Three and Out (24 page)

When Sam Webb at WTKA called Leach that morning for his take on the Ohio State game, for the first time Leach didn't merely support Rodriguez but attacked his critics and asked where Carr had been that season, and why hadn't he been defending Rodriguez the way Schembechler had defended Carr?

These charges are now familiar to most Michigan fans, but at the time they seemed shocking and made big news. People on the buses going to Columbus played the interview on their computers again and again, to rapt listeners. It announced that a new battle had started—off the field and in public.

A week later, Webb asked Leach to return to his morning show. Leach had to talk it over with his family.

Both Leach and Bill Dufek are in sales and depend on name recognition and goodwill to make their livings. Both had a lot to lose and nothing tangible to gain if they joined a public fight; they would surely become fair game themselves. Anyone watching the press's treatment of Rodriguez was wise to be leery.

Leach gathered his wife and three sons in their living room and explained what Don Nehlen had asked and what he felt he had to do for Rodriguez and Michigan football. But he needed to know if they supported him in doing this. If they wanted him to leave well enough alone, he would drop it.

“No,” they said, one by one. “You need to do this. We're with you.”

So Leach agreed to go back on Webb's show, but this time he tried to be as unemotional as possible and keep Carr and others out of it by leading with statistics to support the commonly held view that Rodriguez simply didn't have the personnel previous Michigan coaches all enjoyed. This appearance was less heated, but Leach let it be known that he and Dufek—and soon others—would not sit idle.

*   *   *

Of the seventy players who had earned a seat on Michigan's team buses to Columbus, forty-one were walk-ons or freshmen—not exactly the kind of team poised to upset Ohio State, and a far cry from the eleven All-Americans Schembechler inherited from Elliott, four of whom would be inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame. Likewise, when Schembechler retired, he left Gary Moeller enough talent to win three straight Big Ten titles, extending Michigan's streak to five. And when Carr won the 1997 national title, almost all those starters had been recruited by Moeller and his staff, which included, of course, Lloyd Carr, who had been, by all accounts, an excellent recruiter.

In contrast, Rodriguez had the task of rebuilding an offense that had lost ten starters, five to the NFL—including Chad Henne, Mike Hart, and Jake Long, who set just about every school record at their positions. Rodriguez opened the season with ten returning starters on defense, but just fifteen seniors, fourteen juniors, and only one returning starter on offense (and no seniors), plus two quarterbacks who had never thrown a pass in college. According to ESPN, Michigan was one of the youngest teams in Division I, and would be again in 2009.

At the team dinner the night before the Ohio State game, after the players had filed out, I asked Rodriguez how he felt. He picked up a short piece of silverware and said, “I feel like I'm heading into a gunfight with a butter knife.

“Our guys have been busting their butts all season, and I'm proud of them. But the Buckeyes, almost to a man, are bigger, stronger, faster. Older. We're putting freshman walk-ons against senior All-Americans. That's asking too much.”

But the mostly young, inexperienced Wolverines gave the Buckeyes a battle. Ohio State started with the ball, but on its first possession Michigan's Stevie Brown intercepted a Terrelle Pryor pass at midfield and almost ran it in for a touchdown. Instead of going up 7–0 early and giving the Buckeyes something to think about, Michigan's offense stalled once more, so the coaches called for the field goal team on fourth-and-15 from the Ohio State 18. But, once again, Michigan missed the kick.

After the Wolverine defenders pinned the Buckeyes deep in their own territory, freshman Tay Odoms dropped another punt, which the Buckeyes recovered. But they played hard and managed to get to the locker room down only 14–7. Rodriguez's five successors at Michigan had all lost their first games to Michigan State, but all won their first Ohio state games. A season-saving upset was still a possibility.

But just as Michigan's first half held to form, so did its second. The Buckeyes scored four unanswered touchdowns while giving up none, to post another victory over their rivals, 42–7—the worst loss Michigan suffered in Columbus since the infamous 50–14 drubbing in 1968, the year before Bo Schembechler arrived.

Rodriguez's first season at Michigan was, mercifully, finally over. The Wolverines had finished the year 3–9, their worst record since 1961 and the most losses ever in Michigan's 129-year history.

*   *   *

When a writer asked legendary basketball coach John Wooden who the best coaches in the game were, he replied, “The ones with the best players.” Even before the start of the 2008 season, Rodriguez and his staff knew their first job was to get the best players and develop the ones they had. Then, with more conditioning, better knowledge of the spread offense, and quarterbacks like Tate Forcier and Shavodrick Beaver—plus two dozen other players who had already committed to Michigan—they might start to demonstrate what their program could do.

And that's why, when the team's buses rolled back through Ohio's cornfields on two-lane rural routes with the sun setting on a fresh blanket of snow, five assistant coaches were staying behind in Columbus that night to start out on recruiting trips that much faster the next morning.

For some of the very reasons that Michigan struggled so much in 2008—a new coach, a new system, and a lot of new players—they were optimistic about 2009 and beyond.

In 2008, seven new players on offense accounted for roughly half of Michigan's rushing yards, passing yards, and touchdowns, and all seven would return in 2009. Brandon Graham, who had transformed himself into a pro prospect, decided to return for his senior season. And, thanks to early commitments, Michigan was already in the thick of the recruiting race.

Shavodrick Beaver, who had committed to Michigan in April 2008, had his mom call Rod Smith on December 19 to tell him her son would be attending Tulsa instead. The main reasons seemed to be proximity to their Dallas home and his upcoming shoulder surgery, which would put him eight months behind Tate Forcier. But, inevitably, Rodriguez took some heat for it.

Michigan also lost its two four-star defensive linemen, Pearlie Graves and DeQuinta Jones, when they flipped to Texas Tech and Arkansas, respectively. Still, Michigan's recruiting class was shaping up to be a very strong one, starting with Forcier. During halftime of the Army All-Star Game in January, Will Campbell, a five-star defensive lineman said to be the top recruit in the state of Michigan, stood in front of a table with the hats of LSU and Michigan before him. With the NBC cameras rolling, Big Will ended months of conflicting reports by picking up the “M” hat, jamming it on his head, and making a muscle-man pose. Forcier and Campbell would join five other freshmen on Michigan's campus in January 2009, which would allow them to participate in the fifteen practices for spring ball to get ready to play that fall.

Rodriguez felt he also had to make some changes on his coaching staff. “When Toledo beats Michigan at the Big House, and their coach still gets fired—well, that tells you what kind of year we had,” he said. “If you don't face the facts, you can never fix the problem.”

And the biggest problem, in Rodriguez's view, was the defense. Instead of being the team's savior, with ten returning starters—more than the offense and special teams combined—it gave up an incredible 346 points that season, the most in Michigan history. Something had to give.

“The two fastest ways to get fired from my staff are disloyalty and cheating,” Rodriguez told me in December 2008. “My first year at West Virginia, my defensive coordinator was disloyal, and he was gone. That's it. But none of these guys are disloyal, and none of them cheat. They're all good guys, and that only makes it harder. I've seen coaches who just let 'em go, with no warning. I can't do that, but we just had the worst defense in the history of the school. You've got to produce, and we didn't. As bad as our offense was, our chemistry on defense was worse—among both the players and the coaches. So expect some changes there. I've given a few coaches a heads-up.”

Two weeks after he said this, defensive coordinator Scott Shafer announced his resignation.

There was still the question of recruiting a second quarterback. While Rodriguez had always wanted Denard Robinson to play quarterback, wires crossed with Shafer, who had worked hard to recruit the speedster as a defensive back. But Denard had been adamant. “I wasn't coming to Michigan to play corner,” Robinson told me. He had already turned down Florida for the same reason and had explained as much to Shafer.

But about the same time Shavodrick Beaver informed Michigan he was turning to Tulsa, defensive back coach Tony Gibson happened to be in Deerfield to recruit defensive back Adrian Witty for 2010. While there, he checked in on Robinson and was surprised to learn he was still interested in Michigan—but solely as a quarterback. Michigan wisely got him by signing day.

*   *   *

Looking back on the brutal year behind him and the arc of his career, Rodriguez could be philosophical. “People say it's harder to be at the top than the bottom,” he told me. “But I guarantee you, anyone who says that has never been at the bottom.

“This year, we've seen the good, the bad, and the ugly. How do we feel about it? I guarantee you this: We feel worse than all the students and alumni and fans combined. We have to live with this. We're responsible for it. But trust me, we know what we're doing, and we're going to get this going. It's happened this way every time. It's not fun, but it's predictable.

“We're going to get there. It won't be tomorrow, and it won't be easy, but we're going to get there.”

But crucially, in December 2008, Rodriguez was answering the wrong question. It was not: Could his team get there? but: Could they get there fast enough?

Rodriguez didn't know it yet, but the storm was not behind him. It was building and headed his way.

 

14   SHARPENING THE SWORD

The 2009 team lost eleven scholarship seniors from the 2008 team, plus Steven Threet, who transferred again, this time to Arizona State; Sam McGuffie, who transferred to Rice; and Toney Clemons, who transferred to Colorado. But they added seven recruits who enrolled in January, and they would add more that August.

This new group gathered in the team room on Friday, January 9, 2009, for its first meeting as a squad.

Rodriguez kept it short, asking all of them to fill out a card listing their individual goals—in terms of academics, conditioning, and football, in that order—against which he would measure them.

The team's goals hadn't changed much: win revenge games (there were plenty to choose from that year), beat their three rivals, win the Big Ten title. But Rodriguez added a new one: “I've asked the academic people what the team's highest grade point has been,” he said, “and they told me it's a 2.60.” He wrote it on the board in big numbers. “I think we can beat that. I
know
we can beat that. But it's going to take
all
of you, doing your best.”

He then explained the Wolverine Olympics, a competition he had devised whereby the seniors drafted eight teams of players, then tried to get the most points—given out for touchdowns and tackles, attending classes, getting above a 3.0, visiting Mott Children's Hospital, and so on—and to avoid demerits.

“Last year, the teams that didn't win fell behind because of the negatives, like missing class, violating the team dress code, or showing up late for a workout. That's the difference between winning and losing here, and in the Big Ten.”

Rodriguez assigned each team to a position coach's room. In Bruce Tall's class, he told them that last year his team had come close to winning, and he intended to win it with this bunch.

He introduced himself, gave a sketch of his family, then called on the newly enrolled Tate Forcier to introduce himself.

“Oh! Um, I'm Tate.”

“Hi, Tate!” the others said jokingly.

“Last name?” Tall asked. There was a message in that.

“Oh, um—Forcier. Tate Forcier.”

“And what position do you play?”

“Huh?”

“Position.”

“Ah. Quarterback.”

After a few more biographical facts, Tall said, “Glad to have you on board, Tate. David?”

Senior-to-be David Moosman, who played chess in elementary school in a national championship club, encouraged his teammates to come with him to Mott on Thursday nights.

“Don't make it a chore,” Kevin Grady added. “Make sure you have fun with it. They need some fun.”

Bruce Tall felt compelled to mention a missing team member: Zoltan Mesko, the punter with a 4.3 grade point average in the Ross Business School, which caused a few veteran players to cheer. “Trust me,” Tall added, “I know how to pick 'em!”

The next official team gathering five days later wasn't so warm and fuzzy.

On Wednesday morning, January 14, at 7:56, half the team gathered in the weight room, wearing matching white Michigan T-shirts and blue Michigan Adidas shorts, to meet Mike Barwis and his staff. The other half would meet that afternoon.

“Now, you've got to get your mind right, right now!” he said. “Everything we do here, we do the right way—from getting to class to doing your squats. We're going to keep in mind,
every minute of every day
, what we want to be next season—and that's Big Ten champions. Because it all starts right here.

“And for every meeting, your ass is
early.
For every workout, your ass is
early
, and for every class, your ass is
early.
No excuses! This is what we want, and this is how we're going to get it.