It was a Monday morning like so many others since Jonathan Datz began working for the district attorney's office in Broomfield, Colo.
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His assignment this April day -- as a deputy DA in a town halfway between Denver and Boulder -- was to follow up on a minor theft, talking to the victim of a car break-in and prepping her for the trial.
But when the victim wasn't home, Datz and other members of his office were stuck killing time with her husband. And in just a few minutes, Datz learned the information he had craved for 10 1/2 years -- and it had nothing to do with criminal justice.
At last, he had confirmation that his quick thinking -- and that of two other student managers -- helped preserve Michigan's undefeated football season in 1997.
'Your heart skips a few beats'
In 1997, the Wolverines were coming off four straight four-loss seasons, the first two under Gary Moeller, the last two under Lloyd Carr. Datz, a senior from Philadelphia majoring in political science, was one of the bevy of managers assigned to handle the menial tasks associated with Michigan football.
"The job of a football manager probably hasn't changed much," said Eddie Magnus, who was a head manager that season. "They help organizing things during the week, the practices, setting up drills, making sure practice runs smoothly, all the way to helping out with travel and doing wakeup on the morning of the game days."
At home games, Datz and Mike Youtan, a senior from southern California, worked the opponents' sideline as ball boys, keeping their mouths shut and staying out of the way.
Until the fifth game.
It was unseasonably warm for Oct. 11. The day started in bright sunshine with Aaron Ward and Mike Knuble -- Red Wings who had played at U-M -- parading the Stanley Cup around the field at the Big House.
The Wolverines were ranked sixth in the country. Northwestern was 2-4.
But Michigan was struggling to move the ball, holding only a 13-3 lead at halftime.
Northwestern had upset Michigan the previous two seasons. Now Datz and Youtan had an idea why.
"There was a guy on their sideline that day, and he had our signals down pat," Datz said. "Every time, he would scream into the defense what we're going to do -- pass or run -- and he was almost always right. ...
"They were blowing up draws, calling our counters and destroying our screen passes -- all a big part of our plays that year. I was just screaming mad. Youtan and I are thinking to ourselves, 'This guy has us.' "
They somehow needed to inform the U-M coaches. So early in the third quarter, according to the managers, Youtan ran around the field to talk with Magnus.
Magnus' job was to hold the cords to Carr's headphones. He, too, was expected to keep his mouth shut, stay out of the way and keep the wires from entangling the boss.
But Magnus decided the information was so important that he had to approach Carr.
"Your heart skips a few beats," he said. "But it's a fairly stressful issue if they know all our plays."
So he took the plunge and told Carr what Datz and Youtan had observed.
"I absolutely remember that," Carr said recently. "The reason I do remember it is I don't ever remember anybody else offering advice or information during a game.
"Those are all bright guys that get into those positions. But that's the only time I remember one telling me something."
But that still wasn't enough for the coaches to change their signal calling. So later in the quarter, Datz said he ran around the field to repeat the message to Magnus.
The play that finally sold the U-M coaches on the need to adjust came on a third-and-25 with less than three minutes left in the third quarter. That's when U-M tailback Clarence Williams ran a sweep -- an odd call for that down and distance -- and two Wildcats grabbed him behind the line of scrimmage.
At the time, Scott Dreisbach, U-M's backup quarterback, was wearing a headset and signaling the plays. So to confuse the Wildcats, third-stringer Jason Kapsner put on a headset and started signaling, too. (Had the usual backup, Tom Brady, not undergone an appendectomy a few days earlier, he might have been added as well.)
The Wolverines opened the fourth quarter with a 12-play, 70-yard scoring drive over five minutes, capped by quarterback Brian Griese escaping a sack to hit tight end Jerame Tuman for a 20-6 lead.
"That gave us control of the game," Carr recalled.
It was just the fifth victory in a season that would have so many more highlights. But after two seasons of Northwestern handing U-M its first loss at the same juncture, when it was ranked sixth each time, the 23-6 triumph was vindication and more.
"We've had that on our minds all year," defensive back Charles Woodson said afterward.
'The ball boys are on to me'
Until Appalachian State knocked off Michigan last September, the Northwestern games in 1995 and 1996 rated among the biggest upsets in U-M history.
While those Wildcats had talent, it seemed improbable that a program that hadn't beaten U-M since 1965 would take out the Wolverines two years in a row.
Having an idea about U-M's plays certainly helped.
"That was what I would do," said David Hansburg, a Northwestern graduate assistant those years. "If I could see them signal in plays, I'd watch. This was no Spygate, and there was no video of anybody. I equated it to being like baseball when you've got a runner on second base; it's part of the game."
Using the naked eye to steal signals has been done for years in college football and is not illegal.
In 1995 and '96, Hansburg said, all he had to do was watch U-M center Rod Payne, a one-handed snapper who apparently placed his opposite hand on the ground for a running play and on his thigh for a passing play.
When the Northwestern coaches pointed at the ground or the sky, All-America linebacker Pat Fitzgerald spread the word on the field. (Fitzgerald, now Northwestern's head coach, declined to comment for this story.)
In 1997, Payne was in the NFL, so Hansburg spent his time watching Dreisbach and was pretty sure he had U-M's pattern down by halftime. But it wasn't easy to hide his knowledge.
"I remember thinking that the ball boys were snuggling up to me," he said. "There is no subtlety to it. If you get a run call or you know it's a screen, the only way to get it to the players fast enough is to yell.
"In the third quarter, (the Wolverines) scouted it out with their coaches watching; I had them dead to rights. But late in the third and early in the fourth, I remember thinking the ball boys are on to me. ...
"Finally, they moved to multiple signal callers. They figured it out and adjusted. I keep trying, but I'm dead."
'I don't even think I told my father'
The Wolverines, of course, continued marching to an undefeated season and a national championship, their first in 50 years. Before long, the Northwestern game was just a footnote. In fact, within hours, it wasn't even the biggest news on campus. Later that afternoon, athletic director Tom Goss announced he had fired basketball coach Steve Fisher in the wake of the Ed Martin scandal.
On Jan. 1, 1998, Datz, Youtan and Magnus celebrated in Pasadena, Calif., hugging each other on the Rose Bowl field after the Wolverines defeated Washington State.
Carr, whose four-loss seasons and consecutive bowl defeats hadn't won over fans, went on to become a Michigan coaching legend. Only Bo Schembechler and Fielding H. Yost had won more games by the time Carr retired after last season.
Hansburg stayed with Northwestern coach Gary Barnett, moving with him to Colorado and continuing to outsmart opponents until leaving college sports in late 2006. (For conspiracy theorists, he said Michigan State's plays were even easier to steal than Michigan's.) With his wife, Holly, Hansburg now runs the Rocky Mountain Day Camp for boys and girls ages 5-12 in Superior, Colo.
Magnus, a Framingham, Mass., native, works for a private equity firm in Chicago. Youtan is a business development manager for a Web development firm in the Los Angeles suburbs, near where he grew up.
Datz and Youtan stayed close, chatting often about the Northwestern game but almost never discussing it with outsiders.
"It became one of the things we were embarrassed to tell because it reeked of someone trying to enhance their importance," Datz said. "We kept that story and told it amongst ourselves, but I don't even think I told my father, who is an obsessed Michigan fan."
And that's where the story probably would have stayed -- until April 28.
'Now THAT is an unbelievable story'
Datz arrived at the Hansburg home in Superior to meet not with David but with Holly, who was nervous about testifying. Since she was expected in at any moment -- she was running morning errands -- Datz made small talk with her husband.
Because many Colorado residents are transplants, Datz asked how Hansburg got to Colorado (with Barnett), then began the rapid-fire rebuilding of the previous decade.
Did you work at Northwestern in 1997? (Yes.) Do you remember the Michigan game? (Yes.) Did you have a guy stealing our signs? (Yes.) Who was he?
"Until that moment, to him, it was legend in his own mind," said Hansburg, who proudly revealed himself. "He was so excited, he pulled out his cell phone and started calling someone."
That was Youtan, who got a voicemail saying, in effect, Datz had some incredible information.
"For 10-11 years," Hansburg said, "he was telling this story, and no one would believe him."
For the sign stealing to be discussed is one thing. But for the two principal figures to meet in a state where neither of them had lived previously, for such a random event to bring them together, and for Holly Hansburg to be just late enough for them to fill time ... what are the odds?
Greater than Northwestern beating Michigan in consecutive seasons?
"This is one of the stranger full circles you'll ever come across," Magnus said. "For two fundamental people involved in such a random way, that would be difficult to top."
On the ESPN broadcast of the game, with 13:38 remaining in the third quarter, you can see for yourself on the Northwestern sideline. There is a young man, with a backward hat and glasses, taking notes behind Barnett. Hansburg.
As coaches say -- the tape is the truth.
Within a few hours of the meeting, Youtan started an e-mail chain that swept the student managers from the '97 team. Some passed it on to friends. Someone sent it to a wide receiver from that Northwestern team, who hit reply and boasted of Hansburg's skill at stealing signals.
In the past decade, Carr thought he had heard every tale of Michigan's magical season -- from the team at their meetings and reunions, from his staff in private moments and from the thousands of fans who stop him at dinner, at the store and on trips around the world.
But when told of how Jonathan Datz met David Hansburg -- how the alert student manager met the clever graduate assistant -- even Carr paused.
"Now THAT is an unbelievable story," he said.
Contact MARK SNYDER at 313-223-3210 or msnyder@freepress.com.
