Without a photo ID and a body-cavity search, it is impossible to tell who is the bully in the Rose Bowl and who is about to lose his lunch money because, ahem, Michigan is one of the two teams.
It should be Michigan. Ranked No. 1. More than a touchdown favorite. Heisman certified. Hall of Fame name at quarterback. Toughest defense in the nation. Best of the Big Ten.
Yes, Michigan. Except . . .
Depending on Michigan to win the Rose Bowl is like expecting change back from a teenager.
Michigan is to the Rose Bowl what linoleum is to a basilica. Not only is it out of place, it’ll never cover.
Two words. Bo and Schembechler. Ten Rose Bowls. Two victories.
Michigan doesn’t make New Year’s resolutions, it makes New Year’s apologies.
And Michigan never learns. Uptight. Edgy. Tense. Secretive. Like always. Like Northwestern was a couple of years ago. Like Ohio State always is. Like all Big Ten teams are when they get here.
More Top Picks Best Whirlpool Tubs
A half-dozen times undefeated Big Ten teams have come to the Rose Bowl ranked No. 1 and lost. Another half-dozen times Big Ten teams could have won national titles if they had won the Rose Bowl, but lost.
The Big Ten has not had a national champion since 1968. Michigan has not won a national title in 50 years. It is a Midwest legacy that can suck the fun right out of the holidays.
“We’re trying to stay focused,” said Michigan coach Lloyd Carr. “We’re here to play a football game. We can’t get caught up in the side issues.
“If we let ourselves get sidetracked, it’s a detriment to our ability to perform well.”
Having a good time yet, Wolverines?
“That will come later,” said Heisman winner Charles Woodson. “This is a business trip.”
Shhh, don’t tell Washington State. Don’t tell Ol’ Wazoo, as they don’t mind being called, hicks from the sticks who showed up in a pickup truck. That is the Washington State coach’s image, not mine.
Mike Price has spent the week poor-mouthing his bunch, trying to sucker poor Michigan into thinking they’re playing the Great Falls Jaycees, which they are, in a way, because that is where quarterback Ryan Leaf is from.
While Woodson is grimly suffering inquiries into his unique status as the first defender to win the Heisman, Leaf is dashing from microphone to mini-cam.
“Well,” Leaf said, “I am a broadcast major.”
If Leaf isn’t schmoozing the Rose Bowl queen at the Hard Rock Cafe in Hollywood, he is emceeing a pep rally at the boosters’ hotel in Century City, playing to his beet-shirted faithful as part evangelist, part snake-oil peddler and part game-show host.
“Welcome to Pasadena!” Leaf yelled. “We’re glad you came. Ain’t this great?!”
Hey, when you haven’t been to the Rose Bowl in 67 years, wherever you park your pickup is Pasadena.
Michigan closed its practices. Washington State opened its practices to its fans, thanked the media for coming and wished for extra tickets.
“I’d like to ask the Rose Bowl committee if we come back,” Price said, “to enlarge the stadium by about 300,000.”
Price is the guy who, before a game with USC, had a student dress up as the Trojans mascot and ride around the practice field on a horse. Price then shot him with a water pistol.
This week Carr scheduled his Michigan team for a daily mandatory nap. The point is, if Ol’ Wazoo was any looser, it would need a good tuckpointing just to stand up.
And if Big Blue were any tighter, you couldn’t pry their, uh, jaws open with a crowbar.
“We’re America’s team,” Price said. “Doesn’t America love the underdog? We’re the ultimate underdog. We’re the Rodney Dangerfield of college football. We don’t get any respect. Everybody outside of Michigan is pulling for us.”
Not me. I’ll take Michigan. I feel like such a fool.