<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8702240015
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
871115
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Sunday, November 15, 1987
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1E
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>
Photo United Press International
</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1987, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
STATE IS AGAIN DESTINY'S DARLING
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
EAST LANSING -- In the end,  nothing could hold them back, not history, not
the critics, certainly not the Indiana defenders. There was an end zone to
reach and California somewhere beyond it, and  so the Spartans players
charged, dove, banged, twisted, scored, scored, and scored again, until there
was nothing left, no way they could lose, and with the clock down to its final
seconds the crowd  stormed the field in one glorious wave of celebration:

  Go Green. 

  Go White.
  Go West.
  Michigan State is in the Rose Bowl.
  "I've been dreaming about this for a long time," said a beaming  Lorenzo
White, a rose in his hand, after piling up an incredible 292 yards and two
touchdowns in Michigan State's 27-3 victory Saturday that clinched the Big Ten
title. "And now, we did it. I may seem  calm talking to you here. But if you
saw me behind closed doors. . . . "
  Who needs that? We saw him center stage. Saw all of them -- this whole
crazy Spartans team, now headed to Pasadena for the  first time in 22 years.
They smothered the Indiana Hoosiers, swallowed them whole and dusted off the
crumbs. Outrushed them? Try a 10-to-1 ratio. Intercepted them? Try three
times. Controlled them? Try  a field goal. One measly field goal. These were
the two best teams in the Big Ten? Where was the other one? 
  "In the defensive huddle I looked into the eyes of my teammates and it was
like a nightmare  they were so intense," said MSU tackle Travis Davis
afterward. "We lined up, and the Indiana guys were looking at us like, 'Ho,
man, those guys are crazy, they're just crazy. . . . ' "
  Go Green.
  Go White.
  Go West.
  "It's fantastic," said an elated Todd Krumm, the senior free safety, whose
two interceptions were typical of an MSU defense that refused to blink. "You
know, back in high  school I had people say to me, 'Why didn't you go to
Michigan instead of State?' Well, I came here because I wanted to be with a
building program, and I wanted the Rose Bowl to be something really special.
Now we're going. And those people who questioned me? They've turned Spartan
green now."
  Nice. This is what school spirit is all about. Forget, for a moment, your
personal loyalties. This was a terrific  story: a team nobody expected, a team
that had taken its licks, a team whose coach, George Perles, had been
questioned and insulted and who, at times, had only his players on his side.
  Season after  season, the Spartans saw their petals of hope plucked off by
destiny. She loves them? No. She loves them not. And not. And not again. 
  "We never lost faith," Krumm said.
  Here is what a little  faith can do:
  Here, in his last home game, was White, once embarrassingly overhyped for
the Heisman Trophy, now running as if he had posed for it, cutting, twisting,
gulping yardage. Here was Krumm,  who turned down a baseball contract to play
his senior season, picking off a pass in the end zone to kill an Indiana
threat. Here was Blake Ezor -- whose father called Perles from Las Vegas in
hopes  the coach would recruit the kid -- returning the second-half kickoff 90
yards and all but sealing the game before sunset. Here was Bobby McAllister, a
kid from Florida who has never been to California,  dancing and dashing and
leaving the Indiana defense dizzy. . . . 
  And here, of course, was Perles himself. Blue collar? Look at that face.
That belly. His conversation is, well, down to earth. He  is not a stylist. "A
fat guy from the Pittsburgh Steelers" is the way he describes himself. And yet
he deserves this win and this title perhaps more than any of those neat, slim,
tight- lipped coaches,  for here is a guy whose love for the college game --
and for this college in particular -- brought him to this job, at a pay cut,
after being overlooked twice before. In his five years here, people have
criticized his plans, called for his resignation, and even, wrongfully,
insulted his intelligence.
  Not anymore.
  "I've had some tough times," he admitted, his hair matted with sweat, his
eyes  flicking between the reporters and the Big Ten trophy  he had just
received. "Sometimes they've been fair, sometimes questionable. But through it
all, the kids stayed behind me. . . . We built this,  it wasn't easy, and now
we gotta try and stay there."
  He took a deep breath. A few minutes earlier he had been running through a
frenzied crowd on the Spartans' field, toilet paper raining down,  goalposts
coming unplugged, thousands of green-and-white figures slapping and cheering
and tossing off the frustration of all those losing seasons. "I was getting
beat up pretty good by some pretty nice  people," Perles said. 
  "Will you observe the normal routine after this win?" he was asked.
  He grinned.
  "Well, I may not make 9:30 mass tomorrow morning. But I'll tell you this.
Not too  many of you guys are gonna have a better time than me tonight."
  Go Green.
  Go White.
  Go nuts.
  And why not? A Rose Bowl. The first since the days of Duffy Daugherty, who
died less than  two months ago, when the Spartans were 1-1 and considered mere
also-rans in the Big Ten race. A memorial service was scheduled by Daugherty's
widow, just by coincidence, for Saturday morning.  Perles  attended. "Who
would have thought it would come on the day Michigan State won the Big Ten?"
he said, nodding at the irony.
  Consider it, then, a win for tradition. For patience. 
  And consider  it a win for the "other guys" of the world, the kid brothers,
the co-stars, the understudies. Let's face it. Michigan State, by geography,
must shack up in the same state as the mighty Michigan Wolverines.  And for a
while now -- a long while -- the Spartans have  been sleeping in the bottom
bunk. 
  Not this time. 
  Say no more about the "weak" conference this year. Say no more about this
season's  Big Ten being some sort of Big Nine- And-A-Half. It is not Michigan
State's job to make its opponents stronger; merely to beat them. And that, it
has done. To Michigan. To Ohio State. To Indiana.
  "I'm flying high, man!" yelled wide receiver Andre Rison, who caught a
beautiful 22-yard touchdown pass in a flurry of second quarter offense that
clinched the victory. "I'm so happy, I can't even remember  the game right
now."
  He'll remember soon enough, while he's buying sunglasses and tanning oil.
And this, when he remembers, is what he should know: Whomever MSU plays in the
Rose Bowl Jan. 1, whatever  the odds, whatever the outcome, there is no
snuffing out the magical moment Saturday when that clock read 00:00, and the
stands spilled onto the field, and the story for this big school near the
state's  capital was suddenly written anew. 
  "There was so much joy and happiness," said Krumm, his eyes almost misty.
"It's just a feeling we haven't had around here for a long, long time."
  Go Green. 
  Go White. 
  Go West, young Spartans.
  Destiny, she loves you after all.

CUTLINE
Andre Rison celebrates after catching a 22-yard pass from Bobby McAllister for
MSU's second touchdown.
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<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
MSU; COLLEGE;FOOTBALL
</KEYWORDS>
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