Fourth And Long: The Excerpt Comment Count

Brian

John Bacon's latest book Fourth and Long is a look at four Big Ten teams in various places as the 2012 season progresses: Penn State, Ohio State, Michigan, and Northwestern. While the Penn State stuff is unbelievably compelling, Bacon also touches on the increasing commercialization of the game—a hot button topic here—in multiple sections, including Michigan.

The following is an account of what went down during the Great Band Fiasco Of 2012. If you desire a look at the Northwestern and Ohio State sections, Sippin' On Purple and Eleven Warriors both have excerpts today.

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Cowboy Stadium

On Friday morning, April 20, 2012, while I watched workers set up the stage for the groundbreaking ceremony for Penn State’s $104 million hockey arena the day before their football team’s spring game, I took my weekly call from Ann Arbor’s local sports-talk station, WTKA.

This being six days after Michigan’s spring scrimmage, I assumed the morning hosts would ask me how Michigan’s second-year coaches, who favored a pro-set offense, were meshing with soon-to-be senior Denard Robinson, the consummate spread-offense quarterback. So I was a little surprised when Ira Weintraub and Sam Webb asked me about the Michigan-Alabama game, scheduled more than four months away, on September 1 in Dallas.

It was already being hyped as a clash between two tradition-rich programs, both ranked in the preseason Top 10, and two tradition-rich conferences. But it was bigger than that, because the schools had struck a deal with the Dallas Cowboys’ celebrity owner, Jerry Jones, to play the game in his shiny, new, $1.15 billion, state-of-the-art pleasure dome, nicknamed Jerry World.

They called the game the Cowboy Classic, a four-year-old version of the former Kickoff Classic, and it had come to represent the apotheosis— or nadir, depending on your view—of all that modern college football was becoming: the colossal, professional stadium; the seemingly endless corporate tie-ins; and the orgy of interest in a game between amateur athletes.

Although Michigan did not sell out its allotment of 17,500 tickets for the Sugar Bowl a couple months earlier, the athletic department had no trouble selling all 25,000 tickets for the Cowboy Classic, before they could even offer them to the general public. They were gobbled up entirely by Victors Club members: first to those with the most “priority points” (which they accumulate largely through donations), down to those with just one priority point. Thousands of fans with no priority points got shut out.

It was all the more impressive because the tickets for the Cowboy Classic weren’t cheap: $125 for a seat in the rafters and $285 for one on the 50, plus $80 for parking across the street. Jerry World also offered standing-room-only tickets, which one website packaged with vouchers for a beverage, a hot dog, and a bag of chips for $89—and sold more than twenty-three hundred of them.

“Let’s put it like this,” the ever-quotable Jerry Jones said the week of the game. “I’m going to compare it even to the Super Bowl. They’re two different events—but this is the hottest ticket . . . of any game or any event that we’ve had at that stadium.”

Michigan would net $4.7 million for the Cowboy Classic matchup with Alabama, the highest payout ever for a Kickoff Classic/Cowboy Classic season opener. After the department publicized that fact, fans were surprised to hear athletic director Dave Brandon announce he would not be sending the Michigan Marching Band to the game because the athletic department couldn’t afford the $400,000 travel expense. That decision lit up sports-talk shows across the state.

This seemingly simple decision to leave the band at home raised an equally simple question: How important is the marching band to the fans?

A few weeks before Brandon’s announcement, he sent band director Scott Boerma an RFP, or a “request for proposal,” which is how CEOs ask for a sales pitch. Brandon told Boerma to put together a page of bullet points explaining why Boerma thought it would be better for the band to fly to Dallas for the season opener against Alabama, on September 1.

“We did so,” Boerma told me, “and we turned it in. We never expected Brandon to fly us down, but we hoped. At that point, it was my assumption that we would have a conversation about those bullet points, most likely making compromises on both sides. But a few days later, we heard that the answer was simply no. And that was it.”

Ann Arbor Torch And Pitchfork

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Boerma and his band were stunned, but not as much as their loyal following, who blasted the decision through just about every medium available. For a week in late April, the band’s fate dominated Ann Arbor sports-talk radio—a first, to be sure. Invective aside, the callers’ main complaint was that if Brandon eliminated a home game or the possibility of an attractive home-and-home against Alabama for the chance to play in Jerry World primarily for the record paycheck, as he stated, then why couldn’t Michigan afford the $400,000 it would cost to take the marching band? After all, the band had to be one of the main attractions of college football Jerry Jones surely expected when he invited two college teams to play in his pleasure dome.

There seem to be a few reasons behind Brandon’s initial decision. A $4.7 million payday sounds like a lot, but according to MGoBlog’s Brian Cook, it was actually about $300,000 less than Michigan would have made if Brandon had scheduled Alabama for a home-and-home series, on the same terms Michigan had with Notre Dame. The deal looks even worse when you take into account the team’s travel costs to Dallas, and the substantial revenue from parking and concessions Michigan would have kept for a home game—not to mention the excitement such a game would generate among season-ticket holders from the day it was announced. Cook concludes, “This supposed financial windfall simply does not exist.” [Ed: the department would later cop to this fact.]

But if you looked at Brandon’s initial decision to leave the band behind purely from a short-term business perspective, it made sense. The band trip would cost real money, coming right off the bottom line, but would not necessarily influence the outcome or ticket sales or TV ratings. Fans would not wait in long lines to buy Michigan Marching Band uniforms—be they classic or “alternative”—and EA Sports was not champing at the bit to put Michigan’s drum major on the cover of its next marching-band video game.

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from "Day 2 Marching Band Not Going To Dallas Rage Thread"

If you bring it back to the simple question of keeping your fans happy, however, Brandon’s decision was as foolhardy as the CEO of Cracker Jack eliminating the prizes at the bottom of the boxes because, hey, you can’t eat them, and those things cost money. If there is one symbol of college football that distinguishes the irrational, romantic notions fans feel for their favorite sport from the streamlined sensibilities of the pro game, the marching band might be the best place to start. When the band plays, the students feel connected to their parents, and their parents feel connected to their past, traveling back in time to their college days.

It is the prize at the bottom of the box.

Shortly after Bill Martin became athletic director in 2000, he commissioned a survey titled “Fans Speak Out on Game Day Experience,” by his good friend, Republican pollster Bob Teeter. The response rate alone told them how passionate Michigan fans were about their team. While most consumer surveys attract a 6 to 8 percent rate of return, fully 64 percent of the three thousand Michigan fans randomly selected responded—or about ten times the average.

When these season-ticket holders were asked to rank the importance of twenty-three aspects of the game-day experience, the survey readers weren’t too shocked to find seat location atop the list, with 88 percent of respondents ranking it “important.” But the marching band finished a close fourth, with 83 percent, two places ahead of the final score, and four ahead of the quality of the opponent. Thus, whether the Wolverines won or lost, or which team they were playing—in other words, the football game—was less important to the fans than seeing the marching band. After all, the band remained undefeated.

Brandon took some hits for his decision from fans, who flooded his e-mail account, but donors soon stepped up to cover half the $400,000 tab, leading some to believe the whole incident was a ruse to get someone else to pay the bill. But UM’s band director at the time, Scott Boerma, wasn’t buying it. “I do not think he planned on the backlash,” Boerma told me, “nor do I think it was some clever way to get donors to pony up for it. Dave was genuinely surprised.”

After Brandon finally capitulated, he told the Detroit Economic Club in August that it was all a “misunderstanding,” akin to a “family squabble.” He said he had agreed from the outset to fund the $100,000 necessary for the band to take buses down to Dallas, allowing them to play concerts along the way."

“The band changed their mind,” Brandon said. “They decided they didn’t want to be in buses and they didn’t want to play their way to Dallas, and they came and said, ‘We’re planning on coming to Dallas, everybody’s planning on coming to Dallas, but we’re not going to ride in buses—we’re going to fly in a jumbo jet and here’s what it’s going to cost.’”

But Boerma recalls the dialogue differently. “I think it’s important for people to know that we never ‘changed our mind.’ We never agreed to busing down and playing gigs along the way. We offered to look into that possibility, but when we did, we determined that it really wouldn’t be best for all concerned, especially because it would be the weekend before classes started, and we would lose several days of our pre-season rehearsals, when we prepare for the entire fall ahead. We never refused to bus down, as Brandon said. We were never given the opportunity to refuse anything, because there was no follow-up conversation.

“When it all hit the fan, I made sure that it wasn’t the band students and staff causing a commotion. We just laid low and waited for it all to work out. If the decision to not take the band down remained intact, we would have been fine with that. It was Brandon’s decision; he was paying the bills, and that’s his business.”

Of course, some fans angered over the decision included big donors, who ultimately stepped up to cover half the cost of the band’s trip.

"The band is coming to Dallas," Brandon told his audience. "And I hope you enjoy every note."

Leaving the band behind for a big game proved not to be an option—at least in 2012.

As the arms race escalates, Brandon does not seem terribly interested in slowing down to ponder it all. He is too busy pressing full steam ahead. “I don’t talk the past,” he said several times in his first year as Michigan’s athletic director. “I create the future.”

He might just be right.

If the future of Penn State was in the hands of its players, and Ohio State in the hands of its new head coach, Michigan’s was in the hands of its new athletic director.

Fourth and Long is available everywhere: 11  bucks on Kindle, 16 for a hardcover. Worth it just for the story about Jay Paterno getting chased out of his own locker room, and there are 200 more pages.

Comments

Laser Wolf

August 23rd, 2013 at 12:44 PM ^

"If the future of Penn State was in the hands of its players, and Ohio State in the hands of its new head coach, Michigan’s was in the hands of its new athletic director."

Hold me.

 

imafreak1

August 23rd, 2013 at 4:10 PM ^

What the hell does this even mean?

Here's an idea. If JUB is going to write about college football how about he hold everyone to same standard and not Michigan to one standard and everyone else to a different one?

I mean come on. Penn State is still climbing out of the hole they dug from harboring a child rapist--a scandal that engulfed nearly the entire state. OSU just fired their coach for being a big liar and vacated entire seasons. Let's shine their knob and criticize Brandon because of the marching band.

 

AriGold

August 23rd, 2013 at 1:05 PM ^

good for bottom-line business, terrible for grasping what the fans want...sooner or later he will screw up big again and the big-time donors will show him the axe...in the words of Ari Gold "Hit the unemployment line, because you're fucking fired!!!"

TimH

August 23rd, 2013 at 1:30 PM ^

Maybe Brandon just made an honest mistake on this one?  As a former player, it's possible he never got into the band and didn't think it was a big deal not to have them there.  Especially at that cost.  I honestly couldn't have cared less.  Maybe a pep band to play The Victors, but the whole marching band seemed unnecessary.  Doesn't mean Brandon hates all Michigan tradition, like some want to extrapolate.

Monocle Smile

August 23rd, 2013 at 2:25 PM ^

Maybe, but there's no way someone in PR didn't warn him of the backlash from the alumni. Support for the band has been known for decades, at least.

If it WAS a mistake, people would be more forgiving if Brandon came clean and admitted he screwed up. Instead, he tried to blame the band itself and then upped the douche factor.

jls1144

August 23rd, 2013 at 1:36 PM ^

Bacon on 97.1 the fan this am in Columbus. They primarily spoke about Penn State, but the Ohio part was amusing. Especially when Zach Boren was called out for not buying into Urban's plan.

ChiBlueBoy

August 23rd, 2013 at 1:43 PM ^

I think what Bacon is pointing to is that Michigan football (like football in other tradition-rich schools) is based on a deeper bedrock of tradition. Having a strong team with no shared past works in the NFL. In college, it's like building a mansion on sand (to steal a metaphor). DB is good at promoting and "leveraging" the mansion, but in some cases he seems unaware of the bedrock on which it's built.

If UM's teams perform well, but you undermine the traditions of UM (and I use "traditions" in the broadest sense), ultimately many fans, like me, will cease caring and spend our money elsewhere. Because UM's traditions, culture and community are so strong, we easily weathered a few down years in football and support it more than ever. To the extent that the ground beneath the team, however, is jeopardized, like mining beneath a skyscraper, ultimately the edifice will sink and the support of many will end.

Njia

August 23rd, 2013 at 1:44 PM ^

Brandon might or might not have meant a lot of things by that statement, but so what? At a bare minimum, it is just one more example of the extent to which he lacks awareness of environmental and social cues, not to mention expectations.

chitownblue2

August 23rd, 2013 at 2:04 PM ^

Look.

John Bacon is the guy that wrote a full page about Steven Threet crying in his locker after getting benched against PSU...WHEN HE WAS NOT BENCHED AGAINST PSU, and later sustained an injury (in the second half! (when he was benched?)) that kept him out two games.

He writes a narrative based on a sequence of plays in the Purdue game that...didn't occur.

He published uncorroborated claims by PSU players against Silas Redd, and when asked if he verified them, replied "why? they had no season to lie". (really?)

He wrote an entire book about Rodriguez, and his eventual dissolution and never addresses the defense - the firing of Shafer (and the politics behind it) or the hiring of Robinson.

He repeatedly castigates the most stable program in NCAA football over the course of these two books for immature back-biting while lovingly stroking a program that just finished the 20+ year coverup of a child rapist.

He goes on the radio and pitches utterly fabricated counter-history where Tom Brady did not start in 1999, and that's why it's hard to get him on campus today.

He wrote at least 3 paragraphs about Rich Rodriguez's glistening calves on the stairmaster.

This guy is empty. Disregard him.

charblue.

August 23rd, 2013 at 3:08 PM ^

journalistic approach or choice of subject matter, he is an insider who responds to the things he's written. 

I think the band story is intriguing from a purely business standpoint. The band director obviously understood the reason why Brandon said no to sending his kids to Jerry World for the Alabama game. I just don't understand as a former player, and someone who should know what the band means to Michigan tradition and how the coaches talk about its importance to their team and the game experience, why you wouldn't want them as  part of such a huge event, in spite of the cost, and why you wouldn't have negotiated that as part of the deal. . I mean Jerry Jones called it what it was. That is why I fault Brandon. He could've just negotiated it as part of the contract. 

Brandon reminds me at times of Donald Trump. In this case, he went for the big payday and then cuts out the heart and soul of of Michigan game tradition, because the game check won't stretch far enough for future considerations.

Michigan commands attention  from any scheduling choice it makes. I mean c'mon college bands signify the college game experience. And the university always swallows the cost of sending everyone for a bowl game. This was bigger than the Outback, Sugar and Gator bowls. It was bigger because it had potentially more relevance to the national championship game hunt than those other games. And you want the band there, automattically. Because you do. It's part of the tradition. 

Bacon understood this point. And so it was good thing to write about. 

 

Ben_McCready

August 24th, 2013 at 9:24 AM ^

Sorry about the previous post (distracted and hit wrong button)! Thank you for running this excerpy from Fourth and Long. I am looking forward to reading John Bacon's book because I know all the Michigan people he mentions pretty well (including John) and that makes it all the more interesting. 

Michiganguy19

August 25th, 2013 at 6:04 PM ^

have stayed gome... Bamas "Million Dollar Band" owned our band in Jerryworld. They had more to celebrate but their legions of dancing girls and hoopla was a force on that jumbotron.