1975

Hello: AFC Ann Arbor. We are getting a minor league soccer team that I am inordinately excited about, and tickets have just gone on sale. I already hate Oakland United FC for having both "United" and "FC" in their name. I bet their crest doesn't even have a tree. Or stripes. I do not know how these tossers deign to call themselves any sort of organization. Down with United Sporting Real FC Oakland Dinamo.

Anyway.

AFCAA has an eight game home schedule over the summer; in year one they're playing at Pioneer. Plenty of current and former Wolverines are on the team, and it sounds like they're importing some food carts (Mark's carts?) for games. I'll be at the home opener May 1st, stop by and say hi.

Jim Harbaugh has the best twitter feed. Tips for identifying good coaching twitter feeds:

GOOD: odd capitalization and grammar, random shoutouts to Cracker Barrel and Judge Judy
BAD: hashtags, motivational sayings, motivational sayings embedded in hashtags

Harbaugh is on the good side of the equation:

Michigan Nicknames Snake-Bubba-Jumbo-Flame-Soup-EasyEd-BigEd-BigHoss-Chunky-SirCharles-Bump & the ultimate nickname that became legendary Bo

— Coach Harbaugh (@CoachJim4UM) March 27, 2015

Amongst many people saying "don't forget X" I declare Derek Moore the winner for reminding Harbaugh that he should not forget the legend of Tony Pape, AKA "Fat Elvis."

Spring Creaning time. A couple days after Stanford Robinson said "I'm not going anywhere" to media in the IU locker room, the university announced his transfer. Today he was followed by freshman wing Max Hoetzel.

This annual exodus has the same impetus all of Tom Crean's other annual exoduses have: someone must leave (or not show up) because Crean drastically oversigned. This year Indiana has zero seniors, a full roster, and two recruits. And they are still recruiting various players for the late period. To their credit, a lot of Indiana fans hate this.

Every coach is going to have some attrition from guys who don't work out. Few sign multiple guys in November knowing that this means someone on the current team is going to be forcibly ejected from the program as a result. And for what? For a ten seed because your incompetent self can't count or recruit a post player.

We poke at Tom Izzo around here because he's easy to poke at, but he is a legitimate coach and seemingly good dude; Crean is another level of detestable. For everybody's sake let's hope that buyout comes down enough to get rid of him soon. The Big Ten is ill-served by his presence at a basketball mecca.

I'm very disappointed in 61 of you. You guys are jerks.

should I quit blogging about Michigan and dedicate myself to UFRing episodes of "Coach"? RT for YES FAV for NO

— mgoblog (@mgoblog) March 27, 2015

Upon further review, there is not enough football in episodes of "Coach" to do this.

I guess this is official now? Or at least official-ish:

Michigan football: Legends jerseys are gone, helmet stickers are back. Imagine Bo and Canham would be pleased by both.

— John U. Bacon (@Johnubacon) March 27, 2015

247 and Rivals are confirming and I'm not sure this is a thing that gets a press release, so… done? Let's call it done.

I'd rather have the inverse but I'm not too bent out of shape about it. I like the clean look the decal-less helmets have and thought the legends jerseys were a good way to remind people that the Wisterts were great and Gerald Ford was an All-American. Hopefully they can do something for the retired numbers other than just put them back in mothballs.

Also semi-official? I can't remember if Wayne Lyons's transfer was already semi-official or has just become slightly more so, but the big news from Mike Zordich's press conference was Zordich accidentally letting the cat out of the bag about Lyons's imminent arrival. Except that Lyons himself said it in February and we already have a Hello post for him.

Nevermind then?

Spike was hurting. Spike Albrecht was not fully right last year:

Albrecht is wrestling with the decision whether to undergo off-season surgery on both of his ailing hips, procedures that would leave him rehabilitating for "probably four to five months, at least."

"That's a tough situation," Albrecht said. "I don't want to sit out, but I also don't want to go through another season like I went through this year, but if that's the only option and that's the best option, then I'll do it."

Apparently those surgeries have to be scheduled consecutively and involve—bleah—"shaving down an area of hip bone." A 4-5 month recovery period is likely, which would make him whole in August or September. Tough decision to weigh a lack of pain against whatever rustiness getting laid up like that would induce.

Meanwhile, Alejandro Zuniga evaluated Albrecht.

Gordon Bell, 1975. Via Dr. Sap:

Also Ufer calling a pretty spectacular Bell touchdown run against Purdue.

Etc.: Sauce Castillo. Sauce Castillo. Neeeerd baseball hits the Daily. On John Calipari. Tattoos ranked by how bad of an idea they are. Jack Miller's decision to quit football was about concussions a bit, unless it wasn't.

In defense of Tim Beckman?

via Bentley

Kelly Lytle's book, To Dad, From Kelly, is a reflection on his relationship with his late father, former Michigan All-American Rob Lytle. The following is an introduction highlighting Rob Lytle's bond with Bo, followed after the jump by an excerpt from the book, titled "Lytle Would Play." You can visit the author at www.kellylytle.com.

Introduction by Kelly Lytle:

It was the day before the Game of the Century between #1 Ohio State and #2 Michigan. I was 24 and working on Wall Street in lower Manhattan, and spent the morning with my attention fixed on my computer screen reading previews of the next day’s showdown. By late morning, I had read that Bo had collapsed and been rushed to the hospital, the prognosis grim. I searched for any detail I could find, ignoring the routine commotion of the trading floor. Then my phone rang.

"Kelly," Dad started, his voice soft and weak. "Kelly, I just lost a father." Silence.

"Kelly, I loved him," Dad finally said.

Lytle's playing career left him battling lifelong injuries, but true to form he wouldn't let that sideline him. [via http://kellylytle.com/]

My father and Bo met in 1971 when Dad was a high school All-American for Fremont Ross in Fremont, Ohio. At the time, college coaches around the country were promising Dad the world. Bear Bryant apparently once said: "Rob, how 'bout you come visit Alabama so one of our belles can show you some southern hospitality." And Woody Hayes claimed that he would run the wishbone offense so Archie Griffin and Dad could share carries. Bo, though, took a different approach.

"Rob," he said, "You’ll never be as great again to these coaches as you are right now. At Michigan, we have six running backs. You’ll be number seven if you come here. Whatever happens after that is up to you."

Dad eventually narrowed his college choice to Michigan and Ohio State. When Dad phoned Woody to inform him of his decision to attend Michigan, Woody simply said, “We’ll see about that.” Not long after, Dad found himself in his living room face-to-face with the Buckeye leader. “If you’re committing to Michigan, you better say it to my face,” Woody demanded. So he said it to his face. Bo's honest challenge had made its impression.

The next four years cemented the relationship between Dad and Bo. In Bo, Dad had a mentor who preached the team over the individual, and a coach whose sermons about modesty and determination weren’t just words but gospel. In Dad, Bo had a talented runner who believed in self-sacrifice, a star who played through pain so often that for years after in the Michigan training room hurt players would have to hear the words “Lytle would play.”

Michigan won 28 games from 1974-1976 and played in the Orange Bowl and Rose Bowl. In 1976, they shut out Ohio State 22-0 at the Horseshoe to win the Big Ten Championship. Dad ended his career as Michigan’s all-time leader in career rushing yards with 3,307 (he’s now 8th), won Big Ten MVP his senior season, and finished third in balloting for the 1976 Heisman Trophy. Still, I believe these accomplishments were secondary for both Bo and Dad.

Every conversation I’ve ever had with Dad’s Michigan teammates settles on one topic: that when Bo asked Dad to play fullback to bolster the offense, he willingly sacrificed carries, yards, and his body to better the team. For this, Bo often called Dad the “greatest teammate” he ever coached.

While growing up, Dad never mentioned his touchdowns and records or wins and losses. Instead, he preached the values of Michigan football. “Every day you either get better or you get worse, you never stay the same,” Dad would often say, usually punctuating it with a reminder that “nobody is ever as important as the team.” I often laughed away his comments as trite.

Now I can see them as the hallmarks of a man dedicated to placing others above himself. Playing football, especially from 1973-1977 at Michigan, shaped my father. These years strengthened his resolve. They fortified his sincerity. They wrecked his body. The game left him physically beaten and emotionally broken when injuries forced him to retire. He shouldered this pain the rest of his life.

Dad died on November 20, 2010, eight days after his 56th birthday, and three years and three days after he'd lost Bo. I lost my best friend and the man who most influenced me. To Dad, From Kelly is my attempt to remember my father through the lessons he taught me and the questions that went unasked and unanswered between us.

[After the jump, an excerpt from Kelly's book. Fair warning: it's emotional]