If there was ever any doubt about it, the preternatural goings on in Columbus, Ohio last week proved once and for all that Woody Hayes is indeed a soothsayer in baggy pants. Invoking such household deities as Abraham Lincoln, Robert Redford, General Patton, Jonas Salk, Little Orphan Annie and Archie Griffin, the Olentangy Oracle prophesied that the clash between Ohio State and Michigan would be an athletic Armageddon, a holy war waged in behalf of God, country and well-groomed men everywhere.
"I feel sometimes that the Man upstairs sort of likes us," Woody said on the eve of the big showdown. "Maybe we deserved the thing that happened to us—notice I didn't say 'defeat'—at Michigan State two weeks ago. Maybe He was testing us, saying, 'Let's see what kind of people are at Ohio State...Do they take defeat lightly? Can they come back from adversity?' "
Well, no and yes. No, the Buckeyes' controversial 16-13 loss to the Spartans was not taken lightly, especially by a coach who still seems ready to backhand the first man who suggests that it was anything but "questionable." And yes, Ohio State can not only come back, but, as Michigan learned last week, do it with a vengeance. But throwing adversity for a loss, something of a Hayes specialty, did not in itself make this "the greatest thrill-packed game this country has to offer." What does qualify him for clairvoyant-of-the-year honors is the new and startling way his Buckeyes triumphed.
It was not easy considering the long and storied history of what Hayes calls "the greatest rivalry in any sport." All season long, in fact, the only real question has been what could Ohio State and Michigan possibly do for an encore?
Anything, it was hoped, but a repeat of the frustration of last year, when No. 1 Ohio State and No. 4 Michigan, both undefeated, struggled to a 10-10 tie that required a vote by the Big Ten athletic directors to determine who would go to the Rose Bowl. Indeed, the 6-4 decision in favor of Ohio State so outraged Michigan Coach Bo Schembechler that he was slapped with a two-year probation for accusing Big Ten Commissioner Wayne Duke of "engineering" the vote.
Hayes and his Buckeyes did their best to conjure up something different last week. Like winning 12-10 while only once penetrating beyond the Michigan 25. Like bringing in an ailing defensive back from the hospital to make a critical interception before being carried from the field. And like setting a Buckeye record with four field goals by a walk-on Czech refugee who gets kicking tips from his younger sister.
But by winning, Ohio State forced another vote by the athletic directors and, because of the narrow margin of victory, it seemed possible that Michigan would go to Pasadena. The 10 directors met in Chicago on Sunday and their meeting was long and vocal, but when they emerged Ohio State was again told to start packing for California while for Michigan it was another chorus of "no place like home for the holidays."
Despite the postgame haggling, the weekend was one of those rare instances in which the event was worthy of the buildup. That is no small achievement considering all the drumbeating that Hayes was doing last week. "By comparison," he kept telling anyone who would listen, "the Super Bowl and the World Series don't even compare with our rivalry. USC versus UCLA? Ho hum." At other moments he would turn historian. "How did our great rivalry get started? Well, the real fight started back in 1836 when Andrew Jackson, that wily old cuss, took Toledo away from that state up north and gave it to us."
As for Schembechler, he was disinclined to rehash the events of a century ago—or even last year. "I don't want to talk about it," he said. "This is football, not politics. Nothing that happened last year matters this year."
Bo apparently has not been frequenting the Michigan dorms lately. Linebacker Steve Strinko, for one, said before the game, "You're never going to see a team as high as Michigan in Columbus. It went to a vote last year and they shafted us. So we're not going to let them shaft us this time. The other day some of us were sitting around watching TV and one of the guys said, 'If you gave me an elbow pad before the Ohio State game I'd be ready to eat it.' " The Banks brothers, Harry and Larry, promised to be even more demonstrative. Larry, a defensive end, aware that Ohio State's Archie Griffin was going for his 22nd consecutive game of rushing for 100 or more yards, said, "The only way Griffin will get 100 yards is if I die." Harry, a defensive back, added, "If we lose, I hope to exhale my last breath on the field."