Dancing in the Endzone: More Delicious Bacon

I've been notably silent since the Utah game. It kind of came and went without fanfare in my life. Here I am watching the Oregon State game, enjoying this second look at our improving team, and finally getting around to my keyboard.

The first problem was that we were driving deep into the northern realm of Michigan-free radio on Labor Day weekend. Not a high school fan? Not a Spartan? Not much of a chance then of hearing the Utah game in the car or at our TV-free cabin near Alpena. We listened to the first half in our car on a scratchy AM station with all the quality of Marconi's first transmissions in the early 1900s. The second half we enjoyed in a classic Up North Michigan bar with a couple TVs showing the game while old coots in John Deere and Remington caps did karaoke with remarkable range if not skill - crooning Conway Twitty and bobbin' to the Sugar Hill Gang. (You've gotta love Up North Michigan!) Between enjoying the show and the brief reconnection to my Twitterverse, I probably saw about half of that half. 

The second (and greater) problem in writing about the Utah game and Harbaugh's debut was all John U. Bacon's fault. He had to go and release Endzone on September 1 and proceed to ruin my sleep and sanity for nearly a week. I got my hard copy on "opening day" and had plans to go to his Rackham appearance before the realities of my impending trip north forced me to more practical tasks. He quickly added a second sale from my house, though. I wasn't through the door for two minutes when my boyfriend snatched the book from my hands and hit the couch, promising to be done in time for the weekend. As the Thursday drive to the communications abyss that is our cabin approached, I didn't see his bookmark on Endzone moving as quickly as it needed to. Enter my tablet, a quick download to my Kindle app, and voilà -- two people, two Endzones, no conflicts, love abides!

So yeah, this book consumed us both - a middle-aged pair of Michigan fanatics, who with no kids in tow, no neighbors around, nothing but fresh air, plenty of adult beverages, and boundless time, hopped into the sack and proceeded to, well, read Bacon simultaneously. (It didn't disappoint!)

Like all of Bacon's books, Endzone opened my eyes wider than I thought possible. As someone who spent most of 2014 hanging on every blog post, radio/TV broadcast, or tweet about the Michigan "situation", I thought I knew a lot. I now know that my grasp of things was little more than the skin and first layer of a very big, near-to-tear-inducing onion.

What I love about Endzone is that the book isn't a mere indictment of Dave Brandon. It would have been easy to lay out all his sins, focus all of the blame for everything wrong with Michigan football (or even Athletics) on him, and roast him in his own bitter juices. Bacon doesn't quite do that and proves his journalistic integrity by showing restraint and telling the whole story, including all the cast of characters and their contributions. Brandon is the primary antagonist, but he isn't alone. (Mary Sue Coleman, that's you, girlfriend.)

Endzone starts by establishing the historical baseline of past ADs and coaches by which all future pretenders to the positions would be measured. It's only after illustrating the Michigan Man's true origins in the actions and words of Baird, Yost, Crisler, Canham, and Schembechler, that Bacon (and the rest of the Michigan faithful) are able to legitimately measure Brandon and find him wanting. Really, desperately wanting.

The book is balanced and is careful to note the good things Brandon did as AD (in addition to his generally well-regarded stint as a Regent.) It illustrates his attention to the non-revenue sports and his admirable accessibility to all student-athletes, such as the book's interesting tale of punter Will Hagerup, who clearly saw sides of Dave Brandon most of us never knew.

Still, as someone who has experienced first hand the life-changing and stressful effects of new management, toxic organizational environments, and the destruction of quality, loyal, long-term employees, I came away from this read despising Dave Brandon even more. I will never feel the slightest pang of sympathy for him and his perceived losses. I hope never to see his face again associated with anything I love. 

He came so close to killing the soul of Michigan and its athletic tradition. He assumed a lot about what Michigan fans want to experience by consulting no one but his own greedy, narcissistic mind. The condescension bordering on contempt he showed for the average, not-able-to-donate fan was glaring. His treatment of non-athlete students was abysmal. If reading about the beginnings of the American Revolution spikes my patriotism, reading about the grassroots Michigan revolution of 2014 has completely reinforced my connection to this great university. I signed that Fire Brandon ePetition. My ancestors fought at Lexington and Concord, but that signature felt like a revolutionary step in my time. Cut off the head of the mad tyrant. Don't tread on Michigan.

What amazed me after consuming the book was how much more was happening that we didn't know. Endzone put rich, succulent flesh on the skeleton that was dangling in the Michigan Athletic Department closet during the Brandon years. I don't know how JUB kept all this detail quiet while waiting to publish. He's a stronger person than me. I would have burst into a thousand maize and blue bits months earlier. Here are some random thoughts that developed from reading it (with additional clarity provided by a recent re-peek at Bacon's classics Bo's Lasting Lessons, Three and Out, and Fourth and Long.) 

• Dave Brandon is a monumental piece of work. I'm appalled that Bo Schembechler died thinking Brandon a great man and shared one of his last dinners with him. This guy has so many issues on so many levels -- always striving to prove something. Is it feelings of inferiority from his days under Bo? A high school star relegated to the practice squad who spends the rest of his life trying show the world he was really superior to all of them (to all of us)? Was he getting even? I feel sorry for the employees of Toys 'R Us. They're about to stock some new "games" and work will surely not be the Barbie Dreamhouse for long.
• Lloyd Carr and the ridiculous influence of his personal preferences should not have been (or be) part of any discussion pertaining to the future of Michigan football or Michigan Athletics. If you love Lloyd, that's fine. I reserve my right to think he's not all that and a bag of chips.
• Rich Rodriguez, given the support that everyone gave Hoke, would have gotten Michigan to more than one B1G championship game by now. Everyone's treatment of him was shameful and unbecoming the University of Michigan.
• Brady Hoke should never have been given the opportunity to accept a job bigger than him. He's a good man who was offered his dream job and it ended in a nightmare. What he must have felt under Brandon's thumb! While Endzone shows the indecision and lack of real control that made his exit necessary, I do hope he finds a place he can thrive that doesn't require the high tensile strength and S.O.B. level of ferocity demanded of a coach in Ann Arbor.
• Mary Sue Coleman. She and her starry-eyed Brandon love helped foster these years of Horror. Thank God she retired when she did. It was the best thing she ever did for Michigan, at least related to athletics.
• Katherine White and Mark Bernstein will have my votes should they run again for Regent.  
• President Schlissel, Jim Hackett, the CSG, and the army of football insiders who worked on Harbaugh are heroes. It gives me a sense of calm knowing that they've done all they can for now to right the ship. The future is a mystery, but one I can be patient for, knowing that every day it's all getting better, tougher, stronger, and closer to what Michigan deserves and expects to be. 

Endzone is the perfect volume to conclude, for now, Bacon's documentation of the program we love. I recently recommended it to a friend and fellow Michigan alum who was unaware of Bacon's works. For any newbie to his football-related catalog, I'd start with Bo's Lasting Lessons, which is a light read in Bo's voice that lays the groundwork for understanding Michigan Football and linking its values to those that should be found in any organization or leader who expects respect and success. Follow that up, in order, with Three and Out (the Rich Rodriguez volume), Fourth and Long (the "state of college football" volume), and finally with Endzone. You'll start by learning how things should be and then follow the story as events unfold after Bo's death. You'll see how his lessons are rapidly lost in the myopic new organization. No need for a spoiler alert here. We know the story ends with hope and a Harbaugh at the helm, and therefore, with the final chapter comes a new beginning. We're left dancing in the Endzone.

We can only hope for a period of peace, winning, and prosperity that leave Bacon without a football-related muse until he's ready to pen something of pure joy, like "Urban Decay - the Downfall of the Buckeyes" or "Six and Counting: The Harbaugh Championship Years."

In the meantime, I plan to re-read these books regularly to remind myself how close we came to real peril and more so, to remember how to avoid similar loss of direction in my own life. There are lessons to be learned here that reach far beyond the game.

Hail to the Victors! Hail to the Conquering Heroes. Every single one of us.

Rip Van Wolverines - The Long Dark Sleep is Over

This is weird. I just woke up and feel like I've been having a Rip Van Winkle kind of Long Dark Sleep - I understand that it's 2015 and I've been deep in football dreams and nightmares for nearly nine years. The last thing I recall was Ohio State and Michigan being ranked #1 and #2 and about to challenge each other head-on for that top spot. Lloyd Carr had his team ready but Bo insisted on giving the Wolverines a special motivational speech. It was electric. I hadn't been so excited and confident for a game in a long time. And then, I don't know what happened, but my Michigan memory disappeared into a strange world where things happened in Ann Arbor that just don't occur in any reality I ever experienced at the university. I've heard from others that had a similar sleepy loss of time and place and memory. Maybe there was something in the air, like Dorothy in the poppy fields of Oz or contrails from aircraft whose owners, likely from East Lansing or Columbus, had nefarious plans for the Maize and Blue faithful. We'll never know. Bo's lifting up the team one minute. Jim Harbaugh's our coach the next. And there's the Dream Time in between.

I don't know what you remember from your dream sleep, but some key points from mine went something along these lines:

• Before that 2006 game, Bo Schembechler left this world. This couldn't have been real because he's immortal to us. He's just off somewhere, getting served Big Macs by Elvis, awaiting his triumphant return, the Once and Future Coach.
• Michigan adopted a spread offense and hired a guy named Rich Rodriguez who was from West Virginia and had no affiliation to the university at all. The greater Michigan family was divided and rancorous. To make it worse, the new guy tried to start new traditions. [Gasp] I know this to be impossible. Hire outside the extended Michigan family? Gimmicky spread offense? Dissent in the Michigan ranks. Not in a million years.
• Then President Mary Sue Coleman hired a new Athletic Director, Dave Brandon, a businessman hawker of pizza and coupon mailers whose primary qualifications for the job were being a slick marketing guru, a former Regent and a little known football player for Schembechler. After a slew of uncharacteristic losing seasons [cue the heavenly sounds of Josh Groban's "You Lift Me Up"] he made Rich Rod go away. 
• In no time, Brandon handed the coaching torch to a jovial unknown from SDSU, Brady Hoke. He looked like Fred Flintstone but he knew exactly what to say to seduce the Wolverine family. In dreams, you hear what you want to hear. He had a National Championship ring from the 1997 season of glory.  [Fade out Groban and fade into Pop Evil's infernal "In the Big House"] He understood Michigan was a place of "Tradition!" and didn't rock the boat. After going 11-2 his first season, I almost remember waking up. (This was a false memory - a dream within a dream, if you will.) And then things went a little hallucinogenic. Hoke apologized to MSU about some perceived slight involving a tent stake. Beyonce spoke to us at a half-time show. And Tom Harmon's sacred number was not only being worn, but getting ground into the turf behind the line of scrimmage with remarkable regularity. Tickets were being given away for buying a Coke or using a coupon at Meijer. Long-time attendance records were in danger of falling. The AD was telling fans to find another team via angry late night emails. The Alumni Association offered a membership Groupon.

STOP. I can't even recall this psychedelic break from reality without high anxiety. If it had really happened someone would have stepped in and put an end to it. Right?

Well, it's the ultimate relief to know that all of it was just a weird, horrific nightmare. I'm awake now and aware (fully!) for the first time since I blacked out of Michigan Football on November 17, 2006.

Sure, I'm sad to realize that Bo really is gone. I'm just glad I got to talk to him over beers a couple years before that day. I see Rich Rod winning at Arizona, Dave Brandon leading Santa's Elves at Toys 'R Us, and Brady Hoke enlightening listeners about high energy execution on Sirius radio -- as if nothing bad ever happened here at all.

And this Thursday, when Jim Harbaugh marches onto the field in Utah for his first game at the helm of the Wolverines, a new dream begins for all of us. It'll be a waking dream and will certainly have its share of twists and turns. Ecstatic highs and of course, some rough patches that may occasionally make us nervous about the return of the Long Dark Sleep. We all suffer a Michigan football fan's version of PTSD. But it won't come. 

Part of the Long Dark Sleep was preparing us for this moment and preparing our leader for his time. In this new dream, Bo isn't really gone. He's living on in Jim Harbaugh's head 24/7/365 - a testament to the lessons and wisdom imparted by the old legend to his long-in-coming rightful heir.There will be no excuses, no passing the buck, and above all, no apologies to anyone, especially our rivals in East Lansing and Columbus. Accountability. Execution. Dedication. Work. These words will be defined and upheld in ways none of the coaches of the Long Dark Sleep could realize here. 

So dream on, dear Wolverines, and enjoy the show.  Scene One, Act One on Thursday should be dramatic. And I think Team 136 can pull this one off. I can't begin to bet against Harbaugh in his opener. He may be coaching some of the same men who contributed to years of "Ls", but there's no way on Earth they're the same players.

Let the games begin. GO BLUE! 

Déjà-vu and '69: Does a Buckeye Win Mean It's Happening?

The National Championship Game tonight looks a lot different than I expected it would a couple months ago when the world was wondering how the NCAA was going to pit two SEC West teams together without angering the rest of the country. Like most non-SEC fans who are sick to death of hearing about SEC greatness, tonight's match-up between Oregon and Ohio State pleases me. At least on the surface. 

I like the new format because the playoffs to get to tonight's game did a decent job of getting two very deserving teams together. In retrospect, TCU may rightly argue that it deserved a playoff berth over FSU based on both teams' bowl performances. These kinds of judgments will always leave someone upset. If they went to an eight team format, Team #9 would feel the same way. For a first time run through the process, I think it's proven itself superior to the old BCS format already. With no changes, we'd likely be watching an Alabama/Florida State or Alabama/Oregon game tonight. 

The moral quandary I feel about this game lies in who to support. I have no affinity for the Oregon Ducks. They can be fun to watch and I like their uniform combos. Forgive me, this is the "girl" in MGoGirl! I also have plenty of unadulterated hate for OSU and it would take a whole separate post to document its history. In the end, I think I can justify nearly any outcome tonight in a way that makes me feel good - or at least feel hope.

If the Ducks Fly High

This is the easiest and happiest outcome to swallow. It doesn't compromise any deep-seated values and beliefs. If the Ducks win, I don't have to live in a world where Buckeye trolls can taunt us with "THE Ohio State University Buckeyes - 2015 National Champions" for the rest of the year and God knows how long after that. The jealous Wolverine in me would take immense pleasure in seeing OSU lose ... and the bigger the better. If the Bucks have to choke down the bitter pill of loss and humility, I can support that with enthusiasm. The Buckeyes always get nice things. Some deserved - I can't deny that they have one dee-luxe incredible coach. Some not deserved - again, that's a whole other post. Tonight, I'm okay to let Urban Meyer eat cold, sad post-game consolation pizza. Again.

If the Buckeyes Rise

This is where I'm supposed to insert the usual platitudes about the B1G not having a great reputation and how an OSU national championship would raise the conference into a semblance of respect again. And, yes, I do believe that it would help the B1G a little bit. 

Most of all though, it would just suck. Helping the B1G isn't a big enough feel-good point to justify puffing up the most irritating fans in college football with the eternal glory of their victory. There would be no end to it for years to come. 

So just how do I justify acceptance of a Buckeye championship? 

It comes down to my feeling that something is happening beyond our control. A little déjà-vu, if you will. A little karmic justice. And all we, as Michigan fans, need to do is be patient and put up with the trolls for a few months.

All the Pieces are Falling Into Place

This is what I feel in my bones. And you may think I'm nuts and that's okay. But IF Ohio State wins tonight, it's happening. 1969 redux. The parallels are there. 

• I think it's the reason we've spent years wallowing in mediocrity. Like the 1960s under Bump Elliott, whose tenure had some rough years and perennial problems beating OSU and MSU. 
• I think it's the reason that Jim Harbaugh came to us this at exactly this time, in a moment of great need and desperation for the program. He was schooled by Schembechler, the man who took over a struggling Michigan team from Elliott in 1969. A team for which few people had great expectations going into the season. 
• I think it's the reason that Ohio State might win the National Championship this year and carry itself with the arrogance of invincibility into next fall. The same way they carried themselves into Ann Arbor that fatefulday in 1969. Defending champs expecting to let the blood of a few Wolverines. And the rest became history.

If OSU wins tonight, it's all happening so that on November 28, 2015 in front of what could be a record crowd at the Big House, Jim Harbaugh will lead a recharged and resurgent Michigan team to an unexpected victory over the Buckeyes - defending National Champions - just like his mentor Bo did 46 years earlier. 

We all know history is bound to repeat itself. In a few hours we'll know just how closely it might come to pass.