Inside Jim Harbaugh's years-long fight with the NCAA – and with Michigan. (Really long article)

Why Harbaugh’s in LA

That very night, at 9:55 p.m., sensing a slowdown on the university side, Tom Mars had sent a text to Timothy G. Lynch, a Michigan vice president and its general counsel. Mars had not heard a word from Lynch all day— unusual since the court hearing was two days away.

In his text Mars wrote, FYI, if Michigan is even considering withdrawing its lawsuit or doing anything that may deprive Jim of his day in court on Friday we would expect the courtesy of knowing Michigan’s intentions ASAP.

At five minutes after midnight Mars said his cell phone rang. It was Lynch, telling Mars he’d been quietly thinking before making the call. In so many words, Lynch informed Mars that Michigan had reached a settlement with the Big Ten and was withdrawing its lawsuit. It was just about the last thing Mars, bracing for a legal battle, wanted or needed to hear.

The next morning on a conference call, Mars, Jeff Klein, Harbaugh’s longtime contract lawyer, and a local counsel in Ann Arbor tried to make sense of an eleventh-hour move. Michigan had encouraged Harbaugh to join the lawsuit as a plaintiff and agreed to pay his legal fees. The fact that Michigan had failed to inform its head football coach, his personal attorneys, or outside counsel of its decision only added to the confusion and anger. Bottom line, Michigan didn’t have the legal right to dismiss the lawsuit without Harbaugh’s consent.

Later that morning Mars said he reached out again to Tim Lynch and asked, for clarity’s sake, if Michigan wanted to dismiss the lawsuit on Harbaugh’s behalf as well. “Absolutely,” Lynch said.

“You can’t do that,” Mars said. And that’s when things got heated.

Lynch told Mars in no uncertain terms this was not a negotiation. He needed Harbaugh’s consent, and if he didn’t get it, Michigan’s wasn’t paying his attorney’s fees.

You already signed an indemnification agreement, Mars fired back. “This isn’t negotiable, Tom,” Lynch repeated, according to Mars. “If you screw up this deal or Jim Harbaugh screws this up, we will rain fire down on Jim Harbaugh.”

When do you need answer?” Mars asked. “Right (expletive) now,” he was told.

“Tim,” said Mars, “we’re both lawyers. I need to get my client’s consent. I can’t consent to dismiss the lawsuit.”

“Well, you better (expletive) hurry up and get it.”

“How much time do I have?”

“Eighteen minutes.”

At 1:15 p.m., eighteen minutes later on the dot, Mars called back. He had spoken with Harbaugh, who had provided his consent, reluctantly.

“Not because he agrees with it,” Mars told Lynch, “but because you said he doesn’t have any choice.”

To add one more icy layer to an already frosted cake, that same afternoon the university formally announced it had ended its pending legal dispute with the Big Ten, and here’s the frosting: the language of the statement made it appear the decision was Harbaugh’s idea—not Michigan’s.

“The Conference agreed to close its investigation, and the University and Coach Harbaugh agreed to accept the three-game suspension,” the pivotal paragraph began. “Coach Harbaugh, with the University’s support, decided to accept this sanction to return the focus to our student-athletes and their performance on the field.”

“Big (expletive) lie,” said Mars.

If anything marked the beginning of the end of Jim Harbaugh’s time in Ann Arbor, one would be hard-pressed to find a more salient moment. (Lynch did not respond to multiple requests for comments about his exchange with Mars.)

Warde Manuel is one of the worst things to ever happen to Michigan athletics. It’s wild to look at what all he allowed to collapse across the university.