Carr's faith in ground game religion stays strong in home stretch

OK, so what's happening now?

Last week's shootout in West Lafayette was not a Big Ten game. At least, not one that would be recognized by the dual prophets of field-position, run-it-up-the-gut-till-they-barf football - Woody and Bo.

The Boilermakers and Spartans combined for 743 total passing yards. On the ground, they totaled 103. Totaled, as in both teams. Even Michigan's rushing game (motto: we think we can, we think we can) usually does better than that. And that's one team

Rick Freeman Freeman of the Press

. This was two.

The Big Ten's ground attacks are not the only ones to be afflicted this year. More and more teams are stuffing the box, and daring teams to beat them through the air. This, of course, has not affected the Mountain West Conference, where all of its teams still play catch until 1 a.m. But in other legitimate conferences (and the Pac-10) rushing games are fizzling.

Nowhere, of course, is it more obvious than in the Midwest. Big Ten teams are starting to dig this whole forward pass thing. Rushing yards per game are going down. Coaches are decrying it as though speaking of a nation that has lost its morals and virtue.

They talk of the impending cold-weather days like Diag preachers foretelling a Judgment Day in the not-too-distant future. They say they'll need a running game. They say things like "we'll get a rushing game or we'll die trying."

That last pledge was from Michigan's coach, Lloyd Carr. Nowhere else is a simple handoff so revered. Carr is ready to martyr himself and his team for a good ground game.

DANA LINNANE/Daily Anthony Thomas can't be the entire ground attack if Michigan is to regain the momentum it had leading up to the Michigan State game.

Face it. For teams, the running game is a bit like religion. It's good for you, and it will get you through tough times. But - and people who consider themselves religious say this in a very quiet voice - it's a little boring sometimes.

So now, while times are good and the sun shines, Big Ten teams have found the box stuffed with too many men. The dutiful good works of draws, traps, dives - and even a pitchout or two - have been forsaken for the oohs, aahs, and easy scores of the air.

Now, Tom Brady and Drew Henson shouldn't be burned at the stake for their perceived heresy (no one would be able to decide which one to burn first, anyway). Passing isn't the evil that Woody and Bo made it out to be.

But maybe Carr is right to offer up his team's success for the good of ground games in general. He has to be willing to lull the fans to sleep in these next three games to establish the kind of ground-pounding attack that can save Michigan when cold winds swirl in November.

In trying to establish a running game that doesn't also go exclusively by the name of Anthony Thomas, Carr has to be willing to risk scores of 20-8, 27-17, or 17-6 against teams like Illinois, Indiana and Northwestern to get B.J. Askew, Charles Drake or Walter Cross their carries. Other Big Ten coaches will do the same.

Carr's plan: to make hay while the sun shines - to practice a life of virtue now, so he doesn't have to be the prodigal son, returning to the ground game only when the chill of November in Pennsylvania threatens.

Yes, it's boring. Yes, it's not as fun as Brees to Daniels, Brady to Terrell or even Casey to Fields. But in the Midwest, in the anything-goes Big Ten, it just might be salvation when someone needs it most.

- Rick Freeman has all sorts of weak excuses for why he wasn't in church on Sunday - but his ground game isn't one of them. E-mail him at rickfree@umich.edu

10-20-99