The Tuesday after the death of Bo Schembechler, I attended the memorial service at Michigan Stadium.  It was both a wonderful celebration of Bo’s life and a strong reminder of something all football fans should remember.

At the service was current Michigan coach – and former Schembechler assistant – Lloyd Carr.  This is a man who, as the head coach of a high-profile division 1 football program, is a bit of a lightning rod.  When he loses, as he did five times last year, he is criticized; when he wins, as he has eleven times this year, he might be praised; in either circumstance, his every coaching move is analyzed — particularly by excitable fans.

In that context, it’s far too easy for the fans to forget that Carr is simply a person, just like everyone else who fills the stadium on football Saturdays.  It’s too easy for fans to find a receptive website or radio show and excoriate Carr for his failure to be the most brilliant coach in the history of college football.

To be fair, Carr didn’t take this job under any illusions.  He had to know the coach at a high-profile football school would be under a harsh glare at all times.  He took the job, and he has developed the thick skin he needs to keep the job.  But he didn’t surrender his humanity when he donned that headset, and that skin isn’t impenetrable.

That’s why his presence at the Schembechler memorial held significance for me.  Throughout the service, I found my gaze being drawn back to him.  When he wasn’t at the microphone, he was sitting between Jim Brandstatter and Dan Dierdorf, listening to the memories of Bo and, in fact, behaving just like a real person.  Like everyone else, he alternated between joviality and solemnity as he remembered his former boss.  He wasn’t a stern football coach, seemingly impervious to outside criticism; he was simply a man who had just buried a good friend.

That’s what I want us fans to remember the next time we want to tell Carr how much he has failed at his job.  He’s not just a football coach; he’s a person.

I’m not saying we should never disagree with a coaching decision; I know I did just that with three different coaches in a recent post.  But use tact and restraint.  Be careful.  He might not hear or read your specific comment, but he feels the pressure.  Don’t make it unbearable.

And remember: if we were held to the same standards to which too many of us want to hold high-profile coaches, then we’d all be failures.