Other articles by Greg Hansen:

Greg Hansen Sunday Notebook : Black learns golf's secret Greg Hansen : Tubac's 'Triangle' a 'Wreck' for golfers Greg Hansen : First stop Indianapolis Greg Hansen : Historically, 44th draft picks have brief or no NBA history Greg Hansen Sunday Notebook : USC, O'Neill a good fit Greg Hansen : For Miller, hard work is a legacy from father Greg Hansen: El Rio's No. 8 tee shot is intimidating Greg Hansen : ASU's Tucson pipeline pumps as rich as ever Greg Hansen : Tucson's Tyler appears calm before the storm at Bethpage Greg Hansen : Friends for life reunite

Administrative & Professional
Jorgensen Brooks Group
Counselor Mechanical
Komatsu Equipment Co
Resident Field Mechanic Administrative & Professional
Tucson Urban League
CEO/President Finance and Accounting
Charles E. Gillman Company
Accounting Specialist Trades/Construction
RANCHO RESORT
MAINTANANCE POSITION Sales and Marketing
Everready Glass
Sales Reps

A lot of people don't like Dennis Erickson. Why? Because he is a drifter.

He passed "go" and collected more than $20 million. Way more. He drifted from Idaho to Wyoming to Wazzu to Miami to Seattle to Oregon State to San Francisco back to Idaho and, finally, to Arizona State. That's a quarter-century of rootlessness.

For some reason, American football fans don't like a serial mover.

Erickson is not, however, without merit nor does he lack professional respect. Arizona athletic director Jim Livengood considers him a chum of the first sort.

"My wife, Linda, was in the same high school graduating class with Dennis in Everett, Wash.," Livengood says. "So Dennis has always been like family. He's one of the good guys."

Livengood became so close to the Erickson family that he still calls Erickson's father by his nickname, "Pink."

You won't hear many of those friendly testimonials, Wildcats chatting up Sun Devils, 72 hours before the Territorial Cup. This is different.

In 1987, Livengood was the first-year athletic director at Washington State. Erickson was his first-year football coach. It was one of those would-the-last-guy-out-of-town-please-turn-out-the-lights scenarios.

One by one, they had all left WSU.

Sam Jankovich, the hard-driving athletic director, went to Miami. George Raveling, the larger-than-Pullman basketball coach, replaced Lute Olson at Iowa. Jim Walden, the outspoken football coach, chose employment at Iowa State.

That left the place to Erickson and Livengood. They were kids in the big leagues, or as much as you can be in the big leagues in Pullman, Wash.

Erickson's first Wazzu football team went 3-7-1. Livengood's athletic department ran a debt of about $800,000. For an encore, the '88 Cougars were generously predicted to finish ninth in the Pac-10.

Erickson was 41, Livengood 43. They inherited a dreadful, fiscally motivated '88 schedule that opened with perilous road games against Illinois, Minnesota and Tennessee. About all Erickson and Livengood had were each other; they were set up to fail.

"I learned a lot about Dennis that year," Livengood says. "I learned he's a very good football coach. I'm not saying that this week to rile our people up. That's just the way it is."

Into each life, a little sun must shine, and in 1988 the moon was in the seventh house, Jupiter aligned with Mars and peace (or the football gods) guided the Cougars to an absurdly fortunate 9-3 season that launched both Erickson and Livengood into college athletics prominence.

Here's how fortunate the Erickson-Livengood union was in 1988:

Minnesota went 2-7-2. Tennessee opened the year 0-6. Illinois struggled to win six games. USC wasn't on WSU's schedule and rival Washington (6-5) experienced its worst season since 1976.

The Cougars rolled.

No team in the Pac-10 had three players better than the threesome Erickson inherited from Walden: quarterback Timm Rosenbach would become an NFL starter, tailback Steve Broussard was the league's top rusher (1,280 yards) and tackle Mike Utley was a star.

By the time the Cougars went to the Aloha Bowl, the man who had hired Livengood out of tiny Ephrata High School, ex-WSU athletic director Jankovich, surreptitiously flew to Honolulu to offer Erickson the coaching job at Miami.

"I turned Sam down on two occasions," said Erickson. "At the end, my coaches would tell me, 'Are you crazy?' "

Let the drifting begin. The Hurricanes were coming off 11-1, 12-0 and 11-1 seasons. By the time Livengood flew from Hawaii to Pullman, he had lost his football coach to his mentor and, well, yada, yada, yada, here they are today.

Erickson, 61, is a long way in both hair color and playing weight from his All-Big Sky Conference quarterbacking days of 1967 and 1968 at Montana State. He has rallied Arizona State from a ghastly six-game losing streak. If the Sun Devils beat Arizona on Saturday, no one will roll over in shock.

Livengood, 63, also a college quarterback (in Erickson's hometown, at Everett Junior College), has survived the most turbulent year of his 14-year tenure as Arizona's athletic director — the most turbulent year of almost anybody's tenure as an athletic director. He has his football program positioned to play in its first bowl game since 1998.

"It has been a long and winding road for both of us," Livengood said with a laugh. (Give him points for still being able to laugh).

Both have been scarred up some. Erickson was fired by the Seahawks and 49ers. Livengood's reputation has been damaged by a series of self-inflicted football coaching changes.

On Saturday night, in a game most of the football world will little note, the old friends from Everett, Wash., will be pitted against one another in the Next Big Game of their very fortunate and rewarding lives.

It's going to be impossible for either to be a loser.