About 4 p.m. that winter Wednesday afternoon, an office phone rang.
On the other end, a man’s voice. Urgent. Convincing.
“Bo Schembechler’s headed for Texas A&M. You better get on it.”
Click. No identification. No other words.
By sundown on Jan. 13, 1982, it was coast-to-coast news. If a deal in fact wasn’t already in place, the courtship was on, high-temperature, with the University of Michigan’s football life now staring at radical, Richter-scale-rocking tumult.