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Jim Harbaugh's invite ups ante in satellite wars

Picture this scene taking place in Ann Arbor in mid-June:

Jim Harbaugh, Urban Meyer, Mark Dantonio and Nick Saban are sitting around a campfire, making s'mores and swapping stories from the recruiting trail. Harbaugh hooks up a small TV to a generator so the group can watch "Judge Judy" reruns. Les Miles walks up with a guitar. They all sing "Kumbaya." Rich Rodriguez then approaches, pointing to his watch and saying the coaches have exceeded their time limit. Everyone shares a laugh before retreating to their sleeping bags.

Sure, that's pure fiction. But after Harbaugh's brilliant open invitation to Michigan's summer football camp, it's at least theoretically possible. Even more importantly, Harbaugh just drove a stake (too soon?) through the Southern coaches' opposition to the Big Ten encroachment in their areas through the use of satellite camps.

The SEC and ACC, of course, have whined about the practice, which the Wolverines will push to the extreme with their upcoming "Summer Swarm" tour: a nine-day odyssey in which their coaches will work camps in Florida, Texas, California, Alabama and elsewhere. The SEC and ACC adhere to a rule prohibiting their coaches from working at camps more than 50 miles from campus, and those leagues are lobbying the NCAA to make that rule uniform throughout college football. (Southern hospitality, it seems, extends only so far when Yankees come to check out their football prospects). Incoming SEC commissioner Greg Sankey has even joked about having his teams work camps in State College, Pennsylvania.

This is why Harbaugh's invitation is at once ingenious and hysterical. He is welcoming up to two coaches from every college program in America to come work as instructors at Michigan's camp. For those schools forbidden to traverse the 50 miles from their campus, Harbaugh says, "we cordially invite your head football coach to be our keynote speaker."

What Harbaugh has done is call the bluff of every satellite camp critic. There's nothing behind their argument, of course, but the selfish desire to protect their own turf. If anything, Big Ten schools are merely closing the gap on a huge recruiting disadvantage by seeing a lot of prospects out of their area at one time in camps like these.

The "NIMBY" approach by Southern schools is as petty as it is unsurprising. Harbaugh's retort: Fine. Everybody come over to my place. It is called the Big House, after all.

The odds of Saban or Jimbo Fisher or Steve Spurrier or Kevin Sumlin stopping by Zingerman's on the way to Michigan's camp this summer are remote. They're not really that interested in Midwest recruits, anyway, and I highly doubt they would give Harbaugh the satisfaction of showing up.

Ironically, Harbaugh's invitation could be most beneficial for his competitors in the Big Ten, who figure to be angling for many of the same recruits who will attend the camp. Can you imagine the sheer deliciousness of seeing Meyer or Dantonio prowling Michigan's campus? (Maybe Dantonio could bring a can of green spray paint and pay back the Maize and Blue vandals for this; Meyer might be too busy trying to cross out all the M's around Ann Arbor to watch recruits). Then again, it doesn't hurt that the Wolverines in many ways get to control the message, with prospects getting a first-hand look at their campus for several days.

Coaches from smaller schools might well jump at the offer to work the camp. Heck, we can't even be 100 percent sure that this isn't just a genuine, goodness-of-the-heart gesture by Harbaugh, who've we all learned by now is not your average football coach. His sign off to the invitation, "Sincerely yours in football," reinforced that yet again.

But mostly, Harbaugh is extremely intelligent, and this open invitation is one of his smartest moves since he became the Michigan coach. It makes him and the Wolverines look open and welcoming to all before they set about trying to raid other team's recruiting areas. And they probably don't even have to wash any extra towels for their SEC and ACC counterparts, whose petty complaining just got exposed, or their top Midwestern rivals, most of whom wouldn't dare be caught photographed with a Block M in the background .

Just in case, though, better keep those s'mores supplies handy.