I witnessed the “Blocked Kick Heard Round the World†while sitting in a bar in Midland, Michigan. I was working on a minor league baseball article when the impossible (but obviously inevitable) happened. As the Appalachian State player was dragged down and the clock reached zero, history had been made. Michigan fans were stunned. Everyone else rejoiced. (College football is rife with schadenfreude.) Don’t think so? **cue the clip**
[youtube]http://youtube.com/watch?v=MOBjdka9uEw&feature=bz100[/youtube]
And don’t fool yourself into believing these folks were pulling for an underdog as much as they were giddy to see a titan toppled. It’s the nature of the big time college football fan.
As this historic event came to pass, I realized what I was feeling wasn’t disappointment. It certainly wasn’t happiness. Living in a quality football-starved area like Detroit, it’s no surprise many locals hitch their loyalty to the Michigan bandwagon. They’re the most professional team in the state.
Did you read that last line, Detroit Lions? Read it again. It’s true.
During the years of Desmond Howard and the Fab Five, I was lucky enough to visit Ann Arbor every weekend. My girlfriend (at the time) spent five years attending the university. When she graduated, my best friend spent his graduate years at U of M. That’s nine years of partying and attending football games. The Kordell Stewart game? I was there. I dropped enough cash in the coffers of Ann Arbor watering holes to equal at least a semester or two of university tuition.
I’ve paid my dues.
1997 was a magical year. After countless weekends of following the Wolverines, the payoff of a national championship was the pinnacle moment for me as a college football fan. Michigan had won playing the “Michigan Wayâ€. Tough schedule. Conservative offense. Big defense. Hustle and hits. Three yards and a cloud of dust. The team had Bo Schembechler’s thumb print all over it. The Rose Bowl victory was almost too good to be true. (Considering Michigan’s recent record in Rose Bowl games, a victory – regardless of a championship or not – was a pleasant surprise.)
But 1997 was also the season when I began to really notice the darker side of college football somewhat sullying a perfect season.
When Tom Osborne announced his pending retirement, fellow coaches couldn’t wait to award Nebraska a share of a national championship as a parting gift. A soft non-conference schedule had no effect upon the Cornhuskers’ place in the rankings. Nebraska’s penchant for big scores drew more attention from coaches than Michigan’s close-to-the-vest style of play. When personal politics entered the contest (like a certain bitter Tennessee head coach voting Michigan fourth in the final coaches poll because his golden boy quarterback was edged out by Charles Woodson for the Heisman Trophy), I began to realize the NCAA cares more about the popularity of it’s elite teams than determining an actual champion.
Shortly after splitting the mythical national championship, the powers-that-be in Ann Arbor decided to follow the lead of other elite football programs and dumb down their non-conference schedule. The addition of a few money-starved patsies allowed the Wolverines to pad their schedule with extra home dates and a couple more guaranteed wins. Posting the requisite seven wins to qualify for a post-season bowl game became more important than actually finding opponents worthy of playing.
The danger of scheduling gimme games becomes apparent when one of the pushovers finally shoves back and wins. Michigan’s narrow defeat at the hands of Appalachian State ranks as one of the worst – if not the worst – defeat in the history of college football. The golden domers were handed their heads (in front of Touchdown Jesus no less) by Georgia Tech and the Wolverine’s two-point defeat is the talk of the football nation.
And it should be.
Teams like Michigan should be ashamed for scheduling the Appalachian States of the world. Sure, Notre Dame was mercilessly pounded but their opponent was worthy of delivering a pounding. A game merely intended to be a “tune-up†game for the Wolverine program ended up becoming Appalachian State’s greatest football victory. Keep in mind, the Mountaineers are coming off back-to-back Division I-AA championships. (With playoffs and everything. What a novel idea to determine a champion.)
Hopefully U of M learned a lesson from this epic debacle. Maybe they’ll go back to their former selves and schedule opponents worthy of losing to. Will it mean a few more 8-4 seasons? Sure. Will they football program be able to pride itself much the way Notre Dame continues to (regardless of their recent struggles)? Definitely.
In the meantime, Canon Fodder will continue to rail against the absurdity of Division I-A football and the ludicrousness of the BCS system. Readers can expect an article in the next month or so spelling out how the NCAA should handle the post-season for their highest tier of college football. Until then, I’ll go back to ignoring the make-believe competition America’s institutions of higher learning are doling out to us on the gridiron every Saturday afternoon.
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