Maybe, in Retirement, Bo Can Take a Poll on Polls

We are gathered here today to say goodby to Bo, redoubtable field leader of Michigan, who has announced he is retiring as coach at the end of the Rose Bowl game.

Sugar Ray Leonard said he would retire, too. That was 1982. He has retired three times since.

The trouble with the world is, too many guys retiring don’t stay retired, unless, of course, they retire in the way the late Woody Hayes retired as coach at Ohio State.

Woody threw a punch at a Clemson player whom viewers expected to retire Woody on the spot.

But, a nice guy, the player showed admirable restraint and allowed Ohio State to retire Woody, ridding the Rose Bowl of its most memorable tactician.

It was Woody, remember, who, when offered luxury Buick sedans to transport his players to and from practice, informed the Rose Bowl people they could stuff their sedans. Suspecting a plot to soften his troops, Woody ordered buses.

Placing himself in charge of evening entertainment, he selected movies for the team, rejecting what he called “sexy trash” in favor of “Patton” and “The Longest Day.”

Why, he wondered idly, would filmmakers expose viewers to sordid scenes in the bedroom when they could bring them war?

Serving as athletic director of Michigan, Bo is showing promise on the job. The other day, for instance, he demanded to know why the presidents of the Big Ten would take in Penn State without consulting the athletic directors.

The president of Michigan, especially, is in deep stuff, thinking he can make decisions without clearing them with Bo.

Well, when Bo straightens out his president, we have for him another project of imminent concern, namely, to study the college football polls and decide whether they do anything for the sport except create anxiety and confusion.

Also, does enough science go into the votes to give the undertakings credibility?

Say, for instance, you want to sell chili dogs from a pushcart, or cut hair. You need a license. But there are no restraints on polls, meaning any guy walking down Broadway can start one.

It generally is accepted that the polls bearing the most muscle are those conducted by the two major wire services, the Associated Press and United Press International. Sportswriters compose the AP panel, head coaches the UPI.

Well, we came upon a curio the other day. We found a coach, Don James of Washington, who actually does his own voting.

During football season, coaches are busy people. They wander about, feeling set upon. They are looking over their shoulder for alums, who are whispering the coach should have tried for the yardage instead of punting. Rating other teams doesn’t interest the coach, who enlists for the job the sports information director, who may lay it off on an assistant.

In newspaper offices, it is best you don’t inquire who does the voting. It might be a football writer, or it might be Mario the messenger, neither of whom has seen most of the teams he is rating.

“I don’t see the teams I rate, either,” admits Don James, “but I look over the scores and the stats and cast my own vote. It isn’t something you take seriously, unless you happen to see Colorado, as I did. It ran up 45 points on us. I took that seriously enough to vote for Colorado, and I’m still voting for it.”

“Can anything be said in behalf of polls?” James is asked.

“I think polls give us a certain visibility,” he answers, “and we are in a form of show business. We sell tickets. We sell TV packages. We also recruit. And a team lucky enough to be ranked high in the polls appeals to prospects.”

Many in college football like the polls for the controversy they create, claiming it’s good for the game.

But if college football looks for arguments and ranting to contribute to its health, you offer thanks other sports can find it in ways more mature, specifically, through a tournament.

Don James isn’t enraptured by football tournaments, but he does resent malpractices on the part of bowl promoters, quietly sneaking deals for teams before the official selection dates. “They’ve been fudging for years,” says Don, “and often they are burned. They’ll pick a team that’s maybe 5-4, gambling it will win its next two. And it may only split, meaning it comes to a bowl with only a 6-5, making it a kind of farce. The absolute minimum to qualify for a postseason bid should be 7-4, and even that may be a little thin.”

It always is said by coaches that bowls are a reward for a season’s effort. But, meekly, a question must be posed here.

If a team finishes less than 7-4, what has it done to be rewarded?