There wasn’t a kid in America in the 1970s who loved Bo Schembechler more than I did.
Growing up in nearby Toledo, we had season tickets for University of Michigan football games, so I lived and died with Bo and his team. I shed many a tear when Michigan lost, which happened far too often against Ohio State in the regular-season finale and Pac-8 teams in the Rose Bowl.
Later, when I became a journalist and interviewed Bo on occasion, something whimsical always popped into my head: What would that young girl sitting with her father and siblings in Michigan Stadium have thought of this?
Which brings us to Thursday and the absolutely horrible allegation made by Schembechler’s son Matt that when he told his father he had