Michigan Wolverine Fans Content to Live in the Past? Not This One

For nearly my entire adolescent life, I faced no trials as a Michigan fan.  I was born in 1981, so by the the time I was old enough to understand the importance of "the Game," or the in-state bragging rights that come with a victory of MSU, Michigan was never really a disappointment.

I grew up watching Bo in his last season, Moeller leave too early because of his personal life, and Lloyd Carr take the reins and continue the Blue's dominance over the Buckeyes.

I was blessed with living in central Ohio at the time and being able to lord it over my frustrated Buckeye neighbors and friends.  As a junior in high school, I watched, tears in my eyes, as Michigan won its first national championship in forever in '97. 

I enjoyed the same year, a former Wolverine, Desmond Howard, winning Super Bowl MVP.  I was on top of the sporting world. 

Even when the Buckeyes hired Tressel and Michigan dropped a few in a row, I still had Tom Brady to brag about.  Who else produced the best QB to ever play the game?  Three Super Bowls and so young?  Surely, Joe Montana (whom I loved) was shaking in his Hall of Fame cleats.

In 2006, when Bo died, the cliche became reality—part of me died with the old man.  I didn't even care that we barely lost to OSU. Then came 2007.  Michigan had barely missed the NC game due to a whining Urban Meyer and a general distaste in the other conferences for the Big Ten's apparent return to prominence.

I was ready for Henne and Hart, Manningham and Arrington—all of the Blue's best—to come out and win another for Carr.

Ten years and another championship in sight—it was 1997 all over again in my mind.  As a fan, I was back!  Then we missed two field goals and shocked the world—losing to FCS Champion Appalachian State.  No amount of grief in previous seasons could have prepared me for the barrage of ridicule that came my way that season. 

When it was announced at the end of the season that Carr was retiring, I was certain my world could not get worse.  I count it a blessing from God we won the Capital One bowl against the mighty SEC bastion, Florida.  At least good ol' Carr was going out on a good note.

Nothing could compare with the despair of 2008, however.  3-9 sounded more like a Lions record than a Michigan record.  I cursed Rich Rodriguez and his inflexibility—for not using the weapons he'd inherited. 

I woefully forced myself to watch every game, taking shot after shot from the Buckeyes at work as the season progressed.  January came, and for the first time in my life, there was no bowl to watch Michigan in.

I was at rock-bottom (Thank GOD for Belein).

Fast-forward to today and we're less than a week away from kickoff of the 2009 season.  Sure, I could live in the past.  I could try to allay my fears of a program drop-off by reflecting on all those glory years under those "Michigan Men."

But I won't.

Michigan football means more to me than any other team on this planet.  I proudly bear my colors in the most hostile of environments (Columbus, OH).  I take the crap that is piled upon me incessantly.  Day after day, season or offseason, I read, write, and prepare.

I toil over Phil Steele's commentary, decoding his short-hand into nuggets of hope.  I make my blog rounds every day at lunch, grasping at the newest material - the newest bad news.  All of this pushes me towards dwelling on the past - but I won't.

I won't because it's not what is best for Michigan, and it's not what's best for its fans.  I will wear shirts emblazoned with "In Rod We Trust" not only because of its Simpsons' reference, but because I truly DO want to trust in Rich Rodriguez.

After all this time, I have come to one simply conclusion—I do not know half of what he does about football and what it takes to win.  I was afforded the ability to question Carr's coaching because he won a lot.  It's easy to criticize and forget—you stay grounded.  It's another thing to criticize out of pain alone—no wins to ease the suffering.

I feel your pain, Wolverine Nation. I do.  It will not, however, help the boys in Blue to focus on the former glories of our "storied program."  No amount of quoting "winning-est program in the NCAA" or "11 National Championships" will hearken the coming of new Championships, or adding to our win total.

It will only show the world that we are not comfortable to be in the here and now.  So I make a suggestion to those that are searching for hope and looking backwards to find it.  Turn around, put on your colors, and support our team no matter who is at the helm.  Cheer no matter what kind of offense we run. 

If we lose, do not boo, as we did last year.  Be what we have long been, a stalwart body of supporters for the "Champions of the West."  In doing so, you will find hope and preserve the past instead of dwelling on it.

God Bless and GO BLUE!