At a certain point it's probably good to start to ask: is Michigan football still A Thing?
I mean, I know they play games. There are fans, players, coaches. Passes are thrown and tackles are made. Jim Harbaugh makes a trillion dollars in gold bullion to stand on the sidelines with his hands on his hips before wildly gesticulating at the refs about two additional seconds needing to be put back on the clock or whatever.
That all clearly happens, because every week I watch the Wolverines trudge out on the field, perform some kind of weird Ingmar Bergman-y Danse Macabre for three and a half hours, and then I write about why it was dumb.