Michigan’s Fisher Is Having a Ball

ANN ARBOR, Mich. —  Last Christmas, Steve Fisher gave his wife Angie a telephone-answering machine; coincidentally, she presented him with the same gift. One machine was immediately returned, the other was to be used on just two occasions: during dinners and when the family was away on vacation.

But back during the holidays, Fisher was an assistant to Michigan basketball coach Bill Frieder. Now, following Frieder’s decision to take a job at Arizona State just before the start of the NCAA tournament, he’s running the show himself and there’s a third purpose for the contraption.

The Wolverines, expected to fall apart, have advanced to the Final Four, where they’ll meet Big Ten rival Illinois Saturday at the Seattle Kingdome. While clearly thrilled at the turn of events, Fisher winces at how the machine is currently being used.

“There have been so many people calling,” he said. “It’s hard to put people off, but everything has to be put on hold for now. ... I never dreamed that I’d have the machine on, sitting there listening to the person who’s calling, but I’m doing it -- sometimes I feel pretty guilty.”

Coaching at a major university in the shadow of big cities such as Detroit and Chicago, Fisher, 44, hasn’t lost the touch of his rural Illinois upbringing. For that, he says he thanks his parents, Louise and George, who can probably do without what Fisher calls “my celebrity status.”

“The TV station from 50 miles away came to my town (Herrin, Ill.) and my father wouldn’t let ‘em in the door,” he said, smiling. “Now my brothers, they’ll let anybody who knocks inside.”

Perhaps Fisher’s parents, like nearly everyone else who has been captivated by the story, are still getting used to what’s transpired. After the Wolverines defeated Virginia to earn their berth in Seattle, CBS’ Tim Brant introduced him to the nation as “Steve Frieder.”

Things aren’t much better here in town. Frieder’s picture is still prominently displayed in the Wolverines’ Crisler Arena, right next to Athletic Director Bo Schembechler’s, who ruled Frieder’s new job cost him the privilege of coaching Michigan in the tournament.

Frieder said he understood Schembechler’s decision to immediately dismiss him, but he still showed up in Atlanta, sitting in the stands, for Michigan’s opening round wins over Xavier and South Alabama.

“Certainly it’s an emotional thing for me that I haven’t been a visible part of the last two weeks, but I’ve been there in thought and spirit,” Frieder said in a statement released by Arizona State. “I’m extremely happy for Steve Fisher and (assistant) Mike Boyd and the entire Michigan team. You have to understand I hired both Steve and Mike and they were my closest friends in Ann Arbor.”

Fisher said he still talks by phone to his former boss, who already has moved to Arizona and has hit the road in search of players to help improve the Sun Devils’ four-year record of 50-62.

Monday, Fisher said there have been times the last two weeks he’s wished he’d kept both answering machines. That’s perhaps as close as his affability’s come to slipping under the stress of his sudden celebrity.

“I’ve really enjoyed everything about it so far, but then again, things couldn’t have gone better for me,” he said. “We haven’t blown a 20-point lead or put a Demetrius Calip in when he hadn’t played before and then watched him turn the ball over to lose a game for us. Maybe in 10 years I’ll be more callous, but right now all I have to do is nod my head and try and look humble.”

Really, Fisher is still marveling at the path his career has taken. A starter in just two games during his playing days at Illinois State, Fisher, was prepared to seek his fortune in that area when a friend, Leo Wothke, asked him to join him at Rich East High School in south suburban Chicago.

Shortly after Fisher arrived, Wothke left to become an assistant at Illinois, leaving Fisher in charge. Rich East had a 141-70 record during his eight years there, and although the team never won the state championship, the coach felt life was pretty good.

“I was the kind of guy that could have stayed at Rich East forever,” he said. “I had been there a long time, had met my wife there and the people liked us. We drove ourselves into the rut there a little more every year.”