Four? For the love of cool unis

Could it really be? Could a group of football players graduate from the University of Michigan without beating their in-state rivals even once?

Well, unless there's a red shirt or med school involved, the answer is an unfortunate "yes".

Yesterday the Wolverines tasted defeat for the first time, in the most hospitable of confines, smoke-stack-less Spartan Stadium. Under-rated and under-appreciated #23 Michigan State used two key mistakes to turn a stalemate into check mate and ink a fourth straight "L" into the Wolverine record books with a 28-14 win over 11th-ranked Michigan.

For the second straight season the Spartans did what few defenses have been able to do even once: make laceless quarterback Denard Robinson look like a typical quarterback. The junior blur was held to just 165 yards of total offense, barely more than half his season average of 308. Michigan State nearly equalled Robinson's numbers in penalties alone, getting flagged 13 times for 124 yards--including an alarming six personal fouls.

But what did in the white-on-white Wolverines, who wore white pants for the first time in 36 years (see photo of freshman Rick Leach, who also spent an afternoon eluding Spartan defenders during Michigan's 16-6 win in 1975) were two costly errors at two key moments in the contest. First, an ill-executed and questionable fourth down play inside the MSU 10-yard line. And second, a play in which quarterback Denard Robinson succeeded to make something happen, just not for the maize and blue. And white.

In Mistake #1, the Wolverines trailed 14-7 early in the fourth quarter and faced fourth and 1 from inside the Spartan 10-yard line. Michigan State cornerback Johnny Adams blew up the play, first timing the snap, then seeing through Robinson's fake handoff and dropping Michigan's signal-caller for a 10-yard sack, one of seven for 62 yards on the day.

As deflating as that was, Mistake #2 was downright demoralizing.

With less than five minutes remaining and the Wolverines within seven, a scrambling Robinson was met by Allen and his sophomore counterpart, linebacker Max Bullough. Just beforehand, he dished the ball into the awaiting arms of Spartan safety Isaiah Lewis, who never broke stride as he sprinted 39 yards for what would become the final point os the day.

Spartan stalwart Edwin Baker was the star on this sunny afternoon, blasting for 167 yards on 20 carries as once again, the school with the advantage on the ground (MSU, 213-82) emerged victorious. enior quarterback Kirk Cousins (see my pic) outperformed his modest statistics with touchdown passes on third downs, the second a 13-yard strike to wideout Keshawn Martin to grow the MSU lead to 21-7.

On a day where the most visible clash was Nike Combat versus Adidas Classic Throwback, the school in the strange green, gold and black unis took care of the school in the all-white, blue and yellow striped unis. Underneath it all, unfortunately, the result on the field wasn't all that unfamiliar. From where I sat in the stands, I could swear the wooden likeness of Paul Bunyan is even wearing combat green.

Who's Your Triage?

It's been said that the best way to overcome one's fear is to immerse one's self in the source of it. If this is true, then Jim Leyland may have cured an entire city's case of believeinmephobia last night.

In an act described as anything from desperation to stubbornness ot insanity, the Detroit Tiger skipper [left] told a media gathering yesterday afternoon that he would not be using his two top closers in Game 5 of the ALCS against Texas. To his point, Joaquin Benoit and Jose Valverde were at critical mass with extensive duty for two consecutive games, each having experienced his highest pitch total of the season over the previous 48 hours. But if announcing their day off with such certainty was a surprise, his next revelation was the stuff triple-dog dares were made of.

"Who do you plan to use tonight?" a reporter asked. Leyland replied without hesitation. "We're going to try to get through the game with (Justin) Verlander and (Phil) Coke." Silence. A room full of loud-mouthed beat writers and international sportscasters weren't ready for what they just heard, not in the idea of JV throwing deep into the game, but in the only other name Leyland mentioned. Coke was one of two pitchers in the eighth inning of ALDS Game 4 whose appearanced failed to generate as much as an out. So instead of the impulsive "No, really?" follow-up, they observed unplanned moment of utter speechlessness.

Hours later, Verlander used his legs and once again lifted the franchise onto his shoulders, in a somewhat shaky yet nonetheless dominant 132-pitch effort that carried the Tigers two outs into the eighth inning with a three-run cushion. Just enough comfort for the often hurl-inspiring relief hurler as it turned out. Buoyed by Leyland's confidence, Coke fought through a trio of Texas hits and mowed down the heaviest part of the lineup in the ninth to close out a gutty 7-5 win, closing the Rangers' lead in the best-of-seven series to three games to two.

With every spin, twirl and plunge of this team's postseason thrill ride, we're all getting to know more about Leyland, the smoking gun behind the explosive ball club. First of all, we can see that he's having the time of his life. There's no bitterness, no profanity-fueled tantrums at home plate, and no hand-wringing at the collection of wounded soldiers within his ranks. When asked if he was worried about taking the field without Delmon Young, Magglio Ordonez [above] and the newly injured Delmon Young in the lineup, Leyland gave his questioner a look of chagrin. "Worried? I'm excited. We're in the American League championship series. We just went to New York and beat the Yankees, and now we're playing for the pennant. This is a one-of-a-kind opportunity."

An opportunity that's equally stimulating on an intellectual level. Consider the considerations he's had to consider. First there's the mysterious case of the disappearing right-handed outfielders. Brendan Boesch, who in his first full major league season was hitting .306 with 44 RBIs before the All-Star break, sprained his thumb in August and underwent season-ending ulnar collateral ligament surgery (ouch!) last month. Young, the free-agent pickup from Minnesota that exploded his way into the playoffs, suffered a pulled oblique muscle after his heroic home run in the series-clinching win over New York. Then, at some point during the rain-soaked first game of the ALCS, Ordonez fractured the same ankle that ended his 2010 season.

As if that weren't enough to make one question the notion of fairness, Martinez [left] pulled an oblique muscle of his own, during his swing that sent a Colby Lewis pitch deep into the Comerica Park bleachers in the Tigers' game 3 win. Who knew hitting a homer could be such a health risk?

Most of us find fascination in things like sportfishing or . Skip finds it in the intricacies of manipulating the fractured elements of his team. Victor's oblique muscle isn't quite as immobilizing when he bats right-handed; however, his knees won't allow him to play catcher any more this season. Despite what's being called a "minor patella" issue, catcher Alex Avila is the only option behind the plate, his defensiveness and pitch management being central reasons why anyone batting .080 in the playoffs (and falling!) would remain in the lineup. And Delmon Young's oblique injury seems to affect his ability to throw more than his ability to hit. "Hmmm... [deep Marlboro inhale]... what if I make Young the DH, bat Victor against lefties and pinch hit with Don Kelly?" There's costumes in the barn and dad knows music. What if we put on a show?

The details of each injury are merely clues to Leyland, as he tries to solve the puzzle of how to win the American League pennant. While his colleagues are playing chess in the park, Leyland is playing chess IN THE PARK. Perhaps the most important piece of all may be Avila [at right, consulting with Verlander], arguably the team's most valuable player on a team that also happens to have the AL batting champ, the soon-to-be Cy Young winner, and a closer who's saved each and every one of his 52 opportunities.

Avila re-aggrivated his damaged knee during Game 3 of the ALDS, when he stepped on Yankee first-baseman Robinson Cano's foot while attempting to beat out a bunt. The knee is now grotesquely swolen, to the extent that Leyland will only refer to his pregame training room regimen as "unbelievable." It has started to affect his other knee as well, and as that knee goes, so goes the fate of this team.

But don't tell that to Jimmy Smokes. He's too busy creating a world champion. One man's M*A*S*H unit is another man's masterpiece.

His following includes family, friends, fans and Doppler Radar

The Detroit Tigers' ace pitcher has a dark cloud following him everywhere. While this may sound like the bad depression analogy in a Prozac ad, it's taken on a very literal sense during this year's American League playoffs. First there was that unsettling one inning of work before the rain hit in New York. Followed by his start-stop-wait-dry-off-then-start-and-stop-again washout performance in Texas. And now, as the clouds swirl above our heads, his next appearance in game 5 tomorrow is already shaky. Like the horse's whinny at the mention of Frau Blucher in Young Frankenstein, the mere mention of his name is met with a thunderclap.

It's a phenomenon that deserves recognition, and I'm not the only one who feels this way. So in the spirit of naming hurricanes, here's an informational message just released by the National Weather Service:




This is a Noreaster, centered just off the coast of New England.















And this is a Verlander, heading ENE toward SE Michigan tomorrow afternoon.