9711200071
DETROIT FREE PRESS
971120
Thursday, November 20, 1997
METRO FINAL
1D
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1997, Detroit Free Press
AS HARBAUGH HEALS, HE OFFERS NO EXCUSES
If a doctor one day discovered how to wear your heart on your sleeve, Jim
Harbaugh would volunteer. Until then, he has to explain what's going on
inside.
Such is the case right now. Harbaugh, dubbed "Captain Comeback" two seasons
ago -- when he was considered a top-five quarterback in the NFL -- now finds
himself coming to the Silverdome on Sunday as a backup on the losingest team
in the league.
Even worse, his throwing hand is just now healing from a broken bone. It's not
the injury he needs to explain. Harbaugh, a tough player, has been injured all
his life. You break his nose, he breathes through his mouth. You break his
heel, he walks on his toes.
No, it's how Harbaugh got this injury that he needs to explain. It is not a
wonderful story, and he coughs through a dry throat when he tells me.
"Jim Kelly made some comments about me on a TV show in Buffalo," Harbaugh
says. "He basically said I was a baby, that I fake injuries. He said if he
were still playing, he'd tell Buffalo players to hit me in the mouth and I'd
get rattled.
"Well, he was doing a game in San Diego, and I wanted to ask him where he was
coming from with those comments. We went into a room and started talking about
it. He said, 'I call it the way I see it.' One thing led to another . . ."
And you hit him, I say.
"I hit him," he says. "I threw a couple of punches. Sometimes you have to
stand up for what you believe in.
"I broke the bone while hitting him. I've heard he's telling people I never
hit him, but I don't know why he would say that. I would assume he knew what
happened, since we were both there.
"On the way to the elevator, I felt my hand swelling up immediately."
The injury has taken Harbaugh out of the loop for the last few weeks. It has
relegated him to backup status now. It may forever shadow his career.
If you had it to do over again, I say, would you?
"I'm a guy that trusts my emotions," he says.
That's a yes, I say?
"That's a yes," he says.
Always a Michigan man
Now, I have known Jim Harbaugh, 33, since he was a college kid throwing passes
for Michigan. I have known him since he used to say "I'm so jacked!" and all
but lift into the air with excitement. From those years forward, whenever I
see Harbaugh, there is an intense yet faraway gleam in his eye, and his mouth
will curl inexplicably into a smile. You might be tempted to call it a lack of
attention. That's inaccurate. He's paying attention. He may not be paying
attention to you.
Harbaugh has an inner voice. You know. The kind of voice that says, "You can
jump off that cliff. It's not so high . . ."
The voice was there when, as a child, Harbaugh ran onto the field at Michigan,
despite repeated warnings by his father, an assistant under Bo Schemechler, to
stay away.
"GET THAT KID OFF THE FIELD!" Bo screamed.
It was inside Harbaugh years later, when, as quarterback for Bo, he predicted
Michigan would beat Ohio State the week of the game. (He delivered, much to
his and Bo's relief.)
It was inside Harbaugh when, as a rookie with the Chicago Bears, I asked him
how it felt to be a backup to Jim McMahon, then arguably the most famous
quarterback in football.
"Things are gonna change," Harbaugh said. "He won't be the starter for long."
It was there when he took Indianapolis to the AFC championship game in 1995,
and threw a Hail Mary pass on the game's final play that fell inches from
victory and a Super Bowl.
Until that point, Harbaugh's brio always had been celebrated. He got a huge
new contract. He was profiled in every sports publication.
But then things changed. The Colts didn't reach their 1995 heights in 1996.
And this year, they lost their first 10 games.
And then Jim Kelly opened his mouth . . .
The old college spirit
I have known many pro athletes who see their college years as nostalgic. Given
Harbaugh's current woes, I ask whether he misses the old college spirit,
especially now, during Michigan-Ohio State week.
"I don't miss that spirit," he says. "I have it in the pros."
And despite all that has happened, it seems that he does. He sounds confident
he will get his starting job back eventually. He sounds confident the Colts
will turn the corner. He has a bet with a teammate, an Ohio State grad, on
Saturday's game, and the loser has to wear the other guy's school outfit of
choice for a week.
"I'm looking to get a Michigan band uniform," Harbaugh says, laughing. "I want
him walking around in the gold pants, the whole thing."
I know Harbaugh is not where he wants to be. He doesn't like losing. He
doesn't like backing up Paul Justin. But I don't agree at all with Jim Kelly's
assessment. Few men have taken more physical punishment than Harbaugh, who has
worked behind some soft offensive lines. He doesn't get rattled. And he
doesn't need to fake injuries; he's had enough real ones.
This doesn't condone what Harbaugh did. But I wasn't there when he threw those
punches, and I don't know where they landed.
I do know where they came from. They came from the heart. Sometimes, it takes
you places you don't want to be. Sometimes you go anyhow.
Mitch Albom will sign copies of his new book, "Tuesdays With Morrie," 7-8
tonight at B. Dalton in Livonia Mall. To call in personal inscriptions for
later pickup, contact Little Professor in Plymouth at 313-455-5220 or Barnes &
Noble in Rochester at 248-853-9855. To leave a message for Albom at the Free
Press, call 1-313-223-4581.
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