Instead, Welsch decides to go in and suck Haucks a$$ for a while, and give us an article with very little substance, which makes me like like Hauck even less than I already do. He comes accross as very arrogant, and immature.
On the other side of things, it was a great idea for a story and I applaud Welsch for trying new things in addition to the standard football reports and player profiles.
Commentary: Hauck not so bad outside of rivalry
By JEFF WELSCH, Chronicle Sports Editor
MISSOULA - It is only mid-August, and already Bobby Hauck has produced his first upset of the season, if such a feat is ever possible with the the University of Montana football juggernaut.
UM's third-year coach has set aside valuable time, on the day after fall practice has begun and with so much work to do, for an informal interview in his spacious office with a reporter from, of all places ...
Bozeman.
And get this.
He's friendly. He's smiling. He's laughing.
He's as engaging as your favorite uncle.
When you've been weaned on a year's worth of spin in the Gallatin Valley, your first inclination is to ask this man, "Who are you, and what have you done with Bobby Hauck?"
You know.
The lemon-sucking lout who wouldn't give the other Big Sky Conference program in the state credit for picking its school colors, much less beating the Grizzlies.
The personality-challenged oaf who'd have his linemen push a broken-down team bus over the hill to the familiar Yellowstone River valley before ever leaving valuable dollars in, you know, that town.
The pompous egomaniac who won't return phone calls to Bozeman sports-talk shows.
The arrogant brat who would sooner sell his twin children into slavery than utter "Montana State" or "Bobcats" or "MSU."
Hauck tosses his head back and laughs at perceptions he's made little attempt to reverse.
"We have a little fun," he says, an impish twinkle in his eyes. "If you can't stir the pot and have a little fun ... when you speak of rivalries, we have a great one. It's special. So you might as well enjoy that."
This is not the Bobby Hauck they talk about in the Gallatin Valley.
This is the Bobby Hauck they know in the Bitterroot Valley.
East of the divide, those who put the rivalry on par with war, poverty and pestilence in matters of importance view Hauck as the face of the Evil Empire, leader of the infidels, the Great Satan himself.
And yes, even rational observers sometimes puzzle over what seems to be an excessive loathing of the land-grant school; of course, it doesn't help the image that he often looks on TV as if he's having his wisdom teeth extracted.
How can a three-sport star from Big Timber, for crying out loud, be so disdainful of his ranch-country roots, even if his father, Bob, a teacher and coach, was no more connected to ag and engineering as, say, the town librarian?
Hauck, dressed casually in a polo shirt and shorts, seizes another opportunity to massage the rivalry.
"First, I like to think everywhere in the state of Montana is Grizzly country," he winks, then adds: "And, I'm a third-generation alum."
His grandfather is a Griz. His father is a Griz. His brother, Tim, is a Griz and coaches UM's safeties. His uncle, Tom, is a Griz and coaches defensive tackles.
Truth be known, Hauck has pleasured in inciting the rivalry since third grade. He trash-talked by sliding notes under the doors of Big Timber teachers who wore the wrong colors, promising that "the Griz are going to get it done."
"Sixteen cousins went to school here," he says, "and most of their parents."
Yes, but surely, with all those ties to rural Montana, there must be somebody in the clan, somewhere, who proudly wears the colors of ...
"I think there's one cousin," Hauck says somberly. "We don't talk about him much."
He laughs again.
No, this isn't the Bobby Hauck we talk about, or perhaps want to talk about, in the Gallatin Valley.
On the east side, Hauck will never be forgiven for either neglecting or refusing to accord the home team credit for a 27-20 defeat in his first Griz-Other Guys showdown two years ago.
Never mind that he had stepped into enormous coaching shoes, the expectation of Big Sky championships, national titles and a full 23,183-seat Washington-Grizzly Stadium squarely on his shoulders.
That The Other School had ended a 16-game losing streak in Joe Glenn's final season only slightly eased the strain in a football-obsessed town where "you can never get away from it."
Now, after taking the Grizzlies to the Division I-AA title game a year ago, he is more at ease.
"It's much less stressful," he says.
Won't change his approach to the rivalry, though.
After all, he rightfully notes, it's only the coaching staffs at both schools whose livelihoods are on at stake.
For the fans, it is, or should be, a game.
Fun. Remember?
So, as Hauck is asked playfully about his unwillingness to utter The Other School's names, he skillfully, laughingly, engagingly tap-dances.
Then conversation turns again to Big Timber roots.
"Obviously, growing up down in that neck of the woods," Hauck says, "I had a lot of friends who were ..."
Yes? ... Yes?
"... MSU alums."
Stop the presses.
It's another mid-August upset, and why not?
When your program is above such possibilities on the field, you take them where you can, even with a reporter from the dark side.
