The Death of the Dead Schembechlers

The Death of the Dead Schembechlers

The Death of the Dead Schembechlers

p>Bo Schembechler was a grasp tactician proper to the tip. When the storied ex-Michigan football coach collapsed and died in November, I used to be 9 hours from taking the stage because the bass player for a punk-rock novelty band known as the Dead Schembechlers. Because of the championship stakes of this season’s Ohio State–Michigan matchup–and the press coverage we would received–our annual Hate Michigan Rally that night time was a sellout. We’d lead fifteen hundred drunken Buckeye followers in songs like “Bomb Ann Arbor Now” and “I Wipe My Ass with Wolverine Fur.”

We had performed solely twice within the two years since we fashioned, But the Dead Schembechlers had develop into larger than Watershed, the “actual” band the guitarist and I’ve toiled in for twenty years. Hatred for Michigan is served up like fluoride within the Columbus faucet water, so it took precisely one present for the Dead Schembechlers to dwarf Watershed. We did not thoughts. The joke band was financing the actual band.

But then the coach’s seventy-seven-year-old heart ticked right down to double zeros, and we had been Dead Schembechlers on the day the joke was not humorous. Schembechler, that artful sonofabitch, had gotten us.

Our live performance was debated on radio call-in exhibits throughout the nation. Ought to the Dead Schembechlers cancel? Information photographers snapped shots of the marquee over Excessive Avenue: HATE MICHIGAN RALLY/DEAD SCHEMBECHLERS. If we had been a legit, safety-pin-in-the-ear punk band, we’d have left the signal and issued a press release saying, We’re glad the bastard croaked, and we sincerely hope crows are consuming his eyes this very minute. But we’re hot-dog-and-a-ball-game guys. With wives and children and mortgages. Our followers are football followers, not punk rockers.

So we had the marquee modified to BEAT MICHIGAN RALLY. GOD BLESS BO. And we held a press convention to announce that we’d donate the income from this, our third and last efficiency, to a charity of the Schembechler household’s selecting. As shutters clicked and ballpoint pens rolled, I attempted to not sweat freely giving more cash than Watershed pulls down in a yr. As an alternative, I stared into the digital camera lenses and raised a half smile, pondering that if the Schembechler household has a humorousness, they’re going to have us lower a examine to the College of Michigan football Scholarship Program.

The Dead Schembechlers may be dead, But Watershed continues to battle in rock ‘n’ roll’s trenches. And on lengthy nights in empty, mop-bucket bars, I nonetheless assume, Certain, it was good that on our greatest night time as a band we pledged to donate the cash. But the reality is, freely giving my share of greater than $10,000 was giving till it hurts.

And apart from, I actually do hate Michigan.

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