Oller: Spying, espionage and paranoia nothing new in Ohio State-Michigan rivalry series
Depending how the Ohio State-Michigan game ends, a joyous or frustrating weekend is only days away for fans of the Buckeyes and Wolverines. But while the future is impossible to predict, we can always spy on the past. And we don’t need Connor Stalions to do it.
History has a way of tapping the brakes on bold pronouncements that claim this or that thing was a “first.” Technically, that may be true, but where human nature and competitive nurture are concerned there is nothing new under the sun.
We dreamed of flying many millennia before the Wright brothers first took to the air. A message in a bottle was simply an early version of hoping to get a post noticed on social media.
And Michigan’s alleged sign-stealing scheme, which the Wolverines contend was organized by Stalions without the knowledge of Jim Harbaugh, is only a more sophisticated version of previous acts of rivalry skullduggery.
As it turns out, late November football in Columbus and Ann Arbor gives rise to all kinds of paranoia, espionage and conspiracy theory. Mistrust is baked into the culture of The Game.
Let’s take a look.
A suspicious Woody Hayes was not about to tolerate enemy infiltration. Neither was Bo Schembechler, whose paranoia played out approximately 190 miles to the north.
Convinced that Michigan might be spying on Ohio State, Hayes scanned the horizon, all the way across Olentangy River Road, his eyes stopping on a 10th-floor window of the Fawcett Center. There he saw something. A shadow? A reflection? A 1972 version of Connor Stalions? Convinced something was up, the Buckeyes coach called security to investigate the room overlooking the practice fields. Upon entry, police found a Michigan fan filming the Ohio State practice.
Or did they? The story has been told and retold so often as to confuse truth and tale. Even if it happened, it may well be that Hayes staged the stunt to pump up his players.
“I’m sure there was a little paranoia, but Woody was not going to take any chances,” Archie Griffin said last week. “He would make sure no one was filming us from the Fawcett Center. And it did fire us up.”
Added former OSU defensive lineman Pete Cusick: “I wouldn’t put anything past Woody to gain an advantage. The whole thing about spies and cops being there and binoculars? I find that Woody would do anything.”
In Ann Arbor, meanwhile, Schembechler was sniffing out his own spy caper.
Jon Falk does not recall the exact year – maybe 1970 or 1976 – but the retired Michigan equipment manager swears Schembechler’s search for an Ohio State spy in Ann Arbor is not urban legend. He knows better, because he was with the UM coach when the two marched across the street during a practice to find an Ohio State fan with a video camera.
“I saw a red light going in a window across the street and told Bo, ‘I think there’s a camera up there,’“ Falk said. “Bo says, ‘We’re going to find out.’ We go over and knock on the door and, ‘Hey, buddy, are you taking pictures of our practice?’ He told us to leave him alone. We called police and they arrived and said to him, ‘Give us the camera, son, and we’ll give it back on Monday.’ It was funny as hell. The guy thought for sure the police officer was there to protect him. Instead, it was, ‘Give me your camera.’”
Was the Ohio State fan actually filming practice? Doesn’t matter. Schembechler wanted to believe it.
“It’s been like that for years,” said Falk, who retired in 2019 after 40 years of handing out equipment and serving as confidante/consigliere to six different UM coaches. “People are paranoid and are always going to be. You can’t put too much stock into it. Just the way it goes. Everybody is worried about something.”
Sometimes with good reason. If Stalions stole opponents’ sideline signals through advance scouting – and Michigan has yet to deny it happened – the Wolverines gained an advantage. In such cases, paranoia is proved to be justified.
In other cases, opportunity becomes the mother of motivational invention.
In 1975, Woody secretly requested that Michigan give him a locker sitting directly under a leak in the ceiling. The plan was to amp up his players by accusing UM of pulling a dirty trick.
“We had an old locker room where the visitors dressed and Woody had them put him where the water was dripping,” Falk said. “As soon as the players came in Saturday, he grabbed his wet hat and yelled, ‘What do you think of this?’ and ripped the hat apart.”
That same year the Buckeyes showed up for a Friday walk-through practice at Michigan Stadium only to find a tarp covering the field.
“It was raining so hard, I had them cover the field over at the stadium,” Falk said. “Bo said, ‘OK, we won’t practice over there today.’ I get over there when coach Hayes gets off the bus and he sees the field covered. He looks at me, twists his finger into me and says, ‘Every time I come to Michigan they want to screw me.’ I said, ‘Yes, sir, but you still can’t practice on the field.’”
Falk left but returned later to find the tarp half removed.
“I talked to the groundskeeper, and he says, ‘Aw, coach Hayes treated me so nice, so I pulled the tarp back for him,’” Falk said, chuckling. “I ran back over to the offices and said to Bo, ‘You’re not going to believe it but Ohio State practiced on half the field.’ Bo laughed, ‘Old Woody doesn’t miss a trick.’”
It isn’t just Ohio State and Michigan that pull such high jinks.
In 1967, Arizona was scheduled to play its second game of the season at Ohio Stadium, so Wildcats coach Darrell Mudra sent assistant coach Cecil McGehee to Columbus to spy on OSU practices.
The surveillance worked. Arizona, which opened with a 36-17 loss to Wyoming and would finish 3-6-1, shocked the Buckeyes 14-7.
During a 1991 interview with the Arizona Daily Star, McGehee revealed how his reconnaissance mission played out. Upon arrival on campus, he entered one of the two dormitory towers under construction adjacent to the stadium and spied on three practices.
“I found a floor partially finished; no students had moved in,” McGehee said. “I could tell what the Buckeyes were going to do.”
Ohio State ran a 5-2 defense with a strong safety always on the weak side of the field, so Arizona game-planned for it.
“We always had them outmanned,” McGehee said. “They weren’t real adaptive.”
The Buckeyes have come a long way since then, mixing signals and plays to fool opponents. But the paranoia remains. Nothing new under the sun.
This article originally appeared on The Columbus Dispatch: Ohio State football history full of spy paranoia, real or imagined
