The Wolverine: Covering University of Michigan Football and Sports
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8 THE WOLVERINE ❱ AUGUST 2026 Now don't hang on Nothin' lasts forever but the earth and sky It slips away And all your money won't another minute buy … — Dust In The Wind (Kansas) J on Falk, the iconic former Michigan football equipment man, loved Bo Schembechler. Schembechler clearly returned that sentiment, although it usu- ally asserted itself in bursts of hard-edged, often profane banter. Schembechler brought Falk from Miami of Ohio to Michigan, where both spent decades helping the Wolverines win. The man in the aviator sunglasses captured 13 Big Ten championships in 21 years. Falk became a locker room philosopher of sorts. Asked by Tom Brady which Big Ten championship ring was his favorite, Falk uttered a reply repeated over and over by Brady in his best-quarterback-ever pro career: "The next one." But Falk knew his job and pledged his greatest fealty to Michigan. So, when Schembechler retired as U-M football coach after the 1989 season, Falk acted accordingly. Shortly after the iconic coach departed, he returned to the Michigan campus for a workout at the football fa- cility. Arriving at his accustomed locker, Schembechler found the nameplate gone, the locker empty of gear. Schembechler stormed into Falk's pres- ence, demanding: "FALK! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!" Without missing a beat, Big Jonny gave it back to his longtime boss. Pulling a line from the movie "The Natural," Falk shrugged and said, "They come, and they go, Hobbs. They come, and they go." Schembechler stared daggers … then grinned. Michigan fans didn't want Dusty May to go, and desperately so. They conjured up a dream, after living one for two basketball seasons, ushering the Wolverines from their worst record in history before his ar- rival to a national championship. They pictured him sticking around for at least 21 years. They envisioned him pulling in a half-dozen more national titles, yearly runs at a Big Ten championship, and the annual sighting of May sitting alone in front of howling Michigan State fans, act- ing like he owned Breslin Center. Then owning it. It wasn't to be. All of those dreams burst like a hot air balloon snagged on a 60-foot cactus, just weeks after May's most stir- ring success. It turns out he didn't want to rush into a locker room with champion- ship confetti still on his shoulders and be- gin immediately rebuilding a roster about to be decimated by high NBA Draft picks off his squad. He also wasn't crazy about a college basketball world in which he had to beg donors for his roster's NIL dollars with the same intensity he taught the fast break. Most of all, the opportunity to make a fast break of his own to the highest level of basketball on the planet proved too entic- ing to turn down. Dallas Mavericks, please welcome Dusty (In The Wind), fresh off the most-coveted coaches list. Just weeks after May's departure, ath- letics director Warde Manuel announced he'll be gone too, by year's end. That news received mixed reviews, as did most as- sessments of Michigan ADs since this publication began in 1989. Fans loved the basketball champion- ship this year under Manuel. They went wild for the football natty in 2023. But they — and ultimately university officials — weren't as on board with a growing list of Michigan missteps, from recruiting vio- lations, personnel problems and a sign- stealing scandal under Jim Harbaugh, to the coach's hand-picked successor melt- ing down at the end of an improper re- lationship with a subordinate. The latter triggered a university-ordered indepen- dent investigation, which certainly played a role in Manuel's agreement to step down. Of course, it didn't help that elite coaches Harbaugh, May and John Beilein bolted from Ann Arbor under the AD. Michigan fans found that tough to swal- low. Surely, May could have been retained, some insisted. Surely, somebody dropped the ball. Look at the pattern. They let Har- baugh walk. They let Beilein get away. Of course, Harbaugh struck it rich(er), returning to the NFL to pursue his Lom- bardi Trophy dream, get the NCAA off his back and live in a land that knows no winter. And Beilein dreamed of giving the NBA a shot before he retired, flirting with the pros a year earlier than he left. The de- partures are by far the weakest argument against the AD sticking around. But the other issues ultimately took their toll. Some cannot conceive of a sports world in which Michigan Stadium and Crisler Center aren't the absolute epicenter. They're pretty special, no doubt. Ask Kyle Whittingham. When he opted to leave Utah, The Big House beckoned — loudly. Nobody needed to ask twice for new bas- ketball boss Mike Boynton Jr. — architect of Michigan's staunch defense the past two years — to take over a loaded roster. But not all will stay, even when they're champions. They'll find perceived better situations. Or they'll see too many losses — on the field or off — pile up. Either way, Falk's quip to a Michigan icon of another era rings true. They come, and they go, Hobbs. They come, and they go. ❑ WOLVERINE WATCH ❱ JOHN BORTON May, Manuel Move On; U-M, Too Dusty May left for the NBA in June after his laser-focused leadership catapulted U-M to the NCAA championship in 2026. Warde Manuel, the AD who hired him, announced in July that he will be stepping down at the end of this calendar year. PHOTO BY LON HORWEDEL Senior writer John Borton has been with The Wolverine since 1991. Contact him at jborton@thewolverine.com and follow him on X (Twitter) @JB_Wolverine.