<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8502120433
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
851020
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Sunday, October 20, 1985
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO EDITION
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1D
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1985, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
THE HAWKEYES DESERVE TO BE NO. 1 -- BY A FOOT
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
IOWA CITY -- The ball was snapped, the holder slammed it to earth,
point-first, and the kicker's foot came through with a thud. The ball rose up
high  and through the uprights, and the biggest college  football game of the
year was decided with :00 showing on the clock.

  It was an Iowa foot.

  The Hawkeyes  won.
  And that was the proper ending to this game, as hard as it is to swallow
for Michigan  fans.
  The Wolverines were No. 2 and trying harder. But the Wolverines are still
No. 1.
  They deserve it.
  Was it close? As close as two halves of a peanut butter sandwich. Closer
than air.  If these teams were twins, they'd be Siamese. If they were of the
opposite sexes, they'd be engaged by now.
  But Michigan lost, 12-10, and lost seems like an overly harsh word for this
game --  because  its offense  sputtered when it most needed to  fly, and
its brilliant defense, which didn't surrender a touchdown to the
highest-scoring team in the nation, couldn't keep Iowa out of field goal range
 forever.
  YOU CAN CALL any series of downs in a football game "crucial."  But in a
contest like this, which was beautiful from start to  finish in its balance,
you watch the fourth quarter. And there,  when Michigan took possession with
7:38 remaining, was the one slip on the thin ice that cost the Wolverines  the
game.
  Michigan's offense has always been a defensive weapon in how it controls
the  ball and keeps the opposing offense off the field. Lately, Michigan has
been  passing more than is traditional, which has turned  its offense into an
even more potent weapon.
  But on that particular  series of fourth-quarter downs, the Wolverines
reverted to a familiar battle cry. Run right, run left, run right. The last
attempt was stopped by Iowa for a two- yard loss, and the Wolverines had to
punt  the ball, which five minutes and 27 seconds later would go sailing
through the uprights with the No. 1 ranking.
  "Our offense failed to control the ball," coach Bo Schembechler said, "and
with Chuck  Long and Ronnie Harmon on the same team, it's extremely difficult
to shut them down.
  "We can and we did keep 'em out of the end zone. But you can't shut them
down."
  No, you can't. Give  the Hawkeyes  credit. They played beautifully. Long
passes through defenses like a hot knife through butter, and Harmon turns
three-yard gains into 13 yards, five-yard gains into 20.
  IN THEIR final drive --  which  must have had every human being and half
the corn stalks in this state holding their breath -- the Hawkeyes converted
no fewer than three essential third-down plays, none shorter than five yards.
  "The greatest thing I could do was grab Chuck by the shirt and tell him to
do his thing," said Iowa coach Hayden Fry. "That's exactly what he did."
  And the foot of placekicker Rob Houghtlin --  who had missed a 44-yard
attempt earlier in the fourth quarter -- did the rest.
  Of course, depending on whom you ask, the score of this game was 12-10 or
16-10. Those who say the latter will be  dressed in yellow, have a big "I" on
all their clothing, and know a lot about the corn crop.  They are Iowans. 
  "We wuz almost robbed," they will scream. Actually, people from Brooklyn
scream that.  Iowans probably scream something a little less grimy, like, "Gee
 whiz, ref, no fair!"
  But the point is the same. On a third-and-12 play in the second quarter,
Long threw a seeing-eye pass to receiver  Scott Helverson, who made a diving
catch in the far lip of the end zone. An official ruled he was out of bounds.
The camera replays seemed to indicate otherwise.
  The Hawkeyes  settled for a field  goal, and had they lost, you can bet
that official  would have needed a police escort out.
  But they didn't. That's just one other reason the results here are just.
  Still, how can you complain  about a game like this? How much closer can it
get? A kick. Two points. How far is that? About the distance between No. 1 and
No. 2 in the nation, I guess.
  "I think I'll even vote us No. 1 tomorrow,"  Fry said. He should not feel
guilty.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
U-M;COLLEGE;FOOTBALL
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
