The most popular item in Bill McCartney's basement full of memorabilia from a long and well-decorated coaching career is a picture of his Colorado team's 1994 victory at the Big House: The Miracle at Michigan.

There's a little button in the corner of the frame that when pushed summons Keith Jackson's unforgettable call of Kordell Stewart's 75-yard Hail Mary pass on the final play of the 27-26 upset over the fourth-ranked Wolverines. Derek McCartney, Bill's grandson, lived next door growing up and would gather up his grade-school buddies on a weekly basis to bring them downstairs and give them all a chance to press the button.

"We wore that thing out," says Mike McCartney, Bill's son. "There wasn't a time we went into the basement where we didn't play it."

Derek is now 22 years old and a defensive lineman for the Buffs, who will travel back to the Big House this season for another underdog matchup against a Wolverines team that is once again ranked fourth in the nation. Bill will be there to watch. It will be, he says, his first time back in the stadium that has meant so much to his coaching career since he left victorious 22 years ago.

The visit will be an important trip for Bill, who worked for eight seasons in his home state as an assistant at Michigan before building a national champion from scratch at Colorado. The 76-year-old coach was diagnosed with late-onset Alzheimer's disease this summer. He's still physically fit and socially sharp, but his short-term memory has started to falter. Friends and family say he has trouble remembering conversations from earlier in the day. He can recall with clarity, though, practicing the Hail Mary pass from Stewart to Michael Westbrook the day before beating Michigan.

"It didn't work on Friday; the ball fell to the ground," Bill said. "We didn't deflect it properly. So, it's true that we got a little bit lucky, but we also felt like we prepared properly."

An instant classic like that produces a thousand different stories from a thousand different perspectives. McCartney would probably be OK with hearing them all.

Bill McCartney, who coached at Colorado from 1982-94, turned the Buffs into a national power. He compiled a 93-55-5 record and won a national championship in 1990 after finishing 11-1-1, including beating Notre Dame in the Orange Bowl. by:Stephen Dunn/Getty Images

Jerry Hanlon's version starts in Miami, Ohio, where the longtime Michigan assistant was being inducted into Miami's famous Cradle of Coaches on that September afternoon in 1994. He says it's the only home Michigan game he hasn't watched from inside the Big House since he started with the Wolverines in 1969.

"I watched it in the press box (at Miami) on the television and damn near jumped out of the box," Hanlon said.

Hanlon was part of Bo Schembechler's staff in Miami that followed him up to Ann Arbor. Schembechler struck up a relationship with Bill after hearing that he had won football and basketball state championships in the same school year at Divine Child High School in Dearborn, Michigan. Shortly thereafter, Schembechler asked McCartney to join his staff and coach the linebackers at Michigan.

McCartney grew up across the street from a high school in Riverview, Michigan, a few miles west from where the Canadian border dips down into Lake Erie. He would sneak over to the school and watch football practices, where he says he decided as a seven-year-old that coaching football would be his vocation.

He shared an office with Jack Harbaugh for the majority of his eight years in Ann Arbor. During their first week in Ann Arbor, McCartney sent his boys down the street to meet Jack's sons, John and Jimmy. "They had the best cereal of anyone in the neighborhood," Jim recalled earlier this week.

McCartney eventually worked his way up to being the team's defensive coordinator. "McCartney's monsters," as radio man Bob Ufer dubbed the defense, didn't allow a touchdown for five straight games (three of them shutouts) to help lead the 1980 team to a Big Ten title and Schembechler's first Rose Bowl victory.

McCartney's allegiance to and reverence for Schembechler is the tie that binds Michigan and Colorado's football programs. McCartney modeled much of his tough-love formula that made the Buffaloes successful after what he learned while coaching for the Wolverines.

"We tried to do things a similar way," McCartney said. "I tried to duplicate that, although I wasn't Bo."

Shemy Schembechler, Bo's son, was a graduate assistant on Michigan's staff when McCartney returned with his Buffaloes team in 1994. Shemy's job after the final play of the game was to go and collect the prospects in town for the day's game and bring them back to the locker room. It was as long and devastating a walk as he can remember having in the Big House.

While on his way to retrieve the recruits, he bumped into Elli Uzelac, a former Michigan assistant who had joined McCartney in Colorado as offensive coordinator.

"He comes up behind me and says, 'Shem turn around,'" Schembechler says. "He said, 'Sorry buddy, but we still love you.' It was almost just like my dad. They had the same mantra of jubilance in winning a game like that. It was almost like it was the Michigan of the West."

Colorado's coaches agree with that description, almost to a comical fault.

"Whatever Schembechler did, Mac did," says Gary Barnett, a long-time McCartney assistant and eventually a head coach at Colorado. "He did it to the point where we got tired of listening to all the Michigan stuff. It was Michigan this, Michigan that. Bo this, Bo that. He was in Bo's corner all the way."

"I'm 76, so I'm over-the-hill Bill, but (this weekend) I'm wired, fired and inspired," Bill McCartney said. "We haven't seen each other for a long time, but they've got all stories. ... They'll say, 'Do you remember this?' and I'll say, 'No. Remind me.'" Dustin Bradford/Getty Images

As former Colorado coaches, Barnett and McCartney bump into each other frequently at charity events and golf outings. Those days usually come with a few stories from their time on the same staff -- knocking off Oklahoma State with a fake field goal in '91 or the year before, when Barnett replaced Gerry DiNardo as offensive coordinator a month before playing for a national title. McCartney called over Barnett to deliver news of his promotion. He said, "OK, Gerry's leaving. You're the coordinator. Figure out how to win the game." End of meeting.

Barnett did. Colorado beat Notre Dame 10-9 in the Orange Bowl to wrap up an undefeated season and a national championship. A few years later, Barnett was the head coach at Northwestern and sitting in his office after a game when he flipped to ABC to catch the end of Colorado-Michigan. He saw the Buffaloes were down to a final play and walked away figuring they had lost.

Barnett said as he remembers the play, it was actually Westbrook's job to tip the ball to another receiver. Their routes got crossed up near the goal line, so Westbrook was a little out of position when he caught the game winner. The coach says now that he should have known to expect the unexpected after working alongside McCartney for so long.

Two months later, McCartney announced he was stepping away from coaching at age 55 to spend more time with his family. Barnett was shocked again.

"He was always going to do something or say something that was off the wall," Barnett said. "For us, that one came out of nowhere, but it was kind of fitting."

Mike McCartney has a version of the story, too, of course. He was working for the Chicago Bears at the time and made the trip back to Ann Arbor to see his dad's team play in their old hometown.

He remembers standing in the tunnel of the stadium late in the second quarter and seeing Les Miles, then Michigan's offensive line coach, who was headed down from the press box to talk to his players during halftime. The Buffs had the ball and were going to try a deep pass to score before the break. McCartney leaned over to Miles, who was part of McCartney's first staff in Colorado, and let him know that Stewart had the arm strength to hurl 75 or 80 yards in the air.

"Les talked to me later on," he said. "On that last play (of the game) he was in the press box telling Michigan's coaches, 'Hey, McCartney told me Kordell can throw it 75 or 80 yards. You better back up.' Can you imagine if they would've batted it down because of something I said? Luckily, it worked out."

Mike McCartney called that weekend "an emotional one," and he expects the return trip this time around to be much the same. Dozens of former players and coaches are planning to meet in town Friday night to relive glory days and tell their own versions of one of the many stories they've shared together.

As Bill McCartney's disease starts to eat away at his memory, those unforgettable moments become more important, his son said. They talk more now about old coaching stories than they ever have before, and calling them to mind lights up the old coach's face in a way few other things do now.

"I'm 76, so I'm over-the-hill Bill, but (this weekend) I'm wired, fired and inspired," he said. "We haven't seen each other for a long time, but they've got all stories. Those stories are funny and they're also revealing. I'm sure they'll be some of that. They'll say, 'Do you remember this?' and I'll say, 'No. Remind me.'"