Endzone: The Rise, Fall, and
Return of Michigan Football
John
U. Bacon
I
think that every college football fan, regardless of allegiance,
would admit that it's been somewhat difficult to be a Michigan fan
lately. For
better and
worse, the
Wolverines' time
in the wilderness has coincided with
the
beginning of my own devotion to the maize and blue.
It is thus with a mix of emotions that I approached Endzone,
John U. Bacon's chronicle of the post-Rodriguez era at my beloved
alma mater, a period that would come to be characterized by athletic
director Dave Brandon's outsize ego. Bacon wisely opens with a brief
but thorough history of Michigan's athletic department, including the
origins and evolution of some of its most honored institutional
traditions. While it would have been easy to assume, probably
correctly, that his audience would already be familiar with
everything from Michigan's status as a top academic and athletic
university to the concept of a "Michigan Man", Bacon
instead lays the groundwork that is so essential to understanding how
deeply Brandon betrayed the fanbase and how effectively he turned
tens
of thousands
of
fans
against him in such a relatively short span of time.
As
a devoted Michigan fan who closely followed the events of Endzone
as they occurred, I found it somewhat painful to revisit some of the
program's lowest moments. Losing the bowl streak and all but
a single game to Ohio State
were bad enough, but Brandon's influence resonated far beyond the
football field. I felt myself shaking with anger while reading about
all of the longtime athletic
department employees
who suddenly
found
themselves unwanted or emotionally
incapable of surviving under his cutthroat leadership;
the remarkable institutional memory developed over half a century or
more evaporated almost immediately, and that is something that cannot
be simply or quickly recovered- if it is even possible to do so.
Worse still are the stories of coaches pushed out despite respectable
results and a positive atmosphere around their programs. Even
after living through all of this the first time, I found myself
occasionally shocked and often
disgusted by many of the book's revelations, not least by the
pettiness that seemingly characterized so much of Brandon's reign and
the ease with which he casually discounted and discarded any opinions
that weren't his own.
In
his book, Bacon consistently does what Brandon continually failed to
do: he examines the greater context and examines the evidence within
it before
suggesting a conclusion.
While Bacon's intentions to tell a complete and relatively unbiased
story are evident from the start, his attention to narrative detail
isn't replicated in the book's copy editing. I hesitate to fault him
for the errors that plague the book, from minor punctuation and
spelling errors to entire sentences repeated next to one another, but
they do detract from the reading experience and, more vitally, from
the biased reader's sense of smug satisfaction upon discovering that
Dave Brandon's would-be fairytale castle has an
unnecessary possessive apostrophe
(one
of my personal pet peeves).
Nonetheless, the coherent narrative structure and Bacon's general
attention to detail make Endzone
a remarkably pleasant reading experience, particularly for a
nonfiction book.
Moreover,
Bacon knows
exactly how to weigh and balance anecdotes, opinions, and facts.
Given his
personal history with the Wolverines and the particular details of
this story, the
book's even-handedness is its finest achievement; Bacon could have
easily slid into vindictive invective
against Dave Brandon but
operates with considerable restraint even when unmistakably
condemning him. The stories coming out of South Campus have been
remarkably consistent, and Bacon is careful to avoid libel, carefully
documenting his sources and tempering their more outlandish claims.
The
interspersed
segments detailing Will
Hagerup's personal experiences with Brandon may initially seem
misplaced and oddly specific, but it gradually becomes clear that
Bacon includes Hagerup's experience as a counterpoint to the
prevailing anti-Brandon sentiments of his various sources: there
simply isn't much evidence in support of Brandon.
Tempting
as it may be for the emotionally involved reader to turn away from
Endzone,
the Wolverine faithful can take comfort in the fact that the book
does have a happy ending. As painful as it is to revisit the
department's various embarrassments, it is equally (if not more)
heartening to read about students, former players, and fans of all
kinds coming together to oust the imposter and restore order.
Michigan's successful pursuit of Jim Harbaugh forms a fitting coda to
the book, a demonstration of the fierce power of a passionate group
united by their unwavering belief in a set of principles and their
desire to restore a beloved program to greatness. That may seem
melodramatic, but few spectacles
are as impressive as witnessing over 100,000 people cheering in
unison, or waiting with a single bated breath for the ball to sail
through the air, under the lights, and land in the arms of a waiting
receiver clad
in Michigan's traditional blue home jersey.
I have felt the palpable power of fandom, and the groundswell of
support for the program in the wake of arguably the worst stretch in
its history is a remarkable phenomenon and, again, an appropriate
ending for the book as Michigan fans finally begin to look forward
with more than the
tentative,
automatic
hope that
characterizes most preseason fan bases.
All
told, John Bacon's exploration of Michigan's recent troubles and, we
can only hope, the beginnings of a new foundation of hope offer many
lessons within and beyond the realm of big-time college athletics.
Similar struggles play out daily across an increasingly incentivized
marketplace that prioritizes profit over passion. At Michigan, fans
felt marginalized throughout Dave Brandon's tenure, and resisted
fiercely as the formerly charismatic chairman sought to undermine the
very values that led
them
to the Wolverines in the first place. It is a story that resonates
far beyond its stated scope and one that provides potentially
valuable lessons applicable throughout the real world. As it turns
out, Endzone
is about far more than one program's recent history, striking instead
at the heart of modern economic culture and the wars between thriving
organic communities and the cold, calculating corporate machines who
would destroy it all for a quick buck; what a relief, then, that
Michigan fans' passion carries the day.
Grade:
A