<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8603020280
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
861229
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Monday, December 29, 1986
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1E
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1986, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
GAMES NOT ALL ON THE FIELD FOR WOLVERINES' MOON
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
CITY OF INDUSTRY, Calif.  -- This is the week for heroes, for the best and
the brashest of college football.  They are stars -- these quarterbacks and
running backs and mammoth linemen. But because  they are stars, chances are
they have been carefully handled. Chances are they haven't seen as much bad as
good.

  Pat Moons, who is not a star, has seen it all -- the top and the bottom of
college  football in America. The Rose Bowl will be his last game as a
Michigan Wolverine, the end of a career he calls "both memorable and
forgettable."

  And a lot more typical than you think.
  The college  vultures spotted him early, because a great kicker is like
gold to a football program. Even as a high- schooler in Ft. Lauderdale, Fla.,
Moons was getting phone calls and visits and favors. Some alumni  from the
University of Florida brought him things at Christmas, and arranged for summer
jobs -- if you can call them jobs.
  "It'd be like painting a house," he said. "I'd show up, and most of the
house would already be painted. I'd work for five minutes and get paid."
  His sister wanted to attend Florida. No problem, said the alumni. His
friend wanted to attend, also. No problem, came the answer.
  Then Pat Moons decided to go to Michigan.
  Big problem.
  The sister and friend were suddenly ignored. Those same alumni began
calling Moons' house, insulting his family, telling his  mother, "Your son
used us."
  He used  them? That's a good one.
Trouble, then fame
  As a freshman at Michigan, Moons did not play. He could deal with that.
But then the NCAA investigators showed  up. They got Moons alone in his
dormitory. They wanted information on recruiting violations. They said if he
didn't tell them what had happened with Florida, they could take away some of
his U-M eligibility.  Bo  Schembechler and his staff encouraged Moons to
talk, but the kicker could sense resentment.
  "It was like, Michigan was a clean program," he said, "but suddenly there
was talk of illegality floating  around, all because of me."
  Moons talked to the NCAA.  That  helped uncover  a major recruiting
scandal at Florida, which resulted in the Gators' probation and the departure
of head coach Charley  Pell.
  It left Pat Moons "afraid to go home."
  We haven't even mentioned football yet. Does that tell you something about
college sports?
  Moons didn't expect the world. He understood he wasn't exactly the Midwest
football stereotype. He was small, had long blond hair and, in his words, a
"party person look." It hurt him some, he said, but it was important to him
that he have his own identity.
  When his junior season came around, the kicking job was open and he felt he
had earned it. But in the last two days of practice, he missed one field goal,
a 51-yarder. Mike Gillette didn't miss any.
  Gillette was given the job.
  "I thought about quitting," Moons said. This certainly wasn't what he
imagined as a blue-chip kicker  back in Florida. But he stuck it out. Stayed
on the team. Stayed  in class. Then, on the Friday before the Ohio State game
-- the biggest game of the year -- he was watching TV when his roommate came
in and said, "Gillette's been suspended. You're kicking this weekend."
  Moons thought it was a joke. But he went to practice, and suddenly, people
who usually ignored him were looking his way. Jim Harbaugh, the quarterback,
smiled knowingly. Then Schembechler called Moons  in. "We have all the
confidence in the world in you . . . " he began.
  And Pat Moons delivered. He kicked the first three points of the game and
hit another field goal in the third quarter. Michigan  won, 27-17. 'That was
my moment," he said. "Sure, it was kind of phony -- suddenly I'm one of the
boys and all. But that's the fantasy world of college athletics."
  He shrugged and joined the party.
Falling  back to earth
  His senior year has not been as kind. Despite his performance against Ohio
State, the coaches, he said, continued to ride him. He resented it. "You don't
handle kickers like you handle  offensive linemen," he said.
  As a result of the criticism, he was tentative, and in the Iowa game, the
sixth game of this season, he was replaced. He has not started since.
  So here at the Rose  Bowl, Pat Moons -- one-time hero, one- time
bench-warmer -- will handle only the kickoffs. And when the game is over, the
career is over.
  He is not a star. But how many really are? What he has gone through -- the
wooing, the praise, the ridicule --  is  closer to the truth than the gilded
four years of some Heisman Trophy candidate.  What did he call it? "Memorable
and forgettable"?
  Yes. Well  put. There was a time when Pat Moons thought football was just a
game to be played. But that was a long time ago.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
U-M;FOOTBALL;COLUMN
</KEYWORDS>
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