The 300-page lump of question marks that Michigan calls an independent investigation isn’t what got Steve Fisher fired. At best, the pricey, say-nothing report should be used as a doorstop rather than as an explanation for Fisher’s dismissal as Wolverines basketball coach.
Fisher is gone because new Athletic Director Tom Goss, hired from the private sector just five weeks ago, wanted him gone. Goss is a Michigan man, a football man, a Bo Schembechler man, a businessman. He didn’t like what he saw from the Fisher regime and so, with a tacit mandate from university President Lee Bollinger, he fired the guy, just as he would fire some poor assistant plant manager who goofed on quality control.
On the day Goss was hired, I sat in Fisher’s office at Michigan and listened to a proud, defiant, combative man who must have known his career as the Wolverines’ coach was in serious jeopardy. He was surrounded by mementos of a tenure that included an improbable national championship in 1989, a recruiting class known simply as “the Fab Five” and consecutive Final Four title-game appearances in 1992 and 1993.
On every wall or bookshelf was a keepsake. A photograph of Fisher and his team shooting free throws with George Bush and Dan Quayle during a 1989 visit to the White House. A photo with the Fab Five in more carefree days. And a photo of Fisher and his oldest son, Mark, taken presumably during that 1989 postseason joyride.
All of them precious moments, not that it mattered to the reform-minded, scandal-sensitive Goss and Bollinger.
Earlier that morning, Fisher had attended a news conference meant to introduce Goss as athletic director. It was standing room only, so Fisher found a small opening against a wood-paneled wall.
Goss didn’t know Fisher was in the audience. When asked about Fisher’s future at Michigan, Goss could do no better than to say he wanted to meet with the coach. There was no vote of confidence, no affirmation of support.
Fisher stood there against the wall–literally and figuratively–with a frozen grimace on his face. Reading between the lines of Goss’ administrative-speak, Fisher was doomed.
There were other indications that day. The great Schembechler, the man who smugly promoted Fisher from assistant to Bill Frieder’s successor in 1989, made it clear who should take the fall if Michigan’s image took a hit because of NCAA-related improprieties.
“The thing that you have to understand is that a coach is accountable for everything,” Schembechler said. He was never one to mince words.
Fisher said he didn’t do anything wrong. He said it nearly six weeks ago. He said it again last weekend at a poorly conceived “news conference” that featured a Fisher monologue, but no question-and-answer session. Afterward, as Fisher prepared to leave the room, he was met by his son, Mark, now a freshman at Michigan. Mark’s face was contorted in anguish and tears.
Ask his peers, ask his players, ask those who covered his teams on a regular basis and you are told that Fisher is an honorable man. But ask those people whose opinions help shape Michigan policy and you are told something else: that Fisher, for all his many fine qualities, was too naive for his own good.
“He trusts everybody,” one longtime Michigan power broker said, “and that’s what brought him down.”
Fisher trusted Ed Martin, the Michigan booster whose alleged actions prompted a seven-month investigation into the Wolverines’ program. Martin reportedly provided players with improper benefits and money, although–surprise!–Martin and the former players refused to cooperate with investigators.
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Fisher’s response: “I never thought that he was someone we needed to be concerned about.” Oops.
According to Michigan’s own analysis of the 300-page report, only three minor violations were uncovered. Three minor violations. That’s an hour’s work for some coaches. For Fisher, it was the dotted i in the word fired.
Image is everything at Michigan. Tarnish the image and people get cranky in Ann Arbor. Remember Gary Moeller? Fisher oversaw a program dirtied by allegations of wrongdoing, and when they lingered, the countdown to dismissal began.
Under the previous administration, Fisher might have kept his job. And had there not been so much turnover in the school’s compliance department, mistakes might have been minimized, allowing Fisher to weather the storm.
But Bollinger and Goss are newcomers to their jobs and they couldn’t bring themselves to support publicly a basketball program they privately questioned. So Fisher is gone, the second national championship coach in as many years to get fired by a suspicious administration.
Jim Harrick survived. So will Fisher. As for the truth about Michigan’s mess, don’t look for it in that 300-page paperweight.