Let me tell you something, folks. I have watched this game, this beautiful, chaotic, unforgiving game of college basketball, for longer than some of these so-called “athletic directors” have been drawing breath. I have seen programs rise and fall, dynasties forged and shattered, all because of the decisions made not just on the court, but in the hallowed, often self-serving, halls of power. And what I am witnessing right now, what I *feel* in my bones emanating from Ann Arbor, is not just a pattern of unfortunate events. No, what I am seeing, what I am *declaring* right here, right now, is an unmitigated disaster, a crisis of leadership, and an unprecedented hemorrhage of success that threatens to undo everything the Michigan Wolverines have fought so hard to achieve.
We are talking about a program, a *university*, that just won a national championship in men’s basketball, a title that was supposed to be the culmination of years of tireless work, a moment of unbridled triumph. And what happens next? What is the immediate aftermath of reaching the mountaintop? Their coach, Dusty May, the architect of that improbable run, the man who brought the trophy home, he is GONE. Vanished. Out the door. Three months after the greatest achievement of his professional life, he has packed his bags and headed to the NBA, leaving Michigan once again scrambling, once again picking up the pieces.
Now, I understand the allure of the NBA. I understand the money, the prestige, the challenge. But let me be crystal clear about this: this is not just an isolated incident. This is not a stroke of bad luck. This is a recurring nightmare, a systemic failure that has plagued Michigan’s athletic department, specifically under the watch of Warde Manuel, for far too long. We are talking about the *second* time in less than three years that a national championship-winning coach has abandoned Ann Arbor for the professional ranks. Jim Harbaugh did it just a few months ago after bringing home the College Football Playoff trophy, and now Dusty May follows suit. This is not normal, people. This is an affront to the very idea of building a legacy, of sustaining excellence in college athletics.
Let’s rewind, shall we? Let’s go back to 2019, when a foundational figure, John Beilein, a man who had resurrected Michigan basketball from the ashes, who took them to two national title games, decided to leave. He had built something special, a perennial contender, a program with a clear identity. And then, he left for the Cleveland Cavaliers. I remember the shockwaves that went through the college basketball world. Here was a veteran coach, nearing the end of his career, making a leap that many questioned. “I’m excited about the challenge of coaching in the NBA,” Beilein said at the time. “I’ve always enjoyed the game at the highest level, and I’m looking forward to working with the talented young players on the Cavaliers roster.” A challenge, indeed. It turned out to be an ill-fated decision, lasting just 54 games. But the damage to Michigan was done. The late timing of his departure, six weeks after the season ended, threw the program into chaos.
And who did Warde Manuel turn to? He turned to a prodigal son, a member of the legendary Fab Five, Juwan Howard. I watched that introductory press conference, just like many of you did. I saw the tears in his eyes, the raw emotion, the undeniable passion he had for that block ‘M’. “Tears of joy,” he said, struggling to compose himself, his voice thick with emotion. I believed him. I wanted to believe him. The narrative was perfect: the beloved alum returning to lead his alma mater, to continue the winning tradition. And for a moment, it worked. His second team became a No. 1 seed, reached the Elite Eight. Everything was pointing up. He brought in a top recruiting class. But then, it began to unravel. The on-court performance deteriorated, the recruiting suffered, and then came the incident, the absolute spectacle of him striking a Wisconsin assistant in the handshake line. It was an act of negligence, an utter lack of control that I simply cannot fathom from a head coach. His last two teams went a dismal 26-40. The promise, the passion, the “tears of joy” – they all flamed out. And in 2024, he was fired.
So, Michigan had to go searching again. And they found Dusty May, a rising star, a man who had taken Florida Atlantic to back-to-back NCAA Tournament appearances, including an improbable Final Four run. This was supposed to be the new beginning, the steady hand, the long-term solution. They invested in him, they believed in him, and he DELIVERED. He brought them the ultimate prize, the national championship. And what is the reward for Michigan? More instability. More uncertainty. A program that should be celebrating, that should be planning its next dynasty, is instead back at square one, desperately searching for a coach.
Now, let’s talk about Jim Harbaugh. Oh, Jim Harbaugh. The man, the myth, the legend who finally brought the national title back to the football program after a quarter-century drought. His tenure was a soap opera, a rollercoaster of epic proportions. Sign-stealing scandals, recruiting violations, suspensions – it was a circus, but he delivered the championship. And what did he do after reaching the pinnacle? He left. He bolted for the NFL. Just three weeks after the confetti fell, Harbaugh was gone, off to the Los Angeles Chargers. “My love for Michigan, my players and my fans will endure forever,” Harbaugh declared in his farewell statement. “I’ve been blessed to coach football for 38 years… My mission has always been to develop young men, and their parents have entrusted me with that responsibility. Thank you, Michigan. I will forever be a loyal Wolverine.” Loyalty? Let me tell you something, when you pack your bags the second the job is done, when you leave your alma mater holding the bag with NCAA sanctions looming, that is not loyalty, Mr. Harbaugh. That is opportunism. That is a strategic departure designed to escape the consequences of your own making.
And what was Warde Manuel’s response to Harbaugh’s departure? “Jim Harbaugh has been an incredible force for Michigan Athletics, and I want to thank him for his leadership, dedication, and success,” Manuel stated. “He has consistently elevated the performance of our football program, culminating in a national championship.” An “incredible force,” indeed. An incredible force that left you in a lurch, Mr. Manuel. An incredible force that left you with a massive hole to fill and a program under the microscope for alleged cheating. And now, just months later, the exact same scenario has played out with Dusty May.
This is not a coincidence, folks. This is a pattern. And it speaks volumes about the state of affairs in Ann Arbor. What is it about Michigan that makes these championship-winning coaches run for the hills the moment they achieve the ultimate success? Is it the compensation? Is it the institutional support, or lack thereof? Is it the pressure? Or is it something deeper, something endemic to the athletic department’s culture that makes it impossible to retain elite talent?
I have watched this league for decades. I have seen coaches come and go, but this level of churn at the very apex of success, this is unprecedented. You win a national championship, the highest honor in the sport, and your coach is gone in a flash. Not once, but TWICE in a matter of months! This is not just bad luck. THIS IS AN INSTITUTIONAL CRISIS!
Warde Manuel, I am looking at you. I am watching you. You have overseen trips to the mountaintop, yes. But you have also overseen two unprecedented coaching departures right after winning national titles. You have overseen the flameout of a beloved alum. You have overseen a football program embroiled in scandal. WHAT IS GOING ON IN ANN ARBOR?
This is not about the coaches, not entirely. Dusty May is a brilliant coach, and I wish him well in Dallas. Jim Harbaugh, for all his quirks, delivered a title. John Beilein built a program from nothing. The problem isn’t that these coaches aren’t successful; the problem is that Michigan CANNOT KEEP THEM. They cannot build on their success. They cannot establish a lasting dynasty because the moment they achieve the ultimate goal, the architects abandon ship.
What does it mean to win a championship if you cannot retain the very person who led you there? What does it mean for the legacy of Michigan athletics if every peak is immediately followed by a precipitous fall into uncertainty? This is not sustainable. This is not how you build a program that stands the test of time. This is how you become a revolving door for coaches looking for a stepping stone, a place to prove themselves before moving on to greener pastures.
MICHIGAN IS PAYING A STEEP, UNACCEPTABLE PRICE FOR ITS CHAMPIONSHIP ERA! THEY ARE WINNING TROPHIES, YES, BUT THEY ARE LOSING THE VERY SOUL OF THEIR PROGRAMS. THEY ARE LOSING THE STABILITY, THE CONTINUITY, THE ABILITY TO BUILD ON SUCCESS. AND UNTIL WARDE MANUEL AND THE LEADERSHIP IN ANN ARBOR FIGURE OUT WHY THEIR CHAMPIONSHIP COACHES CANNOT WAIT TO GET OUT THE DOOR, MICHIGAN WILL FOREVER BE STUCK IN THIS CYCLE OF UNCERTAINTY, FOREVER CELEBRATING FLEETING GLORY WHILE THE REST OF THE COLLEGE SPORTS WORLD BUILDS LASTING DYNASTIES. THIS IS A FAILURE OF LEADERSHIP. A FAILURE TO RETAIN. AND AN UTTER CATASTROPHE FOR THE WOLVERINES!
