" Stan White!" McCullough said. " Stan White! My long-haired beautiful Stan White!"
All season, Woody, Lou had sat and talked with Stan White about linebacking, concealing a pair of scissors. He would chat with White about such tactics as "bullets" and " Georgia" and "roll," whatever they mean, and he would reach up and go snip, snip at White's hair. It would keep growing of course, but so would White as a linebacker. He would become a defensive star to take his place with all those senior heroes like Jim Stillwagon, Jack Tatum, Doug Adams, Tim Anderson, Mark Debevc and Mike Sensibaugh.
"Stillwagon!" yelled McCullough, soaking wet, a bit tearful himself. "Hurt on their first series but just so much guts I can't believe it. They haven't blocked him yet!"
McCullough said, " Tatum!" He said, "What'd they drop? Four passes? Did they hear any of his footsteps? Hee, hee, did we sting 'em or not?"
Ohio State had been waiting a year, of course. But during the rather insane week of the game some people had begun to wonder if the Buckeyes might be overprepared. The coaching staff was still working until midnight, still looking at films, and cramming so much stuff into Buckeye brains they couldn't possibly remember it all. Or could they?
And why wouldn't they get too high too soon? All week the students were parading and serenading. On Wednesday, in fact, they woke up some team members at 2:30 a.m. with a pep rally. That's when you moved them to a hiding place for Thursday and Friday, Woody.
And then what was all this high school business with the gimmicks? Were they really necessary to get the Buckeyes angry for the team that had humiliated them for a whole year? Besides the Wolverine jerseys on the floor you had a Michigan recording that blared endlessly through the dressing room you kept everyone out of. And what about that sentimental quiz?
After everything else, after all the times Woody and Lou had reminded the Buckeyes of the 24-12 upset at Ann Arbor in 1969, there was this quiz. The Bucks were handed pencils and paper and asked to write an answer to the following question: "What are you personally going to do to help us win this game?"
It would have been funny if some generation-gapper like Rex Kern had answered, "Would you repeat that?" But no one did. And when the coaches later read the statements of some of the subs—"I know I won't play but I'll yell 200%"—they were moved to misty eyes.
As the old joke goes, Woody, the turning point of the game was when your Ohio Staters came on the field. Hardly any of their feet touched the ground and some of their fists were raised and clinched and they almost beat each other into pulps. The crowd of 87,331, another record, was just as thunderously wild. Michigan had to fumble the opening kickoff. It was ordained by you, we had to presume. Michigan did. And right away it was 3-0.