Bret Bielema's days of lying about his identity are winding down.

For years, when a stranger on a plane asked about his occupation, Bielema said he worked for the University of Wisconsin.

What do you do there?

"I teach."

What do you teach?

"I teach history."

What kind of history?

"European religions."

Bielema figured if he told the truth, he might spend the entire flight answering questions.

"If you say you're a football coach, especially with a dude, they're always all over you," Bielema said.

Last week, Bielema was running errands in Madison when he popped into Cost Cutters for a trim. His hairdresser - a man - started making small talk. Bielema concealed his identity.

But the lady at the next chair kept staring at the largest history professor in school history.

Finally, "she turned around and ratted me out," Bielema said.

The coach and his program are too good to hide anymore. Bielema knows it, which is  why he carries himself like a man who just got a free meal at his favorite restaurant.

He's won 60 games in six seasons in Madison, a better average than even legend Barry Alvarez. He's been to two straight Rose Bowls.

Montee Ball said no to the NFL and returned for his senior season. For the second straight year, an ACC transfer fell in his lap, solving his headache at quarterback.

Wisconsin's two chief divisional rivals, Ohio State and Penn State, are ineligible to win the Leaders Division.

And in his sweetest brush with luck, this spring the 42-year-old ex-Hawkeye lineman married a 27-year-old blonde from Florida.

The wedding cake featured four white levels, each separated by a layer of red roses.

Bret and Jen met a few years ago at a blackjack table in Las Vegas. They both made money that night.

"Been winning ever since," Bielema says.

He loves his university almost as much as his bride. When he took over in 2006, Bielema embraced the culture Alvarez had built. He wears school spirit on his sleeve, routinely punctuating public speeches with "On Wisconsin!"

"Every head coach has to really buy into the situation he's in," Bielema said. "You've got coaches that maybe don't fit certain scenarios and it just doesn't work."

Bielema brags about:

* How Wisconsin doesn't recruit like most schools. Character and potential are more important than finding "ready-made" players, he said.

* How the Badgers have had only two head coaches in 23 years - and his predecessor's office is within walking distance.

* How he occasionally calls media members to promote his players for national awards - they're always surprised, he says, because no coach has ever done that.

"I enjoy our success," Bielema said. "And I think the reasons we have success are the things I really believe in."

Still, Bielema yearns for more.

Ask a stranger to rank the Big Ten football programs and he'll likely name Michigan and Ohio State - maybe even Nebraska and Penn State - before mentioning the Badgers.

Last year, Wisconsin lost at Michigan State and at Ohio State, both in the final minute. In 2010, they were one game short of a perfect regular season.

"We've been knocking on the door of the national championship two years in a row," Bielema said. "Let's get ourselves in a position to possibly walk through that thing."

Wisconsin faces questions in 2012. Bielema replaced six assistants in the offseason. Transfer quarterback Danny O'Brien is expected to replace Russell Wilson, but he can't possibly be as good. And as two-time defending champs, Wisconsin will get everyone's best shot, starting Sept. 29 at Nebraska.

Bielema has been to Lincoln before, as an Iowa assistant (1999) and Kansas State defensive coordinator (2003).

"You guys pride yourselves on being so cordial and clapping and applauding (opponents)," Bielema said, grinning. "If you win the game, you don't get a lot of applause. You get a lot of other things."

Wisconsin can win the Big Ten again. The Badgers have a system - an identity - reminiscent of the old Nebraska teams. Bielema will lean on Ball and the Badgers' mammoth offensive line, just like in 2011.

Off the field, he'll lean on the First Lady of Wisconsin football.

Bielema doesn't think marriage will change him as a coach. Maybe it will make him better.

"She hears me think through things and gives me a little bit of perspective. ... She knows football, but not to the extent of being crazy."

After their run at the blackjack table in Vegas, Bielema waited two or three months before telling Jen his real job.

Getting caught by the truth has never worried Bielema as much as living the lie.

One of these days, Bielema tells himself, a stranger on a plane will ask what he does. And he'll say what he always says. And the man will be a theologian.

"European religions," Bielema said, "I don't even know what that means."

He's on a roll. He doesn't have to.

Contact the writer:

402-649-1461, dirk.chatelain@owh.com

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