Beaten & blue
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Mourning beloved Bo, No. 2 Wolverines fall just short
BY MITCH ALBOM
DETROIT FREE PRESS COLUMNIST
November 19, 2006
COLUMBUS, Ohio -- The reason they're called storybook endings is because they usually happen in storybooks.
There was no such ending Saturday. No winning one for the old coach. In the biggest game in the history of Michigan-Ohio State, under clear autumn skies and a heaven that now had Bo Schembechler looking down from it, the Wolverines came out swinging, then got hit and hit and hit. They got up. They got hit. They got up. They got hit again.
They trailed by two touchdowns at halftime. They trailed by 11 points in the fourth quarter. They gave up more big plays than they've given up all season, gave up more points than they've given up all season, and yet, in the closing minutes, amid a sea of 100,000-plus screaming scarlet fans, they got up one last time, took a pass into the end zone, and pulled to within three.
It was already a classic game, facing a classic finish. But an onsides kick failed, and the Buckeyes ran out the clock. U-M never quit, never surrendered.
And didn't win.
"We lost to a better team today," coach Lloyd Carr said after the 42-39 defeat that keeps No. 1 Ohio State at No. 1 and leaves the second-ranked Wolverines with lots of questions -- which they will face after they say good-bye this week to Schembechler, in a private funeral and a public celebration at Michigan Stadium.
For now, take your hat off to the Buckeyes, who took the Big Ten title and remained undefeated by smothering Michigan's celebrated defense with an even more impressive offense. It was the 103rd meeting of these teams, and it's not likely any of the others had so much on the line and so much beneath the surface. It was, on the field, a battle for the Big Ten crown, a perfect record and a ticket to the national championship game. And it was also, in the air and sky and heavy hearts of Michigan fans around the world, the first game after the death of their greatest coach.
It was a game that opened with a moment of silence for Schembechler, and a PA announcement that referred to him as "an alumnus and a friend" followed by a standing ovation. We're pretty sure that's the first time that's happened in a Columbus stadium.
But once the game got going, it was all football. And, man, was there a lot of football. You'd need extra projectors to show all the highlights. For a game steeped in the tradition of Bo versus Woody, there was precious little of their style. Defense took a back seat to speedy offense. Running took a backseat to passing. Tackling took a backseat to elusive offensive moves. Ohio State had six offensive touchdowns. Michigan had five and a field goal. There were 900 combined yards of offense. Nine hundred yards?
In games like this, where both teams march down the field, someone's stumble usually tilts the result. And the turning point may have come with just under seven minutes left: Michigan, trailing only by four, held Ohio State on a third down on U-M's 38. The Buckeyes likely would punt, and a U-M touchdown drive would give the Wolverines the lead.
But wait. A whistle blew. Linebacker Shawn Crable was called for a personal foul -- a helmet hit on Troy Smith as the OSU quarterback went out of bounds. And instead of punting, the Buckeyes kept the ball and got a free first down.
A few plays later, Smith hit Brian Robiskie for a touchdown, the 41st point of the game, and that would simply be too much for U-M to overcome.
"I'm at a loss for words right now," said Smith, a senior who was indeed amazing and now 3-0 against U-M. This kid was the difference-maker. He threw for four touchdowns and 316 yards, connected with eight receivers, executed coach Jim Tressel's offense (which apparently is designed by supercomputer) to a tee, and always seemed to let go of the ball just before the Michigan pass rush could get to him.
If anyone but Smith wins the Heisman Trophy, there should be an investigation.
"I'll probably be wearing this smile the rest of the week," he said.
Smiles will come much harder in Ann Arbor.
Bo still casts a long shadow
Before the game, in the hallway of the press box, I saw Jerry Hanlon walking alone. Hanlon was one of the assistants who came from Miami of Ohio when Bo was hired to take over the Wolverines. He was beside Bo every game of the coach's tenure in Ann Arbor. Like other members of Bo's universe, it seems he has, over the years, come to walk like Bo, even look like Bo. Two days ago, he dropped by Schembechler's office and chatted. Then he went with him to the locker room for Bo's last address to the team. It would turn out to be the last time he saw him.
"Bo told me he was having trouble breathing," Hanlon said. "But he was going anyhow. In the locker room, Lloyd asked him if he wanted a stool. He said 'Hell, no, I don't want any stool.' "
Hanlon said Bo's address was moving and inspiring and all about the team. He wasn't trying to pep up the Wolverines. He was trying to tell the guys on the sidelines that they were as important as the guys in the starting lineup.
"He said you never know when you're gonna get called on, so be ready."
If only we could all be so prepared. Hanlon had the look that a lot of men had before this game -- men like Jim Brandstatter, the broadcaster, who was on Bo's first team, and Don Shane, from Channel 7, who was about to tape a show with Bo when the coach collapsed. The look they had was the look of someone kicked in the stomach. They were here, but part of them wasn't here.
Can you imagine then, what this game was like for Carr? For the last 27 years, Carr had never coached a Michigan game without Bo somewhere -- in front of him on the sidelines, above him in the press box, waiting for him at the office on Monday.
Now he was supposed to do the thing that Bo preached most often: block. He was supposed to block his grief, his memory, the voice in his head that questioned, "What am I doing here? My friend just died."
When Carr finally sat to face the media after this loss, he bravely focused on the details at hand. He recounted how he had to tell the team of the old coach's death -- after learning himself just a few minutes earlier -- but he was adamant that the two losses -- Bo and the game -- not be connected.
"I told our team we weren't going to use Bo and his passing away as a motivational deal," Carr said. "That would have been to dishonor him.
"I simply told them the way we could honor him is to coach and play in a way that would have made him proud."
Well, Bo would have been proud. He would have knocked over a table watching Michigan surrender 42 points -- but he, like his protégé, could not fault the effort. Carr will live with that. Yes, the defenders made mistakes. Yes, they surrendered too many big plays. And, yes, they are kids, in a hostile stadium, under a laser hot microscope.
Meanwhile, today, for Carr, may be harder than Saturday, because there is no Ohio State to shield the grief, and no upcoming game to distract attention from the now empty office just down the hall.
"I'm a little mad at him because he didn't stay around for this game," Carr said. "... All I can say about him" -- his voice cracked, and he bit his lip -- "is that I loved ... that man."
He rose quickly from the table, choking back his emotions.
History will record many elements of this afternoon. It will never be able to chronicle that.
Expect the unexpected
So much hype is expended on these games, and, as usual, most of the predictions seemed silly by halftime. Smith, supposed to be most dangerous because of his scrambling ability, threw 13 passes in the first quarter alone -- and none of them to Anthony Gonzalez, whom experts predicted would be a go-to guy. The U-M run defense, which was surrendering just 29 yards a game, gave up a 52-yard run to a freshman best known for his fumbling and a 56-yard run to Antonio Pittman. The teams, who were supposed to, by most predictions, play a low-scoring slugfest, had 42 points by the midway mark and 81 by the finish.
So much for past predictions. And who knows about the future? The debate will rage now as to whether Michigan (11-1) deserves a second crack at Ohio State (12-0) in a national title game. Mike Hart, who had a terrific game with 142 rushing yards and three touchdowns, said it was justified: "I guarantee if we play them again, it would be a whole different game."
Chad Henne, also superb with 267 passing yards, two touchdowns and no interceptions, said: "It would be great for us, but it's not up to us."
No, it is not. And it doesn't feel likely, although a rematch at a neutral site would be a different drama than what happened Saturday. If there was one word for this affair, it was "overwhelming." The sadness of losing Bo was overwhelming, the largesse of No. 1 versus No. 2 was overwhelming, and, in the end, Ohio State was overwhelming.
"I told them after the game, 'I'm going to tell you the same thing I was going to tell you after we won,' " Carr said. " 'I'm proud of you. I'm proud to be your coach. And I'm proud of the way you fought.' "
It is not the ending anyone in Ann Arbor wanted. And maybe some feel sad for the Michigan players that this game, which they waited all season to play, had to come with the heavy burden of the death of a beloved Michigan family member.
But college is supposed to be about learning. And a real life lesson is that things don't always go the way you want, and the timing of life is often inconvenient, the sad and the wonderful happening within hours of one another. However bad the players feel this morning, there are other things in life that are worse than losing a game. That lesson has been well learned in the last few days.
No storybook ending. But then this was not a storybook. It was sports. And if the heavy-hearted Wolverines fell three points short in the biggest game in this big game's history, well, that is hardly something to be ashamed of, is it?
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