What will happen to the Michigan Wolverines if super fan Joe Holzhausen doesn't wear his usual fuzzy blue hat with protruding yellow horns to Monday night's national championship game against the University of Washington?

Or if Abbey McNeil doesn't assume her lucky posture and crossed fingers?

Or if Diane Miller doesn't wear the same block M earrings and Michigan T-shirt she has worn for every game during this undefeated season.

None of them are willing to find out.

"I sure would hate to think getting out of our routine impacted or angered the football gods," said Holzhausen, who is 50, has three degrees from U-M, lives in Chelsea and hasn't missed a home game at the Big House — except for the COVID-19 season ― since 1985.

There's just so much at stake.

The Wolverines, who, in November celebrated the football program's 1,000th win by beating Maryland, last claimed a national title in 1997. “I was at the Rose Bowl in '97 to see us win the national championship," Holzhausen said. "Now I'm taking the entire family down to Houston to see us win the next championship. ... My kids are 14 and 12. They have season tickets with us and go to all the games. ... If we have a chance at the national championship, I want them to be there to see it." So there's history in the offing.

Also in play are tradition, family, community and a sense of being part of something larger than oneself.

"Athletics is the one thing that brings us all together," said Holzhausen, who left for Houston on Friday morning with his kids and with three 10-foot-by-10-foot tents, a cornhole game, chairs and four speakers packed into the back of his pickup; his wife will fly down. "It's just everybody pulling in one direction, everybody cheering at the same time, knowing the rituals, what we do when."

And all that makes the championship — and all the superstitions and rituals associated with it ― about more than football.

McNeil, a 23-year-old U-M graduate from Grosse Ile who now lives in the Baltimore area, watched the Rose Bowl with other alums at a bar in her new home city. She enjoys watching with other alumni because she doesn't need to explain her superstitions; they automatically get it. “Michigan fans are really resiliant and support this team," she said. "There were some years where it wasn’t so great, we’re still loyal Wolverines.”

Through the fourth quarter and overtime, she sat with her knees facing the bar in front of her, her feet on the bar rail, body turned about 90 degrees so she was watching the television over her right shoulder and the middle finger on her right hand crossed over her pointer finger. "Every time they did something good, I would get up and cheer," McNeil said. "But I would have to sit back down" and get back into position to keep the luck flowing.

"Logically," she said good-naturedly, “nothing I'm doing in Baltimore is affecting them." But for Monday night's game, she plans to sit in the same posture at the same bar in the same seat — unless the team isn't doing well. Then she'll switch up her position until she finds one that seems to bring the team luck. (She is in good company: Harbaugh's parents, Jack and Jackie Harbaugh, told WXYZ-TV Sports Director Brad Galli they switched seats before Michigan won the Rose Bowl. They joked their actions made a difference. Galli suggested they do the same thing during the national championship game and, with a smile, Jack agreed.)

A Michigan fan all her life from a family of Michigan fans ― long ago, an uncle somewhere up the family tree played for Michigan ― U-M was McNeil's first choice for college. "When I was a student, I had such positive experiences at the games," McNeil said. "It was a magical experience, actually, to be in the Big House. I think I cried the last game of my senior year. I didn't want to leave. ... The atmosphere at home games is phenomenal. I think that is one more thing that just adds to the phenomenon of it and the depths of fanhood. You get there so early to tailgate, you're in a stadium with 110,000 people, the band is out there ... there's so many traditions within the student section and within the crowd. ... I think being part of that makes you feel very special."

"Any time I wear a Michigan shirt almost anywhere, I will get a 'Go Blue!' from somebody. I've been in Hawaii. I've been in California. I've been in Europe. They will say 'Go Blue!' to you," McNeil said.

The magnitude of all that stands out to her.

"I'll try whatever I can to help the team," she said.

On Monday, Zachary Garton, who is 31, will go to the same bar where he watches all of Michigan's away games — except if Michigan is playing at Michigan State, then he travels to East Lansing to attend the game in person. He will drive from his home in Kalamazoo to sit at Ashley's bar and restaurant in the middle of U-M's central campus.

“I would never not go to Ashley's," he said. "Once I find a place, I go to, I stick with it. And Ashley's, the environment, the bartenders, everything just is right."

The other thing he'd never do: watch a game without wearing his lucky Michigan hat, a white baseball cap with a blue block M trimmed in maize on the front and a silhouette of Michael Jordan on the bill. On his way to Ann Arbor one day last season, he realized he'd forgotten his hat. He turned around and drove 30 minutes back home to retrieve it. "Every game I wear the hat, they've been winning," he said. "Ever since I've boght the hat, they've won all the games!"

Garton is not an alum and he attends most games alone, which he doesn't mind. "I love the game. ... We're all there to enjoy the game and we're all Michigan fans enjoying it. If you're going by yourself, you're going with all your fellow Wolverines."

There is no such thing as being alone when you're a Michigan fan.

The games provide Miller, who has worn the same earrings and shirt all season, with a certain comfort. Watching makes the 63-year-old Wyandotte resident think of all those Saturday afternoons growing up when she and her six siblings and mom and dad would pile into the small living room of their Berkley home to watch the game, everyone united in their desire to support the team.

The biggest fan in the room? Miller's mother, the one who kept the large family together. The one who made sure her kids always invited a child who needed a friend to slumber parties; with a son in special education classes who was picked on, she knew how important it was for children to feel part of something.

Her death, years ago, broke Miller. Watching the Wolverines, seeing the team's run toward the championship makes her think of her mother. "She would be so excited and she would get out her Michigan gear, too."

Miller said: "I wish she was here to see it."

This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Like Jim Harbaugh's parents, these Michigan fans have superstitions