Band of Buckeyes
Statement from the band on Coach Schembechler's death:
The band is crushed to learn of the death of Bo Schembechler. We named this band after Coach Schembechler to honor him as the face of Wolverine football. We have never wished ill will upon him in any way and have always wished him the best. When we learned that Bo had seen our web site and was amused by it we were delighted. We were simply delighted. He said to those with him as he read it, "See, I still matter in Columbus!" That may have been the greatest understatement in football history. We believe that he took the band's name as the compliment that it was meant as and that he was flattered by it. We wish to extend our deepest and most heartfelt sympathies to his family. We are truly sorry for their loss.
More on The Dead Schembechlers:
Click to hear "Tedd Ginn Did Everythin' "
ANN ARBOR, Mich. – The Live Schembechler – who dresses, not surprisingly, like Bo Schembechler – was talking about the Dead Schembechlers – who dress like Woody Hayes.
This was even better than you'd imagine when a 77-year-old conservative college football legend tries to wrap his mind around a half-vulgar, completely punk rock band from Columbus, Ohio, named after his eternal demise.
It is also why Ohio State-Michigan – arguably the best rivalry in college sports in any year – is completely over the top this week as the buildup to Saturday's historic No. 1 vs. No. 2 matchup in Columbus approaches.
You just can't make-up Bo Schembechler laughing along with the ridiculousness of the self-described "Best Damn Punk Band in the Land."
"I never heard of them until a couple weeks ago," Bo said. "I was doing my television show and a guy down there at the studio asked me if I ever heard of (the Dead Schembechlers). I said, 'No, there is no such thing as that.'
"And then he took me over to the computer and he showed me where they did have a band.
"I don't know what their thinking is."
Then he shook his head and laughed again.
Bo probably doesn't want to know. The Dead Schembechlers are four guys from Ohio who perform outrageous anti-Michigan, pro-Buckeyes punk songs while dressed as the late Woody Hayes. Seriously.
While they only perform once per year – at Friday's "Anti-Michigan Rally" in Columbus – and make virtually no money (they all have side careers), they've become a cult favorite with "hits" such as "Bomb Ann Arbor Now," "Schembechler Kicked My Crippled Dog" and other absurdities.
"We have four new songs, too," lead singer Bo Biafra said Sunday, as the group prepped for the big show. "There is 'The Ann Arbor Chainsaw Massacre Christmas Song' which is our first-ever holiday tune.
"There is a summer song about the great surf scene in Central Ohio called 'Buckeye Surfer Girl.'
"We also have a punk version of 'We Don't Give a Damn for the Whole State of Michigan.' And our biggest hit from this year called 'Chad Henne is a (expletive) Joke.' "
Their lyrics aren't for the faint of heart. They aren't for families. You either get the joke or you don't. But in an era when rough discourse has lost all imagination with shrill talk radio rants and mindless message board posts, at least these guys are creative. At least they are entertaining and putting their flames to music.
Besides, what else do you expect out of a punk band? Of course, in the name of CBGB, what kind of punk band likes college football?
"An Ohio State punk band."
The ironic thing is the actual Bo Schembechler actually liked the actual Woody Hayes. Bo played for Woody at Miami of Ohio and spent six years as Woody's assistant at Ohio State. He even has a graduate degree from OSU.
"I escaped from Columbus," Bo said smiling Monday. "But I had a wonderful experience there because I coached for Woody when Woody was really Woody. He was the most irascible guy that ever lived, and the worst guy in the world to work for. But I wouldn't change that experience for anything in the world.
"I'll never forget how tough that guy was. I was sitting there as a graduate assistant, 21 years old, and after the Michigan game – we lost to Michigan that year 7-0 – and we went back home and Woody called a meeting at his house.
"We're all sitting there in his house and he's got the projector and he's running it back and forth, and he's getting madder and madder. And suddenly, he picked up that projector and threw it. And he said, 'I won't subject the people of Columbus to football like that.' "
No, the two weren't close during the 10 years that Bo's career in Ann Arbor and Woody's in Columbus overlapped. They didn't talk much then. But once Woody retired, they went right back to the old times.
And that is the thing about this rivalry. That is why, perhaps, this is different than the others.
While it can get as intense and nasty and gut-wrenching as a Dead Schembechler lyric, it also, at the exact same time, is somehow also about mutual respect and admiration, about a shared commitment to excellence and a century-plus of high-level competition.
"The greatest rivalry in all of college sports," current Michigan coach Lloyd Carr said.
"I can't fathom anything else being like it," Ohio State coach Jim Tressel said.
"I have enormous, enormous respect for Ohio State," Schembechler said. "There's no other team I would rather play, no other coach I would rather go against than the old man."
The Dead Schembechlers refuse to divulge what they do in real life. All of them go by stage names starting with Bo – Bo Biafra on vocals, Bo Thunder on guitar, Bo Vicious on bass, Bo Scabies on drums. They claim that if their identities are revealed, a marauding band of Michigan murderers will hunt and kill them. Or something like that.
But you can imagine they are accountants or firefighters or some other decidedly rational Middle America heads of household.
They just happen to have a band and a screw loose for Ohio State and their personal coaching savior – the late Woody Hayes.
"It honestly is not about the money for us," claimed Biafra, explaining why they won't play more than one show per year and refuse to leave the safe haven of Columbus. "We've always gotten a lot of offers (to tour), particularly in places like Akron, Cleveland, Dayton and, of course, the International hot spot of the world … Sandusky."
Biafra is on a roll this week. He can't talk enough. His lark of an idea back in the 1990s to put this band together – he claims it was a calling from a higher power – is suddenly getting a lot of attention. And so, wind him up and here he goes – pure comedy and a Borat-style, never-break-character dissertation.
"You are aware, sir, that Ohio State has never lost to Michigan," Biafra said. "They are undefeated. We've played over 100 times, but we have never been defeated.
"Now, you may have read reports of Buckeye losses in the liberal Wolverine media. But the fact is, the Buckeyes have never been defeated by the Wolverines.
"You have to understand that for many years the international Wolverine conspiracy, which is a power mad cadre of University of Michigan graduates bent on worldwide domination using the Michigan football program as the tip of their foul sphere. They do things like poison the water supply at the stadium, putting mind-altering chemicals in to make people believe the Wolverines won these games.
"As time went on, flight appeared. So they hooked up crude crop-dusting devices. And they would spray the crowd at the Horseshoe or up there at Michigan Stadium and control them through these drugs.
"Once the games were televised, it is very easy to use computer-generated imaging like they do with the big Hollywood movies to make you think it is one way when it is the other.
"If they can make Elijah Wood into a Hobbit, they can sure make a football bounce the way they want it to."
You want to argue with that? Bo?
To Bo Biafra, Bo Schembechler is the devil. Lloyd Carr is close behind. Woody, obviously, is a god. Jim Tressel isn't at the Woody level yet, but with a victory Saturday, he'll be gaining fast.
"Did you know the great Polish astronomer Copernicus many centuries ago had proved the sun was already shining out of Jim Tressel's behind?" Biafra asked.
No, I didn't know that.
"Yes, it is quite amazing that he could see that many years into the future using his advanced mathematical equations. Jim Tressel is a phenomenal coach. No, he is not Woody, but nobody could be.
"I will tell you this, I have written a song specifically for coach Jim Tressel that we have never played. Would you like to hear it?"
Sure, why not?
"It's called 'Sweater Vest,' " said Biafra said before breaking into song.
Gonna get me a sweater vest
Jim Tressel is the best
Much better than the rest
Gonna get me a sweater vest.
That's it, I ask?
"It isn't 'Stairway to Heaven,' " Biafra acknowledged.
Personally, I liked "I Peed in Ann Arbor's Water Supply" better.
Bo Biafra admits that if the Live Schembechler showed up at the Dead Schembechlers concert he couldn't predict what might happen.
"I'd have to check my biblical references," Biafra said. "What happened when Satan showed up in heaven?"
The reality is, deep down, Biafra respects Bo Schembechler the way Michigan always respects Ohio State, and Ohio State always respects Michigan. Tressel even claims he grew up a fan of both teams. You can like both teams?
"I think if you like the game of football," Tressel said, "you can."
In character, Biafra scoffs at that. But then again, isn't naming your band after Schembechler – even a dead Schembechler – the ultimate sign of respect? You wouldn't name it after a lousy coach.
Of course, considering Bo's recent emergency heart procedure, the prophecy almost came true.
"It's all right," said Schembechler of his namesake band. "At least until the one guy was quoted as saying, 'He almost joined us a few weeks ago.' "
With that, The Live Schembechler smiled at the joke, getting the last laugh on the Dead Schembechlers – the first of many small victories on both sides in the biggest week ever for the biggest rivalry ever.
