BOWLING GREEN
Friday, September 15, 2023 -- Millwood Village, Westland, MI
Through scattered, dime-sized slits in the tree canopy, collonades of sunlight beam down upon the faded wooden deck at my parent’s house. I love this spot. It’s even quieter than I remember on this carefree Friday afternoon. Hidden above the brilliant green canopy is a partly cloudy, cornflower blue sky across which big fat animal clouds move slowly, if at all. Gus, just back from a walk with Dad, wanders out to the deck from the opened screen door. He sniffs the air, licks his butt, then, like an overly-dependent toddler, retreats inside to look for Mom, who is taking a quick nap. Some chipmunk cousins dash in and out of the late Mr. Reshke's woodpile in the backyard next door. Good old Mr. Reschke. A small cross memorializes him near the treeline; seeing it, I remember the cowboy he was at heart and wonder how many times he must have held his tongue while we used his yard as an extension of our backyard football field sans permission. Unlike other neighbors – some who, in their limitless suburban boredom, made it their life’s mission to tear down our fort, going so far as to take it up with the board members of the subdivision – Mr. Reschke never complained; he just smiled, said hello, smoked his cigarettes, carved his woodwork sculptures, and watched our play with a firm commitment to letting kids be kids. From a single garden pole in our backyard hang three large buckets of flowers. Each of these flower buckets contains 60-70 tightly bundled flowers. One holds purple flowers; one pale yellow flowers; and the lowest on the pole holds flowers of a a more vibrant yellow color with brown fringes, such that it looked like they belonged at at a Wyoming Cowboys football game on senior night. Shouts and calls of high school athletes echo from the Lutheran High School's athletic grounds to the east, an expansive field separated from Millwood by a narrow strip of woods and nothing more, prompting me to wonder if there might be a football game tonight. Homecoming game? Dad and I used to walk to it every year when I was little, drawn by the portable flood lights they brought in just for that one night game a year.
My mug of Wild Mountain Blueberry coffee sits on a glass table next to a green bottle of Off spray and a Citronella Plant. I rock in my deck chair, gazing out to the precise spot in the woods where the Millwood boys and I built "the fort." Only a few of the leaves on the maples have started shading red -- a pinkish kind of candy-apple red. I actually walk out to the edge of the woods, using a little stepping stone path Mom set out, wondering if I might rediscover the promise of the 1990's by crossing the threshold into the woods. About ten feet in, I drag my shoe over some dead leaves and uncover some old stones I'm sure are relics from the fort; we treasured those stones, as well as all the other junk we kept hidden in the fort, a cache that included hockey cards, a scroll of wheatgrass, a skunk's skull, an arrowhead, pieces of lead and metal unearthed from the soil, and a sister's bracelet that we deemed spoils of war. It's good to be home, good for the soul.
Never drive during rush hour if you can avoid it. That's a personal mantra. I waited until traditional rush hour faded, say 6:30ish, to drive to Frank's for the traditional cousin visit I make upon returning to Michigan. From Westland, it's a thirty-minute drive to the countryside of Wolverine Lake. I let myself in through the garage and stumbled upon Ainsley watching Bluey and playing solo in her little fenced-in play space, basketball hoop and ball pit included. Apparently Frank failed to give Mariah the memo because she jumped when she saw me in the living room. The two of us shared a joint in the garage shortly thereafter, then Frank set me up with my frisbee of adderall powder. I started right in on the pile and fired up the Nintendo 64 in Frank's office (my guest room) for a game of Ken Griffey Jr. Baseball. Frank and I have a season going with the Seattle Mariners, who are currently sitting at 59-0 in the standings; Griffey leads the league with 40 dingers. Setting perhaps my all-time record(?), I scored 72 runs total in the game, my most in a long time at the very least. Then I drove back home to my parents' house around midnight. Stayed up late combing through old Northville Observer records for notes on escapees from the Northville Regional Psychiatric Hospital -- research for my second novel. At one point in the 80's, Northville Regional Psychiatric Hospital averaged two escapes per day. This resulted in many terrified locals reporting disturbing encounters with frothy-mouthed figures in white gowns.
Saturday, September 16, 2023 -- Grand Rapids, MI, The Loft at Luna
Though I barely slept, I went downstairs to the kitchen around 8:00 a.m. to make coffee and catch College Football Gameday on ESPN. The Gameday crew broadcast live from Boulder, Colorado one week after FOX's Big Noon Kickoff Crew hosted their show there, pushing Coach Prime-fueled Colorado Buffalo mania to its zenith. Mom and I watched for a bit before she left to make a trip to Meijer for chili ingredients. She makes chili every Michigan game day, and it felt good to be home and experience that familiar process. Dad slept in. I finally showered around noon, packed my bag for Grand Rapids, where I had to be at Al's wedding Saturday evening, and got on the road by 1:15. Michigan State Football hosted the Huskies of Washington at 5:00, so I hit quite a bit of traffic around Lansing, but it wasn't a terrible drive.
Arrived at Al and Austin's empty house around 3:30 in the afternoon, which left me only an hour to get ready for the wedding. Al left me a key in the mailbox. Being there brought back fond memories of bonfires, Yahtzee, social gatherings, and sleepovers. Much has changed since I moved to Grand Rapids three years ago this very month, including my state of residence. Initially, I had moved there to be close to Al, whom I met freshman year of college when we lived directly across the hall from each other in Mary Markley. He'd recently returned to Grand Rapids, his hometown, from a stint abroad in Africa, and I was recently single, thinking we’d be starting fresh together. Also, I was restless as always. My move was ill-timed, however, for Al met the bride-to-be right around the same time. The possibility of living with Al turned into Al moving in with Austin. It made me feel like the last outlaw from college but in a somber way. Reflecting on all this, I dressed in the guest bedroom, putting on my navy slacks, suede shoes, white button-down shirt sans tie, and a black sports coat. I left at 4:30, but downtown Grand Rapids was packed for one or more events -- one appeared to be an out-of-season Griffins game? -- causing me considerable distress as I tried to find parking.
In truth, I felt nervous. I hadn't seen most of the BOX guys, my roommates from college, in several years, some not since I had quit drinking. What if I was the only one who'd aged? Maybe they had all stayed really tight while I was quitting drinking, embracing hermitude, chasing Lake Superior sunsets, and turning westward as I searched for purpose and meaning. Moreover, I was going stag to a wedding, a veritable trigger for my anxiety. To my relief, I ran into the B's, next-door-neighbors to Al and Austin, outside the wedding venue and walked in with them. Found Jello inside and talked sports with him for a bit, then Marilyn, Ross, Paul, Craig, Zola. Indeed, most of them had aged. Wilder still, most were parents. Marilyn showed me photos of her and Ross' son, Henry. Apparently, Paul has more than one! Michigan State got throttled at home by Washington and Michael Penix Jr., giving us something to talk about.
Al's brother Nick, who bought us booze our freshman year in college, officiated the five-minute ceremony. No groomsman, no bridal party; very informal affair, the way I'd have it. The venue served tacos for dinner afterward, then dimmed the lights and turned up the music. To my delight, Paul set up his phone at our wedding table so that it displayed the Michigan game. I decided to post up there most of the night. In front of the game was where I wanted to be anyway, but it also provided a place to hide from socialization. Craig set his phone up the same way for multiple, albeit minuscule, viewing angles.
Once upon a time Al and I both would have scoffed at the notion of a wedding on the night of a Michigan Football game, but I think we've come a long way from those days. Perhaps a jaded factor played into that, or a heartbreak factor. Of course, this game was against Bowling Green, too, a cupcake opponent by any standard. The betting lines favored the Wolverines by a whopping 40.5 points. As such, it was not difficult to prioritize a best friend's wedding over a football game. At this point, Paul, Ross, and Al appeared to be getting drunk off beer.
Bowling Green caused more than one double-take at the wedding, especially during the first half. JJ McCarthy played the worst game of his career at Michigan. At times he appeared to throw the ball directly to Bowling Green's defensive backs. "There goes the Heisman," Jello scoffed. That turned into, "Are we really trying to lose this game?" and "This would really ruin Al's wedding night, wouldn't it?" Indeed an upset of this magnitude would taint Al's wedding night but it wouldn't surprise me, as Al and I have a terrible track record watching games together, our heart-wrenching college years and thereafter included. Many times had we pondered the notion that we were cursed or targets of some karmic punishment doled out for misdeeds in our previous lives. We attended App State as students, then Oregon the next Saturday; we went to every home game during the 3-8 2008 season, though we blacked out at most of the tailgates; we went to Rich Rod's last game together, a blowout in Jacksonville on New Year's Day (at least for a little while, as Al got kicked out for inebriation before half, at which point the game was already over anyways, so I followed him out); we endured Brady Hoke and watched more than a few losses together during his failed regime; I drove to Grand Rapids to watch Harbaugh's first game with Al, a tough loss to Utah, and again for the 2021 College Football Playoff Semifinal, a doomed date with eventual national champion Georgia. There were some victories in there, including the magical 2022 Ohio State road game when Al drove to Wolverine Lake to watch with Frank and me, but the scales remained lopsided. We deserved a medal for the horror we'd seen together.
Apprehension started from the get-go. On the first play of the game, Falcons quarterback Camden Orth completed a beautiful pass to fellow Florida native (why Bowling Green for these guys?) Odieu Hiliare for 30 yards; initially ruled an incompletion, video review properly affirmed the catch. Nonetheless, it proved fruitless, for Michigan's defense regrouped and forced a punt on the next set of downs. Michigan's first offensive drive went so well that I thought I could stow away the apprehension for the rest of the night and enjoy the festivities. Not to be outdone by Hiliare's theatric catch, Blake Corum got the ball on Michigan's first play and ran 54 yards before being brought down at the Falcon 23-yard line. Edwards ran for 11 yards on the next play, then JJ scrambled for 8 to the 4-yard line, putting them in Corum smashmouth range. Sure enough, Corum scored on the next play up the middle. The drive lasted only four plays, went 76 yards, and included zero pass attempts.
Things got hairy after that, though. Michigan's defense forced a three-and-out and the offense got to start their drive at the BGSU 43-yard line. This seemed like a golden opportunity to pad that lead. JJ marched the team all the way to the 5 before he threw his first interception of the season. The pick resulted in a touchback. The defender read JJ's eyes the whole play. Bowling Green then proceeded to show their mettle, driving the ball the length of the field with a 12-play drive that took up more than five minutes of game clock and resulted in a field goal that cut Michigan's lead to 4. On the ensuing kickoff, Max Bredeson fielded the ball on a short kick, took a big hit, and coughed it up, giving the Falcons the ball back and a short field to work with to boot. They got another chip shot field goal out of it, making what was supposed to be a tune-up a 1-point game midway through the second quarter.
Michigan was not done gift-wrapping turnovers. In fact, they turned it over again on their next possession. After driving to the Bowling Green 38-yard line, JJ threw a bomb intended for Cornelius Johnson at the goal line. Badly underthrown, the ball landed right in the arms of Falcons defender Jordan Oladokun. What the hell, JJ?
Fortunately, Jesse Minter and the Michigan defense had more or less figured out Bowling Green's offense, forcing repeated three-and-outs and putting out starting quarterback Camden Orth. Purdue transfer Hayden Timosciek replaced Orth following McCarthy's second pick but provided little spark. Under Timosciek, six of BGSU's next nine drives lasted four plays or fewer, with three of those drives resulting in turnovers.
With the Falcons offense unable to stay on the field, Michigan took advantage of a tired BGSU defense on the next drive. Acting head coach Sherrone Moore called three straight Corum runs to start the possession, but showed his faith in JJ by letting him air it out thereafter. On 1st and 10 from the Michigan 45, McCarthy got rancher Colston Loveland involved with a 22-yard throw and catch, setting up another 1st down at the BGSU 33-yard line. From there, JJ wound up and delivered a great ball to Roman Wilson for a touchdown, already their sixth touchdown hookup of the season. At Michigan Stadium, the lights flickered maize and blue, then off and on in a display I'd never seen before. Usually blue-haired when it comes to its traditions, the light show celebration seemed so strange it prompted me to ask those watching at the table, "Have we ever had these flickering lights before?" In reply, Craig stated that we had used them once last year for a night game, but conceded that the display was mostly new and particularly progressive for Michigan. I kind of liked them. Turn up the Big House; long overdue. Despite three turnovers, Michigan led 14-6 going into halftime. I utilized the break to hit the restroom, the dance floor, and the bar for Coca-Cola (no coffee at the wedding). I mingled a bit; probably popped a gummy or two.
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"I think the wedding photographer captured you and Ross at the exact moment JJ threw one of his interceptions" - the groom
The wedding’s collective BAC rose steadily as the second half got underway. The idea was to put the Falcons to bed in the second half. Getting the ball to start the second half, JJ and the Michigan offense fell short of calming the fanbase's collective anxiety, going three and out and ostensibly giving Bowling Green a gift-wrapped opportunity to make it a game, something we seemed committed to doing throughout the game. Rather ungratefully, Bowling Green refused the gift. On first down, Hayden Timosciek dropped back to pass and, feeling pressure, made an ill-advised throw that plopped into the paws of Michigan big man Kris Jenkins. The three-hundred-pound senior from Maryland rumbled toward the endzone before finally being brought down two yards short. The Big House, sensing a momentum change finally, erupted. First and goal from the two called for smashmouth Corum again. He had to fight for it this time, but Corum got the touchdown, prompting the flickering lights again. Michigan went up 21-6, giving us some breathing room.
After that, Michigan's defense controlled the game. Without starter Camden Orth the Falcons simply couldn't move the ball. Their second half possessions resulted in two turnovers, three punts, and one missed field goal, rendering Michigan's offensive struggles moot. Midway through the third JJ threw a fifty-yard touchdown to Cornelius Johnson that put the game out of reach at 31-6. That gave JJ something to add to his highlight real, perhaps, but his third interception of the game, this one in the dying seconds of the third quarter, cemented this one as the worst performance of his college career. Michigan escaped with a 31-6 victory. On one hand, a win is a win no matter how ugly, but on the other hand, the game tempered expectations regarding Michigan's long-term objectives.
Despite my anxiety, I had fun at the wedding. It was really good to see the old college gang. I had almost forgotten how close we all were once, living together in that filthy house. In his speech, Al's dad Steve gave the BOX table a shout-out and alluded to his drunken behavior at our football tailgates the year he went through a divorce, giving us all a good chuckle. The BOX guys all convened on the dance floor for the final stretch of songs. With gusto the inebriated groom sang "Sweet Tummy Sticks," a favorite from those college tailgates, to end the night. Ross and I laughed and laughed.
It sounded like they planned to take the party to the bars when the event ended. I was exhausted so I drove back to Al's at that point. When I got there I turned on the TV to find the game of the night just underway, Colorado State at Colorado. The Rocky Mountain Showdown, an irrelevant game for years, took on the feeling of a big game with heightened animosity as a result of CSU head coach Mike Norvell throwing shade at Coach Prime days before the game. Taking a shot at Deion, Norvell said, "When I talk to grown-ups, I take my hat and glasses off. That's what my mother taught me."
Maybe Norvell had a plan. His team came out ready for a fight. The Rams played with malignant intent all night, and in my evaluation, the vitriol elevated their play and kept the game close, though it would cost them penalty yards more than once. The game wasn't supposed to be close; the spread favored Colorado by a whopping 23.5 points. Yet the teams looked evenly matched. Both started fast, scoring two touchdowns in the first quarter apiece before things slowed down in the second quarter. In a shocker of a score, the underdogs took a 21-14 lead into halftime. It was about midnight. I put on a jacket and went out to smoke a joint on Al and Austin's front porch.
A wild fourth quarter followed a scoreless third. Down 11 points with 11 minutes left, Colorado staged a furious rally that culminated in a 46-yard pass from Shedeur Sanders to Jimmy Horn Jr. The Buffs got the two-point conversion to force overtime, then won it in double overtime to remain undefeated, the darlings of the college football world. The game ended around two o'clock in the morning.
