It was a blustery November morning in late 1969. The snow from the day before was still mounded along the street sides. In other words it was a typical football Saturday at the University of Michigan. The Rose Bowl was at stake – an unusual occurrence for Michigan football in recent years. Yet, it had been a reasonably successful season with new coach, Bo Schembechler at the helm.
The pundits declared that only an NFL team could possibly beat the Ohio State Buckeyes that year. The OSU team, fans, and alumni had all but finalized their reservations in Pasadena. They had no doubt about the outcome of the final game of the season in one of the bitterest rivalries in college football.
After lunch at the Martha Cook Building, I bundled myself into as many layers as my winter jacket would accommodate and put on my boots. The cold walk to the stadium was shared by many – all of us with dreams of upset spinning in our heads.
While the snow had been cleared from the field, the benches and stands were still covered with the fluffy white stuff making for a very cold seat indeed. However, that would not matter much since I don’t think that anyone in the entire stadium sat for more than 15 minutes during the afternoon.
The record crowd of 103,588 was in a joyous uproar when the teams retired at half time with Michigan ahead of Ohio State by a score of 24 – 12. While neither team scored another point, no one left the stadium until the final gun sounded. Those most optimistic of fans showered the field with roses. While Michigan would have gone to the Rose Bowl regardless of the outcome, the team was playing for a conference championship, as well as to avenge the humiliation of 1968 when the Wolverines had lost in Columbus by a score of 50-14.
With boots leaking icy water through my socks to my feet, I left the stadium on a high just like most of the other attendees. In fact, you would have thought that the entire crowd had played the game such was the feeling of holiday in the air.
At lunch on the next day in the formal dining room of the Martha Cook Building where the afternoon meal always ended with the women singing The Yellow & Blue, the alma mater, the songstress led the assembled crowd in singing The Victors. Mrs. Quayle, headmistress, did her best to keep shock from her face at the astonishing breach of protocol. However, at the end of the fight song, a small smile cracked her very proper face. Along with the game, it was a day to remember.
