open bowl bids. Guessing their final record based on what the teams have remaining:
Team
Final Record
Minnesota*
6 - 6
Iowa
5 - 7
Purdue
5 - 7
Indiana
3 - 9
Illinois
7 - 5
*It is impossible to tell how good Minnesota is at this point, so I assumed that they are moderately sucky.
Beacuse these are mere guesses, you see that for those final two spots, it's going to be very tight. Anyone except Indiana could conceivably reach 7-5 this season. There's no clear prediction, but we do know that getting to 7-5 will guarantee Michigan a berth, regardless of what happens.
So what's Michigan going to do then? On one hand, I'm going to get a bit mathy with this, and on the other, I'm going with my gut. But I had math flakes for breakfast, so maybe my guts can crunch these numbers. The schedule:
Game
Chance of Victory
Expected Record
Illinois
35%
2.35 - 2.65
Toledo
90%
3.25 - 2.75
at Penn State
15%
3.4 - 3.6
Michigan State
30%
3.7 - 4.3
at Purdue
50%
4.2 - 4.8
at Minnesota
65%
4.85 - 5.15
Northwestern
40%
5.25 - 5.75
at Ohio State
25%
5.5 - 6.5
Perhaps I'm being a bit pessimistic here; let me know what you think of the percentages. If these guesses are correct, the final prediction comes down to whether you round up wins or losses. The Wisconsin win changed everything. If the team were sitting at 1-3 right now, change that final prediction to 4.5-7.5 and start praying really hard. The bottom line is, every game counts from here on out. A bowl game is within reach, but not without at least one more upset. This week would be a great time to start. I recommend beginning by fielding the kickoff.
More than any time I can recall, Michigan fans came into this season in a forgiving mood. We knew how difficult it would be. It is college football. In the beginning of any season, hope is always available. But we're no longer at the beginning. And the only hope remaining was that the team could improve as they go. I almost didn't make it to the bar, knowing we had little chance of winning and that the Slingbox signal, so far from pristine, would only add to any frustration felt during a defeat. Of course, once Saturday rolled around, I couldn't resist. I've never been one to accept negative fate in advance.
El Alamo is pretty much the only bar in Buenos Aires showing college football. Consequently, there are people from all over the US. We had fans of Auburn, Tennessee, Florida State, Texas, Notre Dame, and a Panamanian who doubled as a devoted and vocal Sooner. And that was just for the early games. Unfortunately, this meant that we had to take an egalitarian approach to the changing of channels. When you're watching via the internet, you can't split that signal between TVs. We missed large chunks of the game, but perhaps that was for the best. At the end of that first half, I had serious contemplations of delving more deeply into my alcohol and giving up my lobbying efforts for more time on our game. Brock, the Wisconsin fan sitting next to me, felt the opposite, calmly enjoying the score updates that seemed to come every couple of minutes.
But we bounced back just in time to see Koger's touchdown. And there was that hope again. Further channel hopping added to the tension before we finally got back, once again just in time for a Michigan score. Brandon Minor's touchdown run got the whole bar excited. Well, nearly everyone. We hung on through Thompson's interception return after which there was much rejoicing. High fives all around! OK, not quite. Poor Brock looked more like this: With time winding down and the Auburn/Tennessee match finally over, I tracked down the bartender demanding a swift return to the activities Ann Arbor for Wisconsin's last, tension-laden drive. Then it was over. I and the other Michigan grad in the bar belted out an unruly and off-key rendition of The Victors. Sometimes you win.
No matter how it went down, whether you want to attribute the outcome to pluckiness or luck or karma, the impact of this win will last. It's a confidence boost, to be sure, but beyond that, it proves that Michigan is still Michigan. The fans that didn't leave at halftime were rewarded, but knew not to rush the field. This isn't Rutgers. Regardless of a new regime and freshmen running the offense, we know what we are. And the team proved it in the second half. The hope's no longer blind. The future looks brighter today.
I remember I once lauded the Michigan Notre Dame rivalry as one of the nation's greatest because no matter how good the two teams were, the game was always a close one. Games that should have been blowouts were competitive, if not nailbiters. Then 2003 happened. #5 Michigan walloped the #15 Irish squad, 38-0. Ever since, the close games have been full of mistakes and the rest have been embarrassments for one team or the other, deserving of all the yakety-sax derisionheapedupon them. Michigan's seven fumbles and two interceptions are all you need to know to determine which category this game belonged to. Though somehow, Notre Dame let the Wolverines hang around for nearly the entire contest.
Back to the game at hand. Friends who have seen other Michigan games this year claim that this was our strongest outing yet, and I believe them because they're honest, thinkin' folks. Plus, they seem to agree with MGoBlog's take. Still, that was pretty excruciating, not to mention disconcerting. What I once held up as one of the true pinnacles of college football is now a dead rivalry because one of the two teams is certifiably dead. And that team won the game. Because if Notre Dame couldn't dominate this Michigan team, especially when gifted six turnovers, the Fighting Irish are officially down for the count. After the game, Charlie Weis said, "We definitely showed up against a good opponent and it’s sweet." I can count at least three incorrect aspects to that sentence and one resides in a gray area. As I said last week, Notre Dame desperately needed to win this game. But to win it like this is almost worst. Had they lost - lost to the worst Michigan team since 1968 - they could have cut bait, thrown Charlie Weis and his bumb knee overboard and went about hiring a real head coach. This win is a reprieve of Weis and a reason not to eat his bloated contract at the end of the season. There is still a chance that such a thing happens, but Weis has now proven his hiring a failure. That's why, even though they won, Notre Dame lost. They won't be playing like champions any day soon, and I honestly feel badly for them. Heck. I feel badly for the game of college football. It never should have come to this.
At least I was finally able to watch some college football here in Buenos Aires. I found a bar here that was loaded with fans from all over - Texas A+M, Michigan, Notre Dame, Ohio State (yikes!), USC, Auburn, UCLA (double yikes!), and a gigantic contingent from Georgia. It would have been a great time if it weren't for those damn fumbles. Heck, it was a great time anyway. I got to hear from fans of the Big 12, Pac Ten, and SEC how awful the Big Ten is. What fun! How peeved are they going to be when either Wisconsin or Penn State runs the table and ends up in Miami? Really peeved, that's how peeved! And I'll be at "El Alamo" with them to hear further grievances. The .500 bowl record versus the SEC is my lone trump card - a weak one at that, but I plan to continue playing it as long as I can (likely termination date - January 1st, 2009). The real test is if I come back next week when Michigan has a bye. We'll see.
It was late April, 2006. I remember my upstairs neighbor, a proud Notre Dame graduate, glowingly asking me, "Did you hear we got our quarterback?" In a similar tone, I replied, "Yep. Did you hear we got ours?" My how things have changed.
When I started my trip last year, I chose Notre Dame for three reasons. 1) They had one of only two compelling home games across the nation to start their season. 2) It was close to home, so last-minute arrangements would be easy. 3) I had a feeling they were in for a down year, and I wanted to catch them when things were still cheery. But I don't think I or anyone else believed that the wheels would fall off quite so dramatically. Every week. In the weeks leading up to the debacle versus Georgia Tech, Domers were cheery as anyone. At the tailgates, they were all certain of victory, and to a man, they all had immense faith in Charlie Weis. I can't imagine that South Bend will be quite so sunny this Saturday morning. The cloud now looming is not merely threatening; it is dark enough to block one of the most successful programs in history from view completely.
Michigan, on the other hand, was to accomplish great things last season. We all know what happened starting that very day. Let's not dwell on it, OK? After all the events of last season, the approach for Michigan fans is an new and bewildering one. Nobody was very surprised when we lost to Utah. We're clinging to hopes of making a bowl game to keep the streak alive, and have real fears that we're going to suffer the same fate as the Irish last season. And our Golden Boy tasked with taking the program into the next era skipped town. (The saga of Ryan Mallet isn't the only reason I removed myself from the yearly recruiting chatter, but it certainly played a role.)
Hardly the clash of titans we expect when the two winningest programs in college football face off, the game is being openly derided in the media. Perhaps it should. Certainly, neither of these teams is going to win the national championship this season. However, in the context of college football, this game is immensely important. If Notre Dame loses this game, their situation becomes quite hopeless. Despite his outrageous contract extension, Weis has to be fired. Retaining him essentially proves the accusations of racism levied at the school, regardless of Willingham's failures at U-Dub. After a 3-9 season, if he can't beat this Michigan team, what possible argument can he make to continue as head coach?
Michigan, on the other hand, is staring that 3-9 possibility in the face. Excuses abound. No offensive linemen, no quarterback, and a new regime are all somewhat fair reasons for failure. To lose this game is somewhat expected. But winning this game will give the team the same boost Notre Dame got in 2005. That game is probably the biggest reason that the school and its fans showed such confidence in Weis. It was a sign that brighter days were ahead. That the sign turned out to be connivingly false shouldn't bother Michigan at all if we pull this game out. What a boost it would be for the rest of the season.
I find myself in a weird position this time around. I grew up despising Notre Dame, and attending Michigan only steeled my hatred. I've long said that the world of college football is a better place when the Irish are doing well, even though I had no love for them. But a funny thing happend to me last year. I spent enough time with the Domers that I began to understand them a bit. Even worse, I realized I actually liked them. I know. Gross, right? It was a bit like making out with your sister. It affected me to the point that when Michigan won last year's battle of 0-2 juggernauts 38-0, I really felt sorry for the folks in South Bend.
So what of this week's game? I have my viewing location staked out in Buenos Aires. They promise me the game will be on. Does my soft heart coupled with the fact that Notre Dame needs this game so much more than we do affect my mindset at all? Of course not. I hope we win 39-0! That is wholly impossible, and I will take a win under any circumstances. At this point, I'd still take some solace in being called tallest midget as opposed to the dumbest imbecile. In the long run, it might actually matter a lot.
Odometer: 22,131 Location: Chicago, IL States Visited: Indiana, Michigan, Illinois
I'm extremely short on time right now for reasons I will explain very soon. But despite my current busyness, I was able to fit in one last road trip. This was the culmination of a year's worth of research and a pilgrimage on various levels. I headed back to Ann Arbor, likely my last chance to do so for quite a while (again, I'll explain soon). Of all the driving I've done, this trip is the most familiar. I think I could do the Chicago to A2 jaunt in my sleep at this point. But I wasn't just going up there for the hell of it. I had been fortunate enough to set up an interview with Lloyd Carr. After getting all charged up reading Dave's heartfelt posting, I tried to make the most of the meeting.
We spent an hour in his office, talking about the state of the game and taking a few minutes to reminisce about that glorious 1997 season. The focus of my questions were primarily for my book, so certain curiosities such as, "What do you really think of Urban Meyer?" went unasked (though he briefly dropped the subtlest of hints at that particular topic). I hope to get an excerpt up here soon, time permitting. But I will say this, the man is sharp as a tack. Not only did he remember the name of my high school coach from his days on the recruiting trail while coaching at Illinois (1978-79), when I was unsure of which season Washington had played Minnesota in the Rose Bowl, '60 or '62, he knew it was 1960 immediately. We found ourselves agreeing on so many areas, I had to wonder if it was solely because he was my team's head coach and had therefore informed my sensibilities. I'm sure that must be at least partially the case. In sum, it was a fantastic hour for me, and I think he enjoyed our chat a little bit, too.
Yeah. This'n'll be framed.
After leaving Carr's office on a bit of a high, I poked around campus just a bit before going south to take a look at the progress on Michigan Stadium. The way things look right now, I question how ready they will be for that Utah game in three weeks. They have begun to put the bricks on, though. Gate 9 on the north end is "done", though it looks as plain as a prison entrance. I assume there are forthcoming additions to spruce things up a bit. Near the Indiana/Michigan border on my way home, I stopped at a fruit and vegetable stand across the street from a Panera Bread. Over the course of the season, I rarely had time to hit any side-of-the-road, family-run joints. I picked up some corn, blueberries, and tomatoes. They were about the same price as the local chain grocery store would have charged, but my goodness could you taste the difference. The tomatoes were so ripe they were practically bursting. They hadn't been carted halfway across the earth to arrive on my plate. It was nice to know that at the end of this trip, I'm still able to get a bit of the local flavor, even if I ended up savoring it in my own kitchen.
As I referenced above, I'll have a big update in the next day or two.
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