2B — October 5, 2015
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
SportsMonday
SPORTSMONDAY COLUMN
My bubbie and sports
C
HERRY HILL, N.J.
— Two Michigan
shutouts bookended my
grandmother’s life. Sylvia Cohen
was born on
Oct. 13, 1927,
two days
before Elton
Wieman’s
Wolverines
shut out
Wisconsin.
She passed
away Friday
at the age of
87, six days
after the
Wolverines defeated Brigham
Young, 31-0.
She was never the biggest
sports fan, a fact she readily
admitted. But of all the people
in the world, my grandmother
(I call her Bubbie) might be
the biggest reason I’m in the
position to write this column
every other week.
Bubbie could tell a story
like nobody else. She could
wax poetic for hours about
being a child during the Great
Depression, growing up in
Brooklyn or summers in the
Catskill Mountains. Sometimes,
her stories even involved sports
— she spent her entire life
surrounded by sports lunatics.
In Brooklyn, everyone was
crazy about the Dodgers before
they moved to Los Angeles in
1958. Bubbie always told me
about how people called them
“The Bums” because the players
made little money. Times were
different back then, she’d say.
Bubbie never attended a game
at Ebbets Field, though, until
after she met my grandfather.
They went on a date to a game
between the Dodgers and
the Philadelphia Phillies, my
grandfather’s favorite team. The
date worked out well, I guess.
They were married for 66 years.
My grandfather is an
enormous sports fan, the most
knowledgeable one I know.
He remembers the first game
he ever went to, when the
Chicago White Sox defeated
the Philadelphia Athletics, 5-3,
at Shibe Park in Philadelphia
on May 26, 1935. Jimmy Dykes,
the White Sox third baseman,
hit two home runs that day. My
grandfather remembers the
details of the game 80 years
later.
He has held Eagles and Flyers
season tickets for more than 40
years, and he taught his sons
— my father and my uncle — to
love the same teams he did. That
much was evident from their
dinner conversations.
Bubbie cooked her family
dinner nearly every night when
my dad was growing up. She
put the food on the table, and
the conversation immediately
turned to sports.
My dad, my uncle and my
grandfather then went on and
on about the latest happenings
in Philadelphia sports. When
they weren’t talking about
Philadelphia sports, my uncle
jokes, they talked about fellow
Jews who played sports. Bubbie
sat and listened through it all.
Sports, however little she was
interested, were a constant in
her life.
One week, during what my
dad believes was 1978, his cousin
came to visit the family. The son
of a Holocaust survivor from
Germany, he had little interest
in sports.
After a week filled with
talking about baseball, listening
to baseball on the radio and
attending baseball games with
Bubbie’s family, he was hooked.
He spent all of his time in the
aftermath of the visit walking
around his home with a radio
to his ear listening to baseball
games.
Bubbie’s sister called her
after the visit with one question:
“What did you do to my son?”
When it came to the sports
talk, my Bubbie always
referenced a quote from her
own mother, who came to live in
the United States from Europe.
After spending time with
Bubbie’s family, she once said, “I
know they’re speaking English,
but I have no idea what they’re
saying.”
Most of the time, neither
did Bubbie. My dad and my
grandfather have had a fantasy
football team for 26 years, and
every year from when I was
three years old until I left for
Ann Arbor, my Bubbie and I
would come to the draft as
guests. When I was young,
we ate pizza together and
talked while my dad and my
grandfather made their picks.
But as I got older and became
more involved in the team, she
always smiled and reminded me
that she was there, “just in case
we needed help.”
Sometimes, shockingly, we
took caring about sports too
far. Bubbie hosted many family
dinners in my lifetime that
devolved into shouting matches
about the Eagles, Donovan
McNabb and whether making it
to the NFC Championship Game
every year but never winning
the goddamn Super Bowl was
enough. She never batted an eye.
I don’t know how she put up
with it all.
Because games were always
on in the house, Bubbie did
know enough to pick a few
favorite players. She loved the
scrappy bad boys, the ones
who gave it their all on the
field but were prone to trouble
off of it. She became a fan of
Allen Iverson and Pete Rose in
particular, two players who,
to say the least, were quite
interesting. She always said she
found them exciting to watch.
It wasn’t until the last few
years that Bubbie became a
regular viewer of sports. She
started to tune into the Phillies,
putting down the books she
loved to read to watch the
games with my grandfather.
Chase Utley became her favorite
player, to the point that she
was adamant the Phillies never
should have traded him this
summer. No matter how hard
I tried to convince her that the
Phillies needed to get younger,
she would have none of it.
Luckily for me, Bubbie was
the only Jewish grandmother in
the world who was just as proud
of her grandson who wanted to
be a sports writer as she would
have been had he wanted to be a
doctor or a lawyer.
The day before she died, my
sister — a freshman at Michigan
— and I flew home from Ann
Arbor. We went to the hospital
to visit Bubbie one last time. In
a way, it was a great day, time to
spend a few last moments with
someone we loved.
We told her about our lives at
school and how everything was
going. My sister showed Bubbie
pictures of her friends hanging
out in the Big House, all of them
grinning and decked out in
Michigan gear from head to toe.
It was the last time I saw
Bubbie smile.
Cohen can be reached at
maxac@umich.edu and on
Twitter @MaxACohen.
ALLISON FARRAND/Daily
Jim Harbaugh (left) was joined by his brother John (right) on the sidelines Saturday.
Hurricane
Harbaugh
C
OLLEGE PARK — The
official blew his whistle,
and the Maryland play-
ers hurried indoors, heads low
and spirits
even lower.
Fans soon
followed
suit, leaving
their snacks,
ponchos and
confidence
behind to
join the
long lines
of others
desperate to
evacuate the scene.
While they waited, questions
of leadership turned to anger —
hope had turned to despair.
Remaining in the wake were
thousands of Michigan fans
who clouded Byrd Stadium
with maize and blue and joy.
Below them were the players,
still somewhat shocked at the
damage they caused and can
cause at their next stop.
And at the center of it all
stood the eye of a storm that
has an entire nation talking —
Michigan coach Jim Harbaugh.
On a day when Hurricane
Joaquin mercifully changed
course and steered clear of
Maryland, Harbaugh and his
team made sure to leave behind
a lasting impact of their own.
The destruction of the
Terrapins was far from
surprising: The Wolverines have
outscored their opponents by
a combined 122-14 in their last
four games and outgained them
by a staggering 1,023 yards in
that span. But like all hurricanes,
Hurricane Harbaugh is as
unstoppable as it is predictable.
“We knew we had a challenge
ahead of ourselves,” said
Maryland running back Wes
Brown. “They didn’t do anything
special that we didn’t see on
film. It was on us, we weren’t
executing.”
Despite the strong forecasts,
the storm was slow to start.
In a sloppy but scoreless first
quarter, it looked like 16-point
underdog Maryland had taken
the necessary precautions to
keep everyone safe.
But it wasn’t enough, as a sea
of white uniforms and winged
helmets rose from the sideline
and drowned out any hopes of an
upset. The Wolverines suffocated
the Terrapins, holding them to 35
yards on 46 plays after their first
two possessions.
By the time the third quarter
rolled around, and backup
quarterback Daxx Garman
was sacked with all six of his
blockers laying on the ground
in front of him, it was too late to
escape Harbaugh’s wrath — his
team was too fast, too powerful
and no longer on the horizon.
Yes, Hurricane Harbaugh is
still picking up steam, and can
become even more powerful.
Fifth-year senior quarterback
Jake Rudock continues to turn
the ball over and miss big plays
on offense, half a dozen players
were limited in practice with
injuries and, though the defense
has allowed just 1.8 yards per
play and 205 total yards in its
last two games, slow starts on
defense could doom Michigan in
its upcoming two games against
No. 17 Northwestern and No. 2
Michigan State.
But the fact remains: Hurricane
Harbaugh gathers momentum
and strength with every team it
obliterates, and looks as strong
as any storm to originate in Ann
Arbor has in years.
Experts will continue to
debate just how far this team can
go, what category it belongs in
and how teams match up.
But on Saturday, it was
stunningly clear: the damage left
behind by Hurricane Harbaugh
is not something to take lightly.
Shaw can be reached at
zachshaw@umich.edu or on
Twitter @_ZachShaw.
FOOTBALL
FOOTBALL
Defense earns
second shutout
By MAX BULTMAN
Daily Sports Editor
COLLEGE PARK — Michigan
football coach Jim Harbaugh had
to catch himself before he praised
his defense too highly.
“A very high level,” Harbaugh
said of his defense’s play on
Saturday. “I reserve ‘highest.’ I
think we can do better. … I think
there’s still a higher level.”
For the second week in a row,
the Wolverines’ defense was
nearly impenetrable in a 28-0
win over Maryland. Michigan
allowed just 105 total yards, the
same number it did in a 31-0
pounding of then-No. 22 BYU last
week.
The Wolverines have now put
together back-to-back shutouts
for the first time since 2000,
when Michigan blanked Indiana
and Michigan State.
Saturday was a performance
worthy
of
that
distinction.
Maryland
quarterback
C.J.
Rowe hardly had time to throw,
completing just eight of 27
passes on the day. He threw
three interceptions before being
pulled, bringing his season total
to 12 through five games, and he
was sacked four times behind an
offensive line that was simply no
match for the Wolverines.
Redshirt defensive tackle Matt
Godin had 1.5 sacks, and redshirt
sophomore
defensive
tackle
Maurice Hurst added two tackles
for loss, one of which was a sack,
in an effort that was nothing
short of dominant.
On one play near the end of
the third quarter, redshirt junior
defensive
end
Willie
Henry
plowed
through
his
blocker
and had a free shot at Rowe’s
replacement,
Daxx
Garman.
Henry outstretched his arms and
wrapped up Garman, throwing
him to the turf with ferocity.
And it wasn’t just Henry who
crushed his man on the play.
Every member of the Terrapins’
offensive line ended up on the
ground while Henry devoured
their quarterback.
Maryland ended the game
with 29 yards rushing, largely
in part to the minus-23 yards its
quarterbacks accumulated on the
ground. But after the game, the
Wolverines weren’t ready to pat
themselves on the back.
“We had a couple plays where
they got first downs,” Hurst said.
“We’ve gotta look at that and
correct it. They shouldn’t have
anything.”
They
nearly
didn’t.
The
Terrapins earned just seven first
downs the entire game, and they
were a dreadful 1-for-18 on third
down.
Meanwhile, every facet of the
Michigan defense clicked. The
pass defense, which entered the
game allowing the fifth-fewest
yards per game in the country at
121.8, outdid itself again, allowing
just 76.
Even
fifth-year
senior
linebacker
Desmond
Morgan
came away with an interception,
adding two pass breakups to a
dominant effort.
And while the big plays were
impressive, there was still an
aspect of the defense Harbaugh
was more impressed with.
“The key to the game (was)
when the offense made mistakes,
our
defense
did
not
allow
Maryland to capitalize on them,”
Harbaugh said. “That was the
difference.”
Michigan has now allowed just
seven points in its last 15 quarters,
dating back to its 28-0 win over
Oregon State on Sept. 12. With
Northwestern’s
stout
defense
coming to Ann Arbor next week,
fans could be in for some of the
lowest-scoring football in recent
memory.
If Harbaugh has anything to
say about it, more history could
be made.
“Now I want to know what’s
three, when’s (the last time a
Michigan team pitched three
consecutive shutouts?)” Harbaugh
wondered after the game. “I’ll
have to look that one up.”
ZACH
SHAW
MAX
COHEN
COURTESY OF THE COHEN FAMILY
From Ebbets Field in Brooklyn to her home outside Philadelphia, sports were a constant in Sylvia Cohen’s life. Pictured: Sylvia and Max Cohen in 1995.