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PHOTOS BY BENJI DELL/Daly

The ideal end to
a football career
at Michigan is
a career in the
NFL, but what
about the vast
majority who
don't make
the cut?
By Kevin Wright
Daily Sports Editor

Some wore the jerseys of
their favorite players. Oth-
E xcited fans lined the hallway.
ers clasped paper, pictures
or footballs hoping to have
them signed.
They all wanted, at the very least, to
catch aglimpse ofthe former college foot-
ball stars walking into the RCA Dome for
the NFL Scouting Combine.
As the players made their way through
the crowd to the media room, the ten-
sion was palpable. Roughly 300 frenzied
reporters shouted out questions to the
NFL hopefuls before they filed into the
combine for the drills.
They found it a somewhat uncom-
fortable limbo between college stardom
and NFL glory. The players no longer
had names. Southern Cal's star wide-
out Dwayne Jarrett was simply WR 22,
Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn
was QB 11 Michigan defensive tackle
Alan Branch's sweatshirt identified him
as DL 11. For the college athletes, accus-
tomed to being unparalleled on the field,
the combine held a simple message - this
was the big leagues.
After it's all over, the great ones, the
best football players in the country and

by extension, the world, will go on to
a promised land countless kids dream
about. The photographerswill snap their
picture and their girlfriends will swoon,
and they'll go on to fortune and glory.
And then there are the players who
don't make it out of limbo. The vast
majority of college athletes, the ones the
NFL recruiters saw flinch on the bench
press or hesitate during the sprint, the
ones who walk out of the RCA dome
defeated.
What happens to those Michigan
players who sprinted out from the tun-
nel at Michigan Stadium for four years,
enjoyed VIP status at Rick's and Alpha
Epsilon Pi and spent endless hours in
practice, the weight room and film ses-
sions?
Do they enjoy their lives after foot-
ball? Does a Michigan degree mean as
much as recruiters here say it does?
It's reality that only a fraction of the
athletes who grace the field at the Big
House actually make a career out of
sports. The majority of football players
use the skillsathey learn in the classroom,
not on the field, to make ends meet later
in life. And that can be a challenge if the
classroom is an afterthought.

TASTING THE DREAM
Looking back, Bob Bergeron wouldn't
say the classroom was an afterthought,
but at least for a while, it looked like the
former walk-on kicker for the Michigan
football team wouldn't be needing his
education degree after all.
Bergeron was invited to the Dallas
Cowboys camp just after he graduated
in 1984. And there, the Fort Wayne, Ind.
native found himself standing on the
same field as NFL legends.
"It was awesome to see football played
at the highest level," Bergeron said.
Bergeron had a good chance to make
the team. But Cowboy coaches pitted
him against Rafael Septein for a spot.
Septein was a brilliant kicker, and he sent
every ball he touched through the goal.
Bergeron was good, but he only made
about 87 percent.
He was cut.
"I knew it was going to happen," he
said. "The other guy was definitely better
than me."
But the disappointment didn't long. He
already had another job lined up - one
that used his University degree.
He got a job as a high school teacher,
and after a couple moves, he eventu-

ally ended up in his hometown of Fort
Wayne at R. Nelson Snyder High School
where he's a math teacher. Most people
will agree that the NFL is more glamor-
ous than teaching high school math, it's
the real world though, and as Bergeron
will tell you, not everyone can be a foot-
ball player. Someone has to teach them
math.
He hasn't lost the Wolverine fight-
ing spirit though, and he imparts what
he can of it to the Snider Panthers as an
assistant coach for the school's football
team.
Lots of football players walk onto the
team imagining a future in the NFL,
but Bergeron came closer than most.
There are others though, who take lon-
ger to understand that they didn't have
a future in the NFL. Maybe they toil in
the minor leagues indefinitely or slide
through school with a communica-
tions major and a low GPA, only to find
they have to go back to training - or
to school. The University's team isn't
without people who put academics first,
though. Every once in a while you run
across someone who laid it all down for
something that doesn't seem as excit-
ing, like say, dentistry.

GIVING UP THE BALANCING ACT
In 1982, Norm Betts approached
then-Michigan coach Bo Schembechler
to inform him of his intentions to forgo
his final year of eligibility to enter den-
tal school. Schembechler had never had
a player pass on his final year of eligibil-
ity before.
"I decided I wasn't going to either
one of them very well doing it that way,"
Betts said. "So I went to Bo and decided I
was just going to go to dental school and
do a good job at that because that was I'm
goingto do for the rest of my life."
The tight end had already been to
two Rose Bowls (including the phantom
touchdown game against Southern Cal
in 1979). The Pittsburgh Steelers and the
Dallas Cowboys had told Betts that he
was on their draft boards.
Betts decided he couldn't do both
football and dental school.
He chose dental school and never
lookedback.
"I wasn't really interested in playing
in the NFL," Betts said. "I really didn't
know what else I was going to (do to) get
out of (the sport)."
Betts had sat down with his father
and received the support of his team-

mates in his decision to pursue a future
outside of the stadium.
"I'd go watch the games and wish I
was out there," Betts said. It was hard,
he said, though the dental profession has
served him well. "I'm glad I did it and
wouldn't change it for anything."
He ventures back every year as a sea-
son ticket holder. After graduating, Betts
finished his residency at the University
and left for the University of Pennsylva-
nia. He returned to Ann Arbor in 1999 as
the chairman of the University of Michi-
gan dental school. He now has his own
practice.
Betts was an anomaly though. Most
students would be slow to sacrifice an
illustrious run in the Big House to focus
on someone else's molars. The most tai-
ented players might be slow to focus on
school rather than their athletics, and
as they sit in class, quite a few probably
don't realize they don't have a football.
THE OTHER COACH
"They all still believe they're going to
go to the NFL, at least for a little while,"
said Shari Acho, an associate athletic
director at the University.
See FOOTBALL, Page 7B