One of the first questions Michigan president Mark Schlissel should be asking today is this: "How will we ever get this right from play to play in a Saturday instant when we can't even get it right between Saturday and Monday?"
He should ask it while sifting through more failures in Michigan's concussion protocol than can be easily counted. If the school's admitted mishandlings of quarterback Shane Morris' concussion were fumbles on a field, they could be strung together for an award-winning blooper clip.
Except that there's not much humor in institutional dysfunction.
Schlissel, who is only eight months into the job, has to know fixing the problem isn't just about executing different protocols and policies. It also has to be about the necessary speed of that execution.
Athletic director Dave Brandon's statement makes it clear the communication breakdowns began the moment Morris was struck in the facemask by a defender who led with the crown of his helmet. What Brandon, or any AD, wants is this: a series of observations, actions and decisions igniting after a whistle, and producing the only acceptable outcome before the following snap is taken. And Schlissel is looking at a systemic collapse that couldn't even get word to Wolverines coach Brady Hoke that his quarterback had a concussion in time for his Monday news conference -- two days after the game.
That's a gap wider than the Big House.
And it only looks wider when your head coach says a statement from the medical staff is forthcoming, and it doesn't happen.
It looks wider when you release an official statement at roughly 1 a.m.
It looks wider when the hit in question draws a personal foul and the immediate attention of the crowd.
And it certainly looks wider when a sideline neurologist can't get immediate word to the right person quickly enough that a player needs a check.
Here's an idea: How much would it cost to add the neurologist to the headset conversation? Give him a master button to override all channels to declare a player's health in question, instantly reaching coaches and anyone else who needs to know. Except in the case of medical emergency, he could otherwise be a silent addition. At least then, there's a better chance to get someone off the field before the next play. This could work everywhere but Michigan, where Hoke, of course, doesn't wear a headset.
Hoke looked bad a number of different ways Monday, but none worse than when he said only an ankle injury would have prevented Morris from practicing on Sunday. Practice with a concussion Hoke presumably still wouldn't have known about. Brandon noted communication failures everywhere in the line of staff between medical experts and Hoke. Even if Schlissel trusts those already in place to create a better protocol system, that doesn't mean he must trust them to run the drill right in 20-30 seconds the next time a player's health is on the line.
And if he doesn't have that faith, Hoke might not be the only one whose days at Michigan are numbered. Schlissel is credited with an M.D. and a Ph.D. at the end of his name.
Men like that have learned plenty about accountability.
*Follow Chase Goodbread on Twitter **@ChaseGoodbread.*
