Jack

I don’t think I’m very good at eulogies, but I’m going to give it a shot. My good friend’s father died yesterday. It wasn’t sudden, he was on hospice, but it’s still sad and leaves a big hole in a lot of people’s lives. His name was Jack. When you talked about Jack amongst people who have had more than just a cursory introduction to him, they knew who you were talking about. Jack is a common name, but somehow Jack transcended it and became The Jack. I don’t think people are going to be calling me The Jim anytime soon (I hope), so you have to be a larger than life person to leave that type of impression on people. Well Jack certainly was larger than life. He had his own philosophy on things and it usually involved him being right and everyone contradicting him being wrong. I think he thought the world revolved around him, and I don’t have any problem with that. When you were around Jack, you were in Jack’s world, and he made the rules. Well most of them. He wasn’t completely intractable; he was open to reason at times.

I think it’s safe to say that the one thing Jack loved above almost everything else on Earth, was Michigan Football. Jack grew up in Michigan. He was born and bred on Maize and Blue. The first time I met him was at a Michigan Tailgater. He used some of his pull at GM to hook up a perfect spot just a stone’s throw from the stadium, and that’s where he set up shop on Saturdays in the Fall, for Michigan Football. My buddy and I would always stop by the tailgater on the way to the game. Jack would meet us with a beer and a smile. We’d throw the football around, and Jack would pull out the jam box. He would play the Michigan band, Bambalance (don’t ask), and one of the single best things I’ve ever heard in my life, The best of Bob Ufer. A lot of people outside of the state of Michigan have no idea who Bob Ufer is. Well he is one of the most awesome biased announcers to ever hit the airwaves. Nowadays, in the era of political correctness, most of the announcers try to call an even game; they don’t let their affinity for one team or the other leak out. Not Ufer, he was Maize and Blue through and through. Jack had a best of Bob Ufer tape that he compiled himself and it included all the classics, from Tommy Darden, to Supertoe, to Darth Vader Woody Hayes roaming the sidelines at Ohio State. There was/is nothing like listening to that Ufer tape to get you amped up to attend a Michigan Football game.

Late in the Season one year, we were playing Northwestern. My Buddy and I drove in and met Jack at the game. We tailgated, and had a few beers. Well we managed to sneak a few beers into the stadium. We had an extra ticket, so at halftime, somebody left the stadium, went back to the car, and snuck in a bunch more beer. By the end of the game, there were like 25 beer cans in front of our seats. Luckily the tight security at the Big House didn’t catch onto our shenanigans. Jack liked to tip a few back in the day, he was fun to hang with. He wasn’t always a fan of the Michigan coaching staff and would get into arguments with the other patrons at the stadium on this and other subjects. The arguments usually ended with Jack handing out “tongue lashings” to those foolish enough to confront him. Jack got to see some good Michigan Football in his day and at least he got to watch us win the whole enchilada in 97. We all went to the Rose Bowl in 2005. That was a blast. What an awesome game. We gave Texas everything we had, there was just no answer for Vince Young; a lesson that the mighty USC Trojans learned the next year in the National Championship at the same stadium.

I could go on for days about Jack. He got a little football crazy one day and decided to go at my buddy out of a three point stance. My bud deftly dodged the block and Jack went face first into the stove. The stove was the worse for the wear with a dent in the handle. Jack came out of it with two black eyes. So he put his M jersey on and sent out a picture captioned “You don’t want none of this.” No doubt about that one. Another time my bud and I were down in Bloomington where Jack moved for work. Jack had been invited to a wedding, but wasn’t up for going. So Jack sent my buddy and me as his envoys. It was a pretty good time. I believe it was held at the Motel 6. We grabbed a few beers, listened to sweet home Alabama get played out of a boombox, and then bolted. This became affectionately known as…The Hillbilly Wedding. Good times. Jack used to take us to the Indy 500. We saw one of the last races there that was open. We also saw the first Indy Racing League Indy 500. I think Arie Luyendyk won that one. All I remember was that each person could bring in a cooler. So we all packed a full cooler each. We didn’t realize we had to walk like 2 miles to get to our seats. That’s a long walk with 30 pounds of cooler hanging off your arm. Those coolers were quite a bit lighter on the way home. At one of the Indy 500 weekends, we had another buddy along with us. Jack kept calling him newt. None of us could figure out what the heck he was talking about. Finally, someone got the nerve up to ask him. He said, “You know…Knute. Like Knute Rockne.” Our buddy went to Notre Dame.

Jack was a piece of Americana and he loved American stories like The Natural and The Rocky Saga. He would quote Rocky 2, “Hey Father Carmine, can you send down a blessing, y’know, in case I get beat up tonight.” Well hopefully Father Carmine is looking after Jack now. Rest in Peace Jack, We’ll miss you, and we’ll definitely be thinking of you every time the Football team runs out of the tunnel under the “Go Blue M Club Supports You” banner, every time we crack a brew or chomp on a #11 at the tailgater, every time 112 well-schooled well-disciplined Michigan bandsmen hit the field to what John Philip Sousa called the greatest college fight song ever written “The Michigan Victors,” and especially when the Michigan drum major leans back and mashes his tassel into the ground. Jack, we know you’re up there in Football Valhalla next to Bob Ufer, enjoy the view.