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<UID>
8901010271
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
890102
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Monday, January 02, 1989
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1D
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo MANNY CRISOSTOMO
</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1989, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
ROSE BOWL SCRIPT PITS STUDENT AGAINST TEACHER
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
NEWPORT BEACH, Calif. --  A great thinker once said: "To know a man, you
must walk a mile in his shoes." Or, barring that, you must at least learn his
bathroom habits.

  Well. That's the way  it worked for Larry Smith:

  "It was back at Miami of Ohio, 1967. Bo Schembechler was head coach and we
were his assistants. We were all living in Bo's house -- he was a bachelor
then -- and there  was only one bathroom. Of course, since he was head coach,
he got priority in using it.
  "He went in every morning at 7 o'clock. Never failed. The rest of us
worked around him. You could get up at  some ungodly hour, like 5:30, and have
the bathroom to yourself, or you could wait until he was done at about 7:30
and use it then.
  "Of course, he expected you at football practice by 8 o'clock  sharp."
  He laughs.
  "So you learned to move pretty fast in there."
  Hollywood loves the theme of student facing teacher. There was Cruise
against Newman in "The Color of Money." Luke Skywalker  battling father Darth
Vader in "Revenge of The Jedi." It is good theater, a warfare of emotion,
respect mixed with jealousy, intimidation dashed with fear. Age, youth,
wisdom, hunger.
  So why not?  Today, in the tinseltown glory of the  Rose Bowl, we have
Southern Cal versus Michigan.
  Smith vs. Schembechler.
  The Battle For The Bathroom, Part II.
  Well, after all, Schembechler  is approaching 60. You stick around
football as long as he has, you are bound to see your shadow come back on
itself. Bo is no stranger to the horseshoe of time; he grew up under Woody
Hayes, then, for years, battled Hayes in the Michigan-Ohio State rivalry.
  And now Bo is the champ, and Smith is the challenger. It has been 16
years since they worked together, and yet that is misleading, for those  were
not ordinary times. There was something raw and wonderful about college
football at Miami of Ohio and Michigan in those days, a feeling of birth, of
hunger, the kind of ground-floor desire that  means smoky rooms at midnight,
empty pizza boxes, the projector humming late and long. Everyone was on the
rise, no one more so than Schembechler, a four-star general in cleats. He was
the leader. And those who were with him knew they had grabbed onto a
hurricane.
  You were almost giddy with football in those days. "We practiced all day,
came home, watched film, ate, and watched some more," Smith  recalls. "That's
the way Bo wanted it. And we did whatever he said."
  Of course there were rewards. The Miami of Ohio team was successful, and
when Schembechler was offered the head coaching job  at Michigan, he took most
of his staff with him. Smith had coached the defensive ends for Schembechler
in Ohio. In Ann Arbor, he oversaw the offensive line, as near to
Schembechler's heart as his arteries.
  And speaking of heart, yes, Smith was there for the very first
Schembechler Rose Bowl, 1970, the one Bo missed because he suffered a heart
attack the morning of the game. "We had to tell the team,"  says Smith. "That
was the hardest part. We all gathered together for the pre-game meal, and we
decided to wait until after they were done eating. But it was obvious
something was wrong. I mean, this  was the biggest game of the year and Bo
wasn't in the room? They knew something was up. So finally we just stood up
and said, 'Guys, Coach had a heart attack.'
  "And then we had to go play the game."
  You don't forget memories like that. You don't forget the weeks that
followed, when you took care of Bo's kids, moving into his house in Ann Arbor,
making the boys peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  
  You don't forget the time you scouted the Ohio State Buckeyes,  then
considered the greatest team of the decade, and a guy asked you if the
Wolverines  could beat them and you said yeah, they could,  and it turned out
the guy was from The New York Times, and a big story came out, and
Schembechler called you in and screamed his head off and said you were fired
if the Wolverines didn't win that game,  which, thank the Lord, they did.
  You don't forget how your wife, Cheryl, introduced Bo to his soon-to-be
wife, Millie, a blind date set up with a phone call. You don't forget when Bo
offered you  a spot on the Michigan coaching staff, and you don't forget how
he pleaded with you not to leave Michigan when an opportunity came up in
Arizona.
  You don't forget the screaming, the temper tantrums,  the unexpected pat
on the back, the tears, the late night jokes, the refrigerator that was empty,
the bus rides, the sidelines. And you don't forget the bathroom.
  You don't forget, and yet you can't  allow yourself to remember, not
fondly, not now, because the guy who gave you all that, the guy you yourself
call "the No. 1 man in college football, easily, bar none, he's a legend along
with Bear Bryant  and Woody Hayes," will be across the field today. And if you
allow all that he means to you to creep into your brain, well, you might as
well hand over the whistle to someone else.
  "It's not an  easy thing to do, to coach against Bo," Smith admits. "But
it's exciting as well. One thing he wanted from all of us was to be
competitive. We are. When we step out there, I want to win, make no mistake
about that. I'm not intimidated by him at all."
  Why should he be? He has  been a head coach for a long time now. And he
has history on his side, right? After all, Schembechler's teams have  won
only once in eight tries at this Rose Bowl. The Pac-10 champion traditionally
has the bigger, stronger, faster players, and today will be no exception.
  Still, Smith, 49,  a tall man with a full  head of pepper- colored hair --
he looks almost too scholarly for football, like a professor, or a
cardiologist -- cannot yet lay claim to Pac-10 supremacy. He is  in only his
second year at USC, after seven years as head coach at  Arizona. Last season
his Trojans made the Rose Bowl, only to lose to Michigan State.
  So what we have here are two head coaches who have little luck in this New
Year's  tradition. Who has the advantage?
  "If you ask me," Schembechler said last  week, "it may be Larry. I
remember when I was coaching against Woody, I always studied him harder than I
think he studied  me. I had the extra incentive. It may be that way for Larry
now."
  Smith, when told of the comments, broke  out into laughter. "He told you
that? Ha. Fat chance. That's so like him, trying to shift  the advantage. I'm
never going to have an edge on him. He's putting you on."
  So be it. The teacher and the student, on equal footing now, across the
grass from each other, surrounded by their own armies and their own memories.
The tendency is to turn this into a major subplot, and of course, that's not
fair. These are still two football teams preparing for each other, not two
coaches. After all,  Bo doesn't have to tackle Smith at any point during the
game.
  Still, the mind games abound. The other day at a dual press conference,
Schembechler was a few minutes late, so Smith left the podium  and commenced
with one-on-one TV interviews in a back room. In the meantime, Schembechler
showed up. He took his seat at the podium, waited for Smith to return, and,
when he did, glanced at his watch  and said, "Well. It's about time you showed
up."
  Walk a mile in his shoes. Get to know the man. There is something nice
about the symmetry of this game, something that says tradition, patience and
hard work all have a place in the game. And so does memory.
  Of course, should Smith win today, he will not be counting on a smiling
Schembechler patting him on the back.
  Then again, if his  players want to throw him in the showers, at least he
won't have to wait until the bathroom is free.
TEACHER AND PUPIL 
Here's how Bo Schembechler's record matches up against that of his former
assistant,  Southern Cal coach Larry Smith:
     SCHEMBECHLER  SMITH
Seasons    26    13
1988    8-2-1  10-1
Current school  183-46-5  18-5
Overall  223-63-8  84-60-3
Bowls    4-11    1-2-1
Rose Bowl    1-7    0-1
CUTLINE
  When Southern Cal coach Larry Smith (right) looks across the field at
today's  Rose Bowl, he'll see his old boss, Bo Schembechler.
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<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
COMPARISON;BO SCHEMBECHLER;LARRY SMITH;COLLEGE;FOOTBALL;
STATISTIC
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
