Rest in peace Bo
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- BlindRef
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Rest in peace Bo
More info to come....
Come on big guy, one more day.
Come on big guy, one more day.
Last edited by BlindRef on Sat Nov 18, 2006 1:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Those who stay will be champions.
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Jesus...imagine ESPN using this for even more hype...I can see it now.
BREAKING NEWS
Detroit, Michigan - Bo Schembechler, former current #2 ranked Michigan Wolverine football coach, collapses due to a heart attack while trying to get a grasp on how HUGE this current #1 ranked Ohio State/#2 Michigan game is.
Unconfirmed reports were that Bo was last seen sitting on a bench, staring at the sky, murmuring these words "God, if you want me by your side on gameday to break this game down, take me now." As Schembechler collapsed to the ground, he said "Fuck, Woody's already there with ya! I see a light!"
Schembechler is in critical condition at St. Mary's Memorial Hospital in downtown Detroit. His last request is to have a television in his room by Saturday to see Zeus vs. Medusa in the Clash of the Titans Bowl.
Unconfirmed reports submitted by Jeremy Schapp
BREAKING NEWS
Detroit, Michigan - Bo Schembechler, former current #2 ranked Michigan Wolverine football coach, collapses due to a heart attack while trying to get a grasp on how HUGE this current #1 ranked Ohio State/#2 Michigan game is.
Unconfirmed reports were that Bo was last seen sitting on a bench, staring at the sky, murmuring these words "God, if you want me by your side on gameday to break this game down, take me now." As Schembechler collapsed to the ground, he said "Fuck, Woody's already there with ya! I see a light!"
Schembechler is in critical condition at St. Mary's Memorial Hospital in downtown Detroit. His last request is to have a television in his room by Saturday to see Zeus vs. Medusa in the Clash of the Titans Bowl.
Unconfirmed reports submitted by Jeremy Schapp
Goober McTuber wrote:One last post...
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http://sports.espn.go.com/ncf/news/story?id=2665857
It's cruel irony this happened the day before the monster game. Tomorrow afternoon should be very interesting...
It's cruel irony this happened the day before the monster game. Tomorrow afternoon should be very interesting...
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sad day for CFB.
going to be intense tomorrow, that's for sure.
going to be intense tomorrow, that's for sure.
""On a lonely planet spinning its way toward damnation amid the fear and despair of a broken human race, who is left to fight for all that is good and pure and gets you smashed for under a fiver? Yes, it's the surprising adventures of me, Sir Digby Chicken-Caesar!"
"
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RIP Bo.
You know ABC is going to turn the game into some treacly mess.
You know ABC is going to turn the game into some treacly mess.
"As democracy is perfected, the office of president represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron."
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Posts like this remind me of a great Charles Barkley quote:Vito Corleone wrote:Bo was a truely great man and a legendary coach, he will be missed.
"Let me say this on that. I don't go to funerals anymore. Because, every time you go to a funeral, even if the person's an asshole you have to sit there and listen to what a great guy they were. And, that's why I refuse to go to funerals anymore. THAT'S THE TRUTH! (He) can be the biggest asshole in the world, but when you go to someone's funeral, you say, 'I'm at the wrong funeral!'"
"Well, my wife assassinated my sexual identity, and my children are eating my dreams." -Louis CK
See You Next Wednesday wrote:RIP Bo.
You know ABC is going to turn the game into some treacly mess.
I any football fan will know and understand what kind of impact Bo's passing will have on the game but ESPN/ABC milk the hell out of this for the next 24 hours. It's cruel to say but those clowns love storylines like this.
I forget the exact year, but I remember Bo once saying, "I'll die before I see the day that a #1 Ohio State beats a #2 Michigan."
“My dentist, that’s another beauty, my dentist, you kiddin’ me. It cost me five thousand dollars to have all new teeth put in. Now he tells me I need braces!” —Rodney Dangerfield
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Trust me...if he ever said that, and it was quoted on TV, radio or newspaper, it will be plastered all over ESPN/ABC within minutes if it isn't already.L45B wrote:I forget the exact year, but I remember Bo once saying, "I'll die before I see the day that a #1 Ohio State beats a #2 Michigan."
Goober McTuber wrote:One last post...
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I’ll bet they’re making sig bets.The Seer wrote:Wow. Growing up is was Bo Vs. Woody.
Wonder what they're sayin to each other now....
Joe in PB wrote: Yeah I'm the dumbass
schmick, speaking about Larry Nassar's pubescent and prepubescent victims wrote: They couldn't even kick that doctors ass
Seems they rather just lay there, get fucked and play victim
- WolverineSteve
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The loss to the Michigan family cannot be overstated. Bo was an ambassador of not only football, but the University as well. He will be missed by anyone who ever donned the winged helmet, went to UM, or loves Wolverine Football. Bo meant so much to me, my words cannot convey my feelings at this time. The game takes on a different light for me tommorrow. I still want to win, but no loss of one football game could amount to the loss of Bo.
Go Blue.
RIP- Bo
Go Blue.
RIP- Bo
"Gentlemen, it is better to have died as a small boy than to fumble this football."
-John Heisman
"Any street urchin can shout applause in victory, but it takes character to stand fast in defeat. One is noise --- the other, loyalty." Fielding Yost
Go Blue!
-John Heisman
"Any street urchin can shout applause in victory, but it takes character to stand fast in defeat. One is noise --- the other, loyalty." Fielding Yost
Go Blue!
rack every word of this. the perfect eulogy.88 wrote:Bo was an Ohio boy who went bad.
Bo grew up in Barberton, which incidentally is where I will be leaving my car tonight on the way to the Mentor/Warren Harding state Division I Regional Final. He went to Miami in Oxford, Ohio and played one year for Coach Wayne W. Hayes. Bo then went to Ohio State and graduated with a masters degree in business. He later coached as an assistant to Hayes at Ohio State. He left Hayes to become the head coach at Miami in Oxford. After a couple of decent seasons, he totally fucked his life up.
Bo got sucked into the vortex of filth that is Ann Arbor (feel free to imagine a large turd swirling around in a toilet bowl -- it helps create the proper visual image). Bo spent a few seasons prowling the sidelines of the team that unabashedly stole Princeton's winged victory helmet design. He guided the losers to a few wins during his tenure (none were in bowl games, as I recall). Eventually, he became an old grandfatherly figure to an entire state of inbreds, and handed the reins to a complete drunk. Sad, but not that surprising, really.
Now Bo is dead. I'll tip a beer toward the sky tomorrow, nod, and then do my best never to think of his sorry ass again.
Rack the shit outta 88
Yesterday I was going through some old boxes in my garage and I came across Bo's autobio written with Mitch Albom. It was simply titled: "Bo." I bought for my father-in-law, who was a scUM fan back in 1989. Dad died 5 years ago so of course the book came back to me. Bo has been in the media lately with the coming of the Big Game and then I find his book from many years ago.
Today I brought the book out and I viewed a passage that dealt with Woody and Bo's relationship during the "10 Year War."
Yesterday I was going through some old boxes in my garage and I came across Bo's autobio written with Mitch Albom. It was simply titled: "Bo." I bought for my father-in-law, who was a scUM fan back in 1989. Dad died 5 years ago so of course the book came back to me. Bo has been in the media lately with the coming of the Big Game and then I find his book from many years ago.
Today I brought the book out and I viewed a passage that dealt with Woody and Bo's relationship during the "10 Year War."
Tough bastards back then. Right now Bo's watching game film with Woody. The pupil returns to the teacher.So great was our rivalry, that we rarely talked to each other for the entire decade. Before each game we'd meet at midfield and exchange a few pleasantries.
"How you doing, Woody?"
"Not bad, Bo. Yourself?"
"Aw, you know."
"Yeah."
"Umm-hmm."
"Well, OK. Good luck."
"Yeah. Good luck."
Each of us was searching for the slightest advantage. If that meant no conversation, so be it. I don't think Wood ever really forgave me for beating his "Team of the Century" and he relished every chance he got to take revenge.
And I relished every chance to do it again.
For ten years, we went after each other with every ounce of blood and spit, and when the final numbers were tallied Michigan had won five, Ohio four and there was one tie. But numbers hardly tell the story of those games. In fact, sometimes the scores were secondary to the performances.
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I am not going to rack 88, and while I like him as a person, you exemplify the problem with this rivalry. Not even for a second can you show some class and respect to the other institution. I lack the eloquence to properly express my feelings on this matter, but I am going to make my best effort.
I grew up in Ann Arbor, I could pronouce Schembechler before most other words. I spent every Saturday of my existance watching Michigan play football, and have lived and died with the team. I didn't always agree with Bo, he's a Republican which always pissed me off, and he fired Ernie Harwell which is unconscionable. However, Bo is Michigan, and Michigan is Bo. The success of this program and its current status is entirely due to the way Bo coached and the way Bo lived.
I am a life long Ann Arbor resident, and I live in a city that is crying. Bo was the patriarch of our family, a family of alum's, townies, students and friends. I have been broken up by this all day, and this game has completly changed in my eyes. I expect that now Michigan will lose, because teams usually lose these games.
As for Ohio State, I doubt that proper respect will be shown, the truck driving, tabacco chewing assholes will make bad jokes about Bo's death. There will be inappropriate signs and comments made, and i wouldn't be suprised to hear Boo's during the expected moment of silence.
Even the golden boy Tressel showed his repect to Bo without reservations or qualifications. If OSU fan truly appreciates this rivalry you'll shut up for one minute and show us some respect. This is bigger than the game, and its bigger than your irrational hatred of our university. It will always plague Buckeye fan that Michigan fan doesn't hate OSU as much as OSU hates Michigan, just like Bo never hated Woody as much as Woody hated Bo.
I respect OSU's football program, and that will end tomorrow if my fears of how your fans will react are true, and I will consider you and your institution no more of a equal than I consider Michigan State an equal.
I grew up in Ann Arbor, I could pronouce Schembechler before most other words. I spent every Saturday of my existance watching Michigan play football, and have lived and died with the team. I didn't always agree with Bo, he's a Republican which always pissed me off, and he fired Ernie Harwell which is unconscionable. However, Bo is Michigan, and Michigan is Bo. The success of this program and its current status is entirely due to the way Bo coached and the way Bo lived.
I am a life long Ann Arbor resident, and I live in a city that is crying. Bo was the patriarch of our family, a family of alum's, townies, students and friends. I have been broken up by this all day, and this game has completly changed in my eyes. I expect that now Michigan will lose, because teams usually lose these games.
As for Ohio State, I doubt that proper respect will be shown, the truck driving, tabacco chewing assholes will make bad jokes about Bo's death. There will be inappropriate signs and comments made, and i wouldn't be suprised to hear Boo's during the expected moment of silence.
Even the golden boy Tressel showed his repect to Bo without reservations or qualifications. If OSU fan truly appreciates this rivalry you'll shut up for one minute and show us some respect. This is bigger than the game, and its bigger than your irrational hatred of our university. It will always plague Buckeye fan that Michigan fan doesn't hate OSU as much as OSU hates Michigan, just like Bo never hated Woody as much as Woody hated Bo.
I respect OSU's football program, and that will end tomorrow if my fears of how your fans will react are true, and I will consider you and your institution no more of a equal than I consider Michigan State an equal.
Those who stay will be champions.
- the_ouskull
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Gotta disagree with Blind Ref about one thing...
I don't think OSU Fan in The Horseshoe tomorrow will show any lack of class during the moment of silence for Bo. I'd also be surprised if there were any inappropriate signs.
LSU Fan has pretty much cured me of believing in some of these urban myths about how ornery and classless these teams' fans really are.
Like BlindRef though, yeah, I'd be HIGHLY disappointed in OSU if these things should come to pass. I'd consider them to be little more than Goldtoof U North, in that case.
The fans, that is, not the players. No way in hell OSU's entire program won't show anything but the utmost in respect and dignity.
I don't think OSU Fan in The Horseshoe tomorrow will show any lack of class during the moment of silence for Bo. I'd also be surprised if there were any inappropriate signs.
LSU Fan has pretty much cured me of believing in some of these urban myths about how ornery and classless these teams' fans really are.
Like BlindRef though, yeah, I'd be HIGHLY disappointed in OSU if these things should come to pass. I'd consider them to be little more than Goldtoof U North, in that case.
The fans, that is, not the players. No way in hell OSU's entire program won't show anything but the utmost in respect and dignity.
Joe Satriani is a mime, right? - 88
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Show me your dicks. - trev
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I wish I could write this well, this is today's entry from the best Michigan Blog out there: mgoblog.blogspot.com
We didn't sleep too late
There was a fire in the yard
What do you do? I'm supposed to type. I do this. I'm here now and I have responsibility to put words here. But there are no words. I tap stuff out and erase. Everything longer than two words is crass. Now? How can it be now?
All of the trees were in light
They had no faces to show
The Michigan locker room is going to be a quiet before the game tomorrow. I envision players quietly going about their various preparations: donning pads. Taping wrists. Applying eye-black. Cinching and tying, little tasks that pass the time. In between their thoughts will flutter sidelong at what awaits outside. A few may analyze the enormity of it in their heads directly. Harris. Hart. Breaston. Most will fall into the routine that has taken them from game to game since they first put on a helmet, falling into the patterns that people use to navigate when their brains shut down in fear or alarm or panic. They will proceed down the grooves they've worn in their life, and when they emerge onto the field they will operate more on animal instinct than anything else.
I saw a sign in the sky
Seven swans, seven swans, seven swans
Sport as war may have grown trite; sport as war may be vaguely offensive with the nation vaguely at actual war. But what is left when you emerge into a maelstrom of hate under a gunmetal grey sky and meet an implacable mirror of yourself? Are we to compare it to canasta? Whist? Bridge? Knitting clubs? Michigan will battle Ohio State hand and foot. It will be vicious, maiming, disabling. The winner claims dominion. Sometimes what's trite is true. When the stakes elevate to this sort of level there's nothing else to compare it to.
I heard a voice in my mind
I will try, I will try, I will try
Sport as war, clean war, where the champions of Good meet the champions of Evil on a mutually agreed battleground. According to the established rules, after three hours one is defeated utterly. The other is triumphant. The grey stops when the clouds do. We have taken the horror of war and stripped it down to its beating, thrilling heart. The term "Football Armageddon" is only partly in jest. Victory here is eternal. In 2006, Michigan beat Ohio State. Ohio State beat Michigan. Every year this is "The Game." This is The Game of Games.
We saw the dragon move down
My father burned into coal
My mother saw it from far
She took her purse to the bed
I saw a sign in the sky
Seven horns, seven horns, seven horns
I heard a voice in my mind
I am Lord, I am Lord, I am Lord
And then you try to figure out why the stakes are so high in the first place. Why this entire week you haven't been able to concentrate on anything by war by proxy. Fake war by proxy. Meaningless war by proxy. You will suffer humiliation when the team from my area defeats the team from your area. It's ridiculous. Intelligent people do not spend a goodly swath of their life pouring emotion and precious time into a contest that affects no one and changes nothing except some inky scribbles in media guides.
You wonder why. It occurs that at some point the Michigan program acquired the traits you hold dear -- loyalty, honesty, tradition, victory. And you wonder: if you were a different person who valued other things would you care so much? It occurs that at some point the Michigan program acquired other traits you share but do not hold particularly dear -- cantankerousness, stubbornness, an inability to suffer fools gladly. And you wonder: do I like Michigan because of the way I am, or am I the way I am because I like Michigan?
The answer seems clear.
Now the man who took that rudderless program and gave it -- gave you -- all the things you like and don't like is dead. In 1969, it all started with a victory over #1 Ohio State.
He will take you
At some point, as David Harris reclines -- head against a wall, fixing his bayonet, passing the time -- the faint ratatat of drums will filter through the concrete, beating out a march. Harris will rise from his seat, take up his helmet, and stride forward. The future holds its breath for three hours.
If you run, he will chase you
There's only one thing left. Play. Fight. Win. Please.
We didn't sleep too late
There was a fire in the yard
What do you do? I'm supposed to type. I do this. I'm here now and I have responsibility to put words here. But there are no words. I tap stuff out and erase. Everything longer than two words is crass. Now? How can it be now?
All of the trees were in light
They had no faces to show
The Michigan locker room is going to be a quiet before the game tomorrow. I envision players quietly going about their various preparations: donning pads. Taping wrists. Applying eye-black. Cinching and tying, little tasks that pass the time. In between their thoughts will flutter sidelong at what awaits outside. A few may analyze the enormity of it in their heads directly. Harris. Hart. Breaston. Most will fall into the routine that has taken them from game to game since they first put on a helmet, falling into the patterns that people use to navigate when their brains shut down in fear or alarm or panic. They will proceed down the grooves they've worn in their life, and when they emerge onto the field they will operate more on animal instinct than anything else.
I saw a sign in the sky
Seven swans, seven swans, seven swans
Sport as war may have grown trite; sport as war may be vaguely offensive with the nation vaguely at actual war. But what is left when you emerge into a maelstrom of hate under a gunmetal grey sky and meet an implacable mirror of yourself? Are we to compare it to canasta? Whist? Bridge? Knitting clubs? Michigan will battle Ohio State hand and foot. It will be vicious, maiming, disabling. The winner claims dominion. Sometimes what's trite is true. When the stakes elevate to this sort of level there's nothing else to compare it to.
I heard a voice in my mind
I will try, I will try, I will try
Sport as war, clean war, where the champions of Good meet the champions of Evil on a mutually agreed battleground. According to the established rules, after three hours one is defeated utterly. The other is triumphant. The grey stops when the clouds do. We have taken the horror of war and stripped it down to its beating, thrilling heart. The term "Football Armageddon" is only partly in jest. Victory here is eternal. In 2006, Michigan beat Ohio State. Ohio State beat Michigan. Every year this is "The Game." This is The Game of Games.
We saw the dragon move down
My father burned into coal
My mother saw it from far
She took her purse to the bed
I saw a sign in the sky
Seven horns, seven horns, seven horns
I heard a voice in my mind
I am Lord, I am Lord, I am Lord
And then you try to figure out why the stakes are so high in the first place. Why this entire week you haven't been able to concentrate on anything by war by proxy. Fake war by proxy. Meaningless war by proxy. You will suffer humiliation when the team from my area defeats the team from your area. It's ridiculous. Intelligent people do not spend a goodly swath of their life pouring emotion and precious time into a contest that affects no one and changes nothing except some inky scribbles in media guides.
You wonder why. It occurs that at some point the Michigan program acquired the traits you hold dear -- loyalty, honesty, tradition, victory. And you wonder: if you were a different person who valued other things would you care so much? It occurs that at some point the Michigan program acquired other traits you share but do not hold particularly dear -- cantankerousness, stubbornness, an inability to suffer fools gladly. And you wonder: do I like Michigan because of the way I am, or am I the way I am because I like Michigan?
The answer seems clear.
Now the man who took that rudderless program and gave it -- gave you -- all the things you like and don't like is dead. In 1969, it all started with a victory over #1 Ohio State.
He will take you
At some point, as David Harris reclines -- head against a wall, fixing his bayonet, passing the time -- the faint ratatat of drums will filter through the concrete, beating out a march. Harris will rise from his seat, take up his helmet, and stride forward. The future holds its breath for three hours.
If you run, he will chase you
There's only one thing left. Play. Fight. Win. Please.
Those who stay will be champions.