Has anyone else noticed that Michigan seems a little out of step lately? As if the pep band had been sacked and “Hail to the Victors” replaced as Ann Arbor’s theme song by Human League’s “Don’t You Want Me”?
Think about it. In the past week, Florida’s Tim Tebow became the first sophomore to win the Heisman, Ohio State basked in the glow of Laurinaitis’s Butkus Award and Jim Heacock’s Assistant Coach of the Year honors, and scads of other schools made room for new hardware in their trophy cases.
What did Michigan get? Snubbed by another coach. Rutgers’ coach to be exact.
How embarrassing.
Well, since my Cooper plan for replacing Lloyd Carr hasn’t gained any traction in Ann Arbor and my cat has yet to receive a call for the position (see posting from November 20), I have some new advice for our archrival’s athletic department: lower your expectations.
Hold on. Hear me out.
By this, I don’t mean settle for a lesser coach. Far from it. I mean, perhaps it is time to look outside of the Division IA family.
“But wait!” I hear you protest. “We are the winningnest program in college football history! We have more tradition in our toenail crud than LSU has on its entire campus! Our mascot is a very large weasel! We have those cool helmets!”
Yes, yes, I hear you. But along with that tradition and those pretty helmets comes the stress of a fickle fanbase and a very high expectation to perform…all coupled with one of the lowest salaries in major college football. Not exactly a dream job to pull a well-known coach away from a comfortable position with an established program.
But there is another route: the Football Championship Subdivision, or Division IAA to you and me.
Don’t laugh. It’s worked before, as you should know well by now. In 2001, after Ohio State finally came out of its Cooper Coma, the athletic department’s first thought was to do what you are doing now: try to net the big fish, the known entity. Well, Lou Holtz turned us down. Said he didn’t want the pressure. Said he preferred to stay in South Carolina, a program with as much tradition as Canada where he made a nice salary and everyone was just happy to have a guy of his stature in town. Winning, if it happened, was just a bonus.
So where did the Buckeyes go from there? To Division IAA’s Youngstown State, where a little known coach had quietly made a name for himself amongst these lesser schools by leading the Penguins to three national championships in the 1990s. The man’s name: Jim Tressel. You might have heard of him. He’s the guy in the sweater vest that makes you very depressed each November.
After his success at Youngstown State, Tressel arrived in Columbus and just kept doing the two things he does best: wearing the vest and winning. The formula worked just as well in Division IA as it had in IAA. In seven years, Tressel has led the Buckeyes to three national title games, four Big Ten championships, and the highest win percentage against Michigan of any coach in the history of the rivalry. Not bad for a man from the “lesser” division.
Now, I know that Michigan praises tradition, an inside connection, as does Ohio State. And of course, Tressel did have a previous Buckeye connection: a little experience at the Horseshoe coaching under Earle Bruce in the 1980s. So let’s think about this. Who out there has a proven track record in Division IAA and a little experience in the Big House to boot?
Answer: Appalachian State coach Jerry Moore.
This weekend, Moore will lead the Mountaineers into their third title game in as many years. If he wins, he will have done something no one—not even Tressel—accomplished at that level: win three national titles in a row. Even if he doesn’t win, he has proven his ability beyond doubt to recruit and coach in the big games. Oh, and he apparently knows how to win at the Big House. How could this guy not get a call from the Michigan athletic department?
“But we don’t like Appalachian State,” you whine. “They made us look girly in front of our fans.” True, but that only works to your advantage. Think about it. By hiring Moore, you shed the shame of losing to Appalachian State. Their man is now your man. You’ve internalized your conqueror, made him your own. His success is now your success, something to be bragged about, crowed from the rooftops.
Seriously, how is his phone not ringing right now?
Sure he’s old as dust, but so what? At 68, he’s twelve years younger than Joe Paterno, ten than Bobby Bowden. And unlike those coaches, he’s still winning. Heck, even if he only stays five years, consider the possibilities. Had Tressel retired after five years, he would have done so with a national championship and two Big Ten titles to his credit, while leaving behind a team full of blue chip recruits, including five future first round draft picks and a future Heisman trophy winner, for the next guy. Things could be a lot worse.
Are you dialing the phone yet?
Oh, and one last thing: to properly emulate your rival and pull this off, Jerry Moore will need to bring a fashion statement to Ann Arbor. Tressel has the sweater vest. It’s copyrighted. No one else can do it. But perhaps you could persuade Moore to take another route, something that speaks of his previous roots. Overalls perhaps? Something in burlap? Cultural items also work: replacing the Gatorade cooler with a moonshine jug, for instance, or adding a banjo and fiddle section to the marching band.
Anyway, you’ll think of something. That’s the easy part.
The hard part is getting that Human League song out of your head.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Monday, December 3, 2007
Giant Sloth Versus the Salad Shooter: A Divine Comedy
Here’s a bit of good news. Apparently there is a god. And get this: he’s a football fan.
More specifically, he’s a football fan with a bit of a prankster, stir the pot, stoke the flames sort of attitude. But just whether he’s a Big Ten fan or an SEC fan remains to be seen.
What we do know is that after a crazy ending to the craziest regular season in college football history—an ending that saw the number one and number two teams simultaneously lose for the third time this season—the stage is set to answer the following questions once and for all: Is the Big Ten slothful and weak? Is the SEC the greatest thing since the salad shooter? Is “sweater vest” or “baseball cap” the better fashion statement?
Yes, after Oklahoma beat up on Missouri and, more improbably, Pitt stunned West Virginia in a game that even the refs couldn’t win for the Mountaineers, Ohio State and LSU have landed in the national championship game—a game that will stand as the marquis match-up in a postseason promising either redemption for the Buckeyes and Big Ten fans in general, or assurance that we no longer need to defend ourselves to the media, because, well, they will have stopped caring.
For Ohio State, the scenario seems too good to be true. At the end of a rebuilding year, we get the chance to play for a national title…against the SEC champion…coached by a Michigan man. In a single sixty-minute span, we can expel the SEC demon while simultaneously delivering an extra blow to our archrival.
Predictably, the media can’t stand it. On ESPN’s Bowl Selection Special last night, Mark May couldn’t list enough reasons why the Buckeyes will get trounced by LSU. The Sporting News’s Matt Hayes dubbed the game the “Backed-in Bowl”, and Las Vegas has already made LSU a five-point favorite. Get used to it, Buckeye Nation. You’re going to hear this and much worse in coming weeks.
The good news is, after nearly a year of fending off belittling commentary, we now control our own destiny. If we beat LSU, any SEC fan or media pundit with a shred of sense will have to stop using the Florida game as the definitive statement on the Bucks. If we lose, well, get ready for another twelve months of hearing how Ohio State’s fastest player can’t outrun Dom Deloise.
But wait, there’s more.
Providence the Football Fan wasn’t content to let the drama play out on a single stage. Other postseason match-ups heighten the intrigue, from a Buckeye point of view, and with a little bit of luck—something on a parting-of-the-waters or endless-basket-of-fish scale—could revolutionize the way a critical nation views the Big Ten as a whole.
Consider:
Michigan vs. Florida in the Capital One Bowl
Remember my argument that, no matter how much you revile That School Up North, their success is good for Ohio State? Well, you can’t ask for a better example than this.
SEC fans, despite losing two out of three bowl games against the Big Ten last year, love to cite two examples as to why our conference is a glorified Pop Warner league: 1) Ohio State’s pummeling by Florida last year, and 2) Michigan’s loss to Appalachian State at the start of this season. Well, Mike Hart, here’s your final shot at glory. If you have an ounce of pride left in that diminutive body, you will rally your fellow seniors and send Lloyd Carr out with a final victory.
Can you imagine the irony? Florida getting beat by the team that got beat by Appalachian State? However would they explain that in Gainesville?
Illinois vs. USC in the Rose Bowl
That’s right. When the Buckeyes moved up to the title game, Illinois inherited our “consolation” prize. In Pasadena, they will have the unenviable task of facing a finally healthy USC team, a team that started the season ranked number one, floundered midseason amidst a sea of injuries, yet healed in time to become, once again, the media’s darling. Ask commentators who they think, regardless of ranking, is the best team in the country right now, and most will say USC.
On the surface this doesn’t seem like very good news for Illinois, and, let’s face it, it’s probably not. But what if, in this year of upsets that makes Hoosiers seem like a blasé movie, Ron Zook, Juice Williams, and crew—the only team to beat the Buckeyes this year—can pull it off? Well, that wouldn’t be so bad for conference credibility.
To this end, Buckeye fans should also be cheering for Wisconsin against SEC runner-up Tennessee in the Outback (eat a steak) Bowl, Michigan State against ACC runner-up Boston College in the Champs Sports (buy some gear) Bowl, Penn State against the Big 12’s Texas A&M in the Alamo (boys, I think we’re screwed) Bowl, Indiana against the Big 12’s Oklahoma State in the Insight (I don’t know what that is) Bowl and finally, and perhaps most importantly of all, Purdue against MAC champ Central Michigan in the Motor City (if we lose this, it’ll erase all the other ground we’ve gained in the other bowls) Bowl.
Now, naturally, none of this is a lock. Far from it. After all, we can’t control what other teams do. Not Illinois, nor—no matter how much recent dominance would suggest—Michigan. Heck, at 0-8 lifetime against the SEC in bowl games, Ohio State has enough on it’s own plate to worry about. So I’m not suggesting that the Football God, missing the glory days of Manifest Destiny, has chosen to smile upon the Buckeyes and is about to lead us into the promised land of national credibility, let alone approval. I’m just saying that, in a year when just about anything could have happened, somehow the pieces have fallen just right to make the path to the promised land visible. Even accessible.
And wouldn’t it be nice if a guy in a sweater vest, a diminutive, smack-talking running back, and a quarterback named after a beverage could lead us home?
More specifically, he’s a football fan with a bit of a prankster, stir the pot, stoke the flames sort of attitude. But just whether he’s a Big Ten fan or an SEC fan remains to be seen.
What we do know is that after a crazy ending to the craziest regular season in college football history—an ending that saw the number one and number two teams simultaneously lose for the third time this season—the stage is set to answer the following questions once and for all: Is the Big Ten slothful and weak? Is the SEC the greatest thing since the salad shooter? Is “sweater vest” or “baseball cap” the better fashion statement?
Yes, after Oklahoma beat up on Missouri and, more improbably, Pitt stunned West Virginia in a game that even the refs couldn’t win for the Mountaineers, Ohio State and LSU have landed in the national championship game—a game that will stand as the marquis match-up in a postseason promising either redemption for the Buckeyes and Big Ten fans in general, or assurance that we no longer need to defend ourselves to the media, because, well, they will have stopped caring.
For Ohio State, the scenario seems too good to be true. At the end of a rebuilding year, we get the chance to play for a national title…against the SEC champion…coached by a Michigan man. In a single sixty-minute span, we can expel the SEC demon while simultaneously delivering an extra blow to our archrival.
Predictably, the media can’t stand it. On ESPN’s Bowl Selection Special last night, Mark May couldn’t list enough reasons why the Buckeyes will get trounced by LSU. The Sporting News’s Matt Hayes dubbed the game the “Backed-in Bowl”, and Las Vegas has already made LSU a five-point favorite. Get used to it, Buckeye Nation. You’re going to hear this and much worse in coming weeks.
The good news is, after nearly a year of fending off belittling commentary, we now control our own destiny. If we beat LSU, any SEC fan or media pundit with a shred of sense will have to stop using the Florida game as the definitive statement on the Bucks. If we lose, well, get ready for another twelve months of hearing how Ohio State’s fastest player can’t outrun Dom Deloise.
But wait, there’s more.
Providence the Football Fan wasn’t content to let the drama play out on a single stage. Other postseason match-ups heighten the intrigue, from a Buckeye point of view, and with a little bit of luck—something on a parting-of-the-waters or endless-basket-of-fish scale—could revolutionize the way a critical nation views the Big Ten as a whole.
Consider:
Michigan vs. Florida in the Capital One Bowl
Remember my argument that, no matter how much you revile That School Up North, their success is good for Ohio State? Well, you can’t ask for a better example than this.
SEC fans, despite losing two out of three bowl games against the Big Ten last year, love to cite two examples as to why our conference is a glorified Pop Warner league: 1) Ohio State’s pummeling by Florida last year, and 2) Michigan’s loss to Appalachian State at the start of this season. Well, Mike Hart, here’s your final shot at glory. If you have an ounce of pride left in that diminutive body, you will rally your fellow seniors and send Lloyd Carr out with a final victory.
Can you imagine the irony? Florida getting beat by the team that got beat by Appalachian State? However would they explain that in Gainesville?
Illinois vs. USC in the Rose Bowl
That’s right. When the Buckeyes moved up to the title game, Illinois inherited our “consolation” prize. In Pasadena, they will have the unenviable task of facing a finally healthy USC team, a team that started the season ranked number one, floundered midseason amidst a sea of injuries, yet healed in time to become, once again, the media’s darling. Ask commentators who they think, regardless of ranking, is the best team in the country right now, and most will say USC.
On the surface this doesn’t seem like very good news for Illinois, and, let’s face it, it’s probably not. But what if, in this year of upsets that makes Hoosiers seem like a blasé movie, Ron Zook, Juice Williams, and crew—the only team to beat the Buckeyes this year—can pull it off? Well, that wouldn’t be so bad for conference credibility.
To this end, Buckeye fans should also be cheering for Wisconsin against SEC runner-up Tennessee in the Outback (eat a steak) Bowl, Michigan State against ACC runner-up Boston College in the Champs Sports (buy some gear) Bowl, Penn State against the Big 12’s Texas A&M in the Alamo (boys, I think we’re screwed) Bowl, Indiana against the Big 12’s Oklahoma State in the Insight (I don’t know what that is) Bowl and finally, and perhaps most importantly of all, Purdue against MAC champ Central Michigan in the Motor City (if we lose this, it’ll erase all the other ground we’ve gained in the other bowls) Bowl.
Now, naturally, none of this is a lock. Far from it. After all, we can’t control what other teams do. Not Illinois, nor—no matter how much recent dominance would suggest—Michigan. Heck, at 0-8 lifetime against the SEC in bowl games, Ohio State has enough on it’s own plate to worry about. So I’m not suggesting that the Football God, missing the glory days of Manifest Destiny, has chosen to smile upon the Buckeyes and is about to lead us into the promised land of national credibility, let alone approval. I’m just saying that, in a year when just about anything could have happened, somehow the pieces have fallen just right to make the path to the promised land visible. Even accessible.
And wouldn’t it be nice if a guy in a sweater vest, a diminutive, smack-talking running back, and a quarterback named after a beverage could lead us home?
Sunday, November 25, 2007
A Buckeye Trip to New Orleans? Let’s see what Boomer Sooner, Lloyd Carr, and John Denver’s corpse have to say about that.
Can I state the obvious? The only thing more ridiculous than viewing the Rose Bowl as a consolation prize would be falling victim to such folly twice in the same season—or worse yet, twice in a matter of three weeks. Yet here we Buckeye fans are, guilty as charged.
Just as the Buckeye Nation was coming to terms with the idea that beating Michigan, clinching the Big Ten title, and earning a trip to “The Granddaddy of Them All” wasn’t too bad of an outcome for a so- called rebuilding year, the college football world turned upside down again. First Oregon and Oklahoma lost two weeks ago, and then LSU succumbed to Darren McFadden. Throw in the Kansas loss and suddenly the Buckeyes are ranked third in the BCS, just one little upset away from a berth in the national championship game. And, once again, anything less—even a trip to Pasadena—is simply unthinkable.
At the heart of this shake up, in its blundering sort of way, stands our old rival, That Team Up North. I never knew such drama was possible in a week when neither Ohio State nor Michigan took the field, yet a simple press conference by Lloyd Carr seems to have helped get the Bucks one step closer to the national title game—and perhaps to have doomed us to disappointment at the same time.
Immediately following Carr’s announcement to retire, the media began an all out blitz on the leading candidate to fill the position, LSU’s Les Miles. After being hounded all week as to whether he would take the Michigan job—a distracting situation to say the least as evidenced by Miles’s emotional plea to lay off and let him focus on, as he so eloquently pronounced, “Ar-Kansas”—the top-ranked Tigers let down their guard just enough to be toppled by that very Ar-Kansas team; and, in so doing, put the Buckeyes a hair’s breadth away from a trip to New Orleans. I guess we’ll have to wait for next weekend to see whether LSU’s fall from grace will stand as Lloyd Carr’s parting gift to the Buckeyes or his final revenge.
Enter Oklahoma. The very team whose loss on November 17 was celebrated wildly by Buckeye fans now holds our fate in its hands.
That’s right, our hopes are pinned to a team named after a musical.
If Oklahoma beats Missouri in the Big 12 championship game this Saturday, Ohio State moves up one more notch—and Expedia and Travelocity will be flooded with Buckeye fans changing their plane tickets from Pasadena to New Orleans. All of which means Oklahoma is, for the next few days at least, the second favorite team of Buckeye fans across the nation. I, for one, am now the proud owner of a Sooner foam combination set, complete with oversized cowboy hat, coozie and giant finger. The inflatable covered wagon should be delivered to my front yard later this week.
I would suggest cheering for Pitt to beat West Virginia on Saturday, as such a scenario would also land the Bucks in New Orleans— but unless Pitt brings back Tony Dorsett for the game and West Virginia replaces Pat White with John Denver’s corpse, I’m afraid this one may not go our way.
Unless…unless...
Would it be asking too much for Ol’ Lloyd to hold another press conference, stating that the short list for his replacement now includes West Virginia coach Rich Rodriguez and Missouri coach Gary Pinkel? Could you do that for us Lloyd, for old time’s sake? It’s for the benefit of the Big Ten after all.
In all probability, we should prepare ourselves for the fact that the upset is simply not going to happen. We should expect that Missouri and West Virginia will both win next Saturday and Ohio State, despite coming unexpectedly—nay, ridiculously—close to playing for it all for the second time this season, will in the end have to settle for playing in the Rose Bowl. And we would do well to remind ourselves what a treat that actually is.
Really, we would.
Really.
Right?
Ah, screw it. Go Sooners!
Just as the Buckeye Nation was coming to terms with the idea that beating Michigan, clinching the Big Ten title, and earning a trip to “The Granddaddy of Them All” wasn’t too bad of an outcome for a so- called rebuilding year, the college football world turned upside down again. First Oregon and Oklahoma lost two weeks ago, and then LSU succumbed to Darren McFadden. Throw in the Kansas loss and suddenly the Buckeyes are ranked third in the BCS, just one little upset away from a berth in the national championship game. And, once again, anything less—even a trip to Pasadena—is simply unthinkable.
At the heart of this shake up, in its blundering sort of way, stands our old rival, That Team Up North. I never knew such drama was possible in a week when neither Ohio State nor Michigan took the field, yet a simple press conference by Lloyd Carr seems to have helped get the Bucks one step closer to the national title game—and perhaps to have doomed us to disappointment at the same time.
Immediately following Carr’s announcement to retire, the media began an all out blitz on the leading candidate to fill the position, LSU’s Les Miles. After being hounded all week as to whether he would take the Michigan job—a distracting situation to say the least as evidenced by Miles’s emotional plea to lay off and let him focus on, as he so eloquently pronounced, “Ar-Kansas”—the top-ranked Tigers let down their guard just enough to be toppled by that very Ar-Kansas team; and, in so doing, put the Buckeyes a hair’s breadth away from a trip to New Orleans. I guess we’ll have to wait for next weekend to see whether LSU’s fall from grace will stand as Lloyd Carr’s parting gift to the Buckeyes or his final revenge.
Enter Oklahoma. The very team whose loss on November 17 was celebrated wildly by Buckeye fans now holds our fate in its hands.
That’s right, our hopes are pinned to a team named after a musical.
If Oklahoma beats Missouri in the Big 12 championship game this Saturday, Ohio State moves up one more notch—and Expedia and Travelocity will be flooded with Buckeye fans changing their plane tickets from Pasadena to New Orleans. All of which means Oklahoma is, for the next few days at least, the second favorite team of Buckeye fans across the nation. I, for one, am now the proud owner of a Sooner foam combination set, complete with oversized cowboy hat, coozie and giant finger. The inflatable covered wagon should be delivered to my front yard later this week.
I would suggest cheering for Pitt to beat West Virginia on Saturday, as such a scenario would also land the Bucks in New Orleans— but unless Pitt brings back Tony Dorsett for the game and West Virginia replaces Pat White with John Denver’s corpse, I’m afraid this one may not go our way.
Unless…unless...
Would it be asking too much for Ol’ Lloyd to hold another press conference, stating that the short list for his replacement now includes West Virginia coach Rich Rodriguez and Missouri coach Gary Pinkel? Could you do that for us Lloyd, for old time’s sake? It’s for the benefit of the Big Ten after all.
In all probability, we should prepare ourselves for the fact that the upset is simply not going to happen. We should expect that Missouri and West Virginia will both win next Saturday and Ohio State, despite coming unexpectedly—nay, ridiculously—close to playing for it all for the second time this season, will in the end have to settle for playing in the Rose Bowl. And we would do well to remind ourselves what a treat that actually is.
Really, we would.
Really.
Right?
Ah, screw it. Go Sooners!
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Thanks for the Memories: Now perhaps you'd like to hire my cat?
How’s everybody feeling out there this week? Pretty good? I would hope so. Me? It’s Tuesday and I’m still drunk.
I don’t know what to celebrate more: Ohio State’s fourth straight victory over “that team up north”, the release of HBO’s documentary dedicated to the storied rivalry, or Oregon and Oklahoma losing and getting the Bucks back into the national championship conversation? Any way you slice it, last week was a good one for the Buckeye Nation.
So why, then, do I feel a hint of sadness in the air, a nagging sensation that tugs at my heartstrings like a three-legged Wolverine begging to be put out of its misery? Could it be that we have some goodbyes to say?
Ah, Mike Hart, how Buckeye fans will miss you. Though you are likely saddened by your abject failure against Ohio State throughout your college years, I urge you to take comfort in the fact that you’re going to have an extraordinary pro career. How do I know this? Because you have exactly the right amount of class for the NFL. Which is to say, none. Last Saturday, I marveled at your seemingly limitless machismo. Having to be restrained at the 50-yard line prior to the game was a nice touch, but pushing Ohio State defensive back Chimdi Chekwa to the ground after a block and pounding your chest was pure gold. Anybody that can show such bravado en route to a season low 44-yard rushing effort on 21 carries is truly a special kind of stupid. Yes, you’re going to fit in with that whiny, overpaid NFL crowd just fine.
Someone with infinitely more class who I will miss is Michigan coach Lloyd Carr, who resigned on Monday—and, believe it or not, I say this without the faintest hint of irony. I really am going to miss ol’ Lloyd. I watched his retirement speech on Monday from beginning to end, and I have to admit: the guy’s a good guy and, as the record shows, a helluva coach. Over the past 13 seasons he racked up five Big Ten titles, a national championship, and a win percentage that ranks up there with the best coaches in history. All of which makes the fact that Tressel beat him six out of the last seven years even more remarkable. And unfortunately for Lloyd, it is this last fact that both Michigan and Ohio State fans will dwell on for awhile. To that end, he’s become Michigan’s John Cooper—the Buckeye coach who managed just two wins over the Wolverines in thirteen long, painful seasons—which I suppose allows me to use the phrase “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy” with complete apropos.
As Ohio State fans bask in the glow of our recent victory and daydream about extending our rivalry win streak to five in a row for the first time in history, the media madness accompanying Michigan’s search for a new man at the helm has already begun. With this in mind, an interesting though disturbing trend occurs to me: new coaches have an uncanny ability to knock off their archrival in their inaugural year. Now, I don’t want to take the glow off of any Buckeye daydreams out there, but this beginner’s luck, or dogged determination to prove oneself worthy of the new position, or whatever one wants to call it has struck with alarming consistency over the past four decades. Bo Schembechler inherited a floundering Wolverine team in 1969 and promptly beat the top ranked Buckeyes his first year. Earle Bruce reciprocated when he took over for Ohio State in 1979. Gary Moeller sobered up enough to win in 1990. Lloyd Carr prevailed in 1995, and so did Jim Tressel in 2001. And in each of these inaugural match-ups, the quality of the opponent didn’t seem to matter: the 1969 Buckeyes entered The Game on a 22-game win streak and had been hailed as one of the greatest college teams of all time before losing to Schembechler. Carr’s inaugural victory came over a #2 ranked Buckeye team.
So where am I going with this? It occurs to me that next year the Bucks have a lot of firepower returning and will almost certainly be ranked high going into the last week of the season…and Michigan is going to have a new coach. I don’t want to be an alarmist, but we have to start planning now if we don’t want next season to be hijacked by some upstart overachiever in a cheap maize and blue polo.
Fortunately, I have an idea as to how we can avert such disaster. A foolproof plan, if you will. We simply need Michigan to replace Carr with the only coach who didn’t win The Game in his inaugural season over the past forty years. That’s right, Michigan needs to hire John Cooper. If Cooper doesn’t work out, I could also be satisfied with Donny Osmond, my cat (Mrs. Bigglesworth), or Charlie Weiss, though not necessarily in that order.
So enjoy your victory, Buckeye fans, but know that, even though the Big Ten season is over, there is still much to be done. Root for anyone playing teams ranked ahead of us, for one, in hopes that we might still make that title game, and, most importantly, get those petitions for Cooper circulating through the Michigan athletic department. Otherwise, be prepared to face Coach Bigglesworth next year.
I don’t know what to celebrate more: Ohio State’s fourth straight victory over “that team up north”, the release of HBO’s documentary dedicated to the storied rivalry, or Oregon and Oklahoma losing and getting the Bucks back into the national championship conversation? Any way you slice it, last week was a good one for the Buckeye Nation.
So why, then, do I feel a hint of sadness in the air, a nagging sensation that tugs at my heartstrings like a three-legged Wolverine begging to be put out of its misery? Could it be that we have some goodbyes to say?
Ah, Mike Hart, how Buckeye fans will miss you. Though you are likely saddened by your abject failure against Ohio State throughout your college years, I urge you to take comfort in the fact that you’re going to have an extraordinary pro career. How do I know this? Because you have exactly the right amount of class for the NFL. Which is to say, none. Last Saturday, I marveled at your seemingly limitless machismo. Having to be restrained at the 50-yard line prior to the game was a nice touch, but pushing Ohio State defensive back Chimdi Chekwa to the ground after a block and pounding your chest was pure gold. Anybody that can show such bravado en route to a season low 44-yard rushing effort on 21 carries is truly a special kind of stupid. Yes, you’re going to fit in with that whiny, overpaid NFL crowd just fine.
Someone with infinitely more class who I will miss is Michigan coach Lloyd Carr, who resigned on Monday—and, believe it or not, I say this without the faintest hint of irony. I really am going to miss ol’ Lloyd. I watched his retirement speech on Monday from beginning to end, and I have to admit: the guy’s a good guy and, as the record shows, a helluva coach. Over the past 13 seasons he racked up five Big Ten titles, a national championship, and a win percentage that ranks up there with the best coaches in history. All of which makes the fact that Tressel beat him six out of the last seven years even more remarkable. And unfortunately for Lloyd, it is this last fact that both Michigan and Ohio State fans will dwell on for awhile. To that end, he’s become Michigan’s John Cooper—the Buckeye coach who managed just two wins over the Wolverines in thirteen long, painful seasons—which I suppose allows me to use the phrase “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy” with complete apropos.
As Ohio State fans bask in the glow of our recent victory and daydream about extending our rivalry win streak to five in a row for the first time in history, the media madness accompanying Michigan’s search for a new man at the helm has already begun. With this in mind, an interesting though disturbing trend occurs to me: new coaches have an uncanny ability to knock off their archrival in their inaugural year. Now, I don’t want to take the glow off of any Buckeye daydreams out there, but this beginner’s luck, or dogged determination to prove oneself worthy of the new position, or whatever one wants to call it has struck with alarming consistency over the past four decades. Bo Schembechler inherited a floundering Wolverine team in 1969 and promptly beat the top ranked Buckeyes his first year. Earle Bruce reciprocated when he took over for Ohio State in 1979. Gary Moeller sobered up enough to win in 1990. Lloyd Carr prevailed in 1995, and so did Jim Tressel in 2001. And in each of these inaugural match-ups, the quality of the opponent didn’t seem to matter: the 1969 Buckeyes entered The Game on a 22-game win streak and had been hailed as one of the greatest college teams of all time before losing to Schembechler. Carr’s inaugural victory came over a #2 ranked Buckeye team.
So where am I going with this? It occurs to me that next year the Bucks have a lot of firepower returning and will almost certainly be ranked high going into the last week of the season…and Michigan is going to have a new coach. I don’t want to be an alarmist, but we have to start planning now if we don’t want next season to be hijacked by some upstart overachiever in a cheap maize and blue polo.
Fortunately, I have an idea as to how we can avert such disaster. A foolproof plan, if you will. We simply need Michigan to replace Carr with the only coach who didn’t win The Game in his inaugural season over the past forty years. That’s right, Michigan needs to hire John Cooper. If Cooper doesn’t work out, I could also be satisfied with Donny Osmond, my cat (Mrs. Bigglesworth), or Charlie Weiss, though not necessarily in that order.
So enjoy your victory, Buckeye fans, but know that, even though the Big Ten season is over, there is still much to be done. Root for anyone playing teams ranked ahead of us, for one, in hopes that we might still make that title game, and, most importantly, get those petitions for Cooper circulating through the Michigan athletic department. Otherwise, be prepared to face Coach Bigglesworth next year.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Here's a Thought: How about avoiding that Capital One Bowl?
Let’s knock this one out of here real fast: the Buckeyes aren’t going to play for the national championship this year.
Did the loss to Illinois stink? Absolutely. Am I going to complain about the coaching staff’s inexplicable failure to challenge an obvious fumble and thereby avert a touchdown? No. How about three interceptions thrown at inopportune moments, or a defense that had more holes than a grunge band’s wardrobe? No and no.
Why, you ask? Because I tried that, and it didn’t work.
Three hours after the game, all of my venting hadn’t changed a thing. And then it occurred to me…we Buckeye fans have become a bit spoiled. Somewhere beneath the scarlet and gray film glazed over my brain, I seem to recall that this was supposed to be a rebuilding year. Yet here we were ranked number one again.
Well, it was fun while it lasted, but we need to maintain some perspective here. There’s still a Big Ten championship at stake, and a berth in the Rose Bowl. When those are the consolation prizes for a rebuilding year, things are in pretty good shape for the Buckeye Nation.
Now here’s the catch: all we have to do to get those consolation prizes is beat our archrival.
Oh, and that archrival? They’re pissed. They just lost, too. In fact, one could almost say they purposefully lost. Or if they didn’t purposefully lose, exactly, they certainly didn’t put a lot of effort into winning. Can anyone tell me why Mike Hart, the Big Ten’s leading rusher, would be sitting on the sidelines watching his team lose to Wisconsin after he had been cleared by doctors to play? Or why Chad Henne came out of the game so quickly to join Hart on the sidelines for the remaining three quarters? I have a theory. It runs something along the lines of: “Wisconsin, Shmisconsin. We want to whoop Ohio State.”
So that’s what we’re up against this week. A team looking to bury the memory of a humiliating September by climbing over the Buckeyes into the Rose Bowl. A bunch of seniors who want to define their collegiate careers by finally getting that elusive win over their archrival. A coach who needs to toss a certain monkey in a Brutus suit off his back before his career comes to an almost certain close at the end of the season.
All I can say is, “ain’t it great?” If the thought of denying the Wolverines such pleasures can’t get the Buckeyes up for this game, somebody needs to check some pulses.
This is the grudge match with an edge. With the national championship no longer an issue, one could almost make the case that Michigan has the most at stake, which bodes well when considering the “team who has the most to lose usually does” tradition. Then again, history may not have much to offer in the way of predictions this year. For the first time since the Eisenhower administration, both teams will enter The Game licking wounds from a loss the previous week.
So what’s going to happen this Saturday?
Hell if I know. Though I will go so far as to make three predictions: 1) a car is going to get turned over and set on fire somewhere (Detroit doesn’t count. That’s just normal crime.), 2) Mike Hart will make an obnoxiously immature comment in the postgame interview, win or lose, and 3) the scarlet and gray film on my brain, aided considerably by several pints of Guinness, will at some point induce me to attempt Script Ohio with a handful of my friends in the living room.
Other than that, all bets are off.
Did the loss to Illinois stink? Absolutely. Am I going to complain about the coaching staff’s inexplicable failure to challenge an obvious fumble and thereby avert a touchdown? No. How about three interceptions thrown at inopportune moments, or a defense that had more holes than a grunge band’s wardrobe? No and no.
Why, you ask? Because I tried that, and it didn’t work.
Three hours after the game, all of my venting hadn’t changed a thing. And then it occurred to me…we Buckeye fans have become a bit spoiled. Somewhere beneath the scarlet and gray film glazed over my brain, I seem to recall that this was supposed to be a rebuilding year. Yet here we were ranked number one again.
Well, it was fun while it lasted, but we need to maintain some perspective here. There’s still a Big Ten championship at stake, and a berth in the Rose Bowl. When those are the consolation prizes for a rebuilding year, things are in pretty good shape for the Buckeye Nation.
Now here’s the catch: all we have to do to get those consolation prizes is beat our archrival.
Oh, and that archrival? They’re pissed. They just lost, too. In fact, one could almost say they purposefully lost. Or if they didn’t purposefully lose, exactly, they certainly didn’t put a lot of effort into winning. Can anyone tell me why Mike Hart, the Big Ten’s leading rusher, would be sitting on the sidelines watching his team lose to Wisconsin after he had been cleared by doctors to play? Or why Chad Henne came out of the game so quickly to join Hart on the sidelines for the remaining three quarters? I have a theory. It runs something along the lines of: “Wisconsin, Shmisconsin. We want to whoop Ohio State.”
So that’s what we’re up against this week. A team looking to bury the memory of a humiliating September by climbing over the Buckeyes into the Rose Bowl. A bunch of seniors who want to define their collegiate careers by finally getting that elusive win over their archrival. A coach who needs to toss a certain monkey in a Brutus suit off his back before his career comes to an almost certain close at the end of the season.
All I can say is, “ain’t it great?” If the thought of denying the Wolverines such pleasures can’t get the Buckeyes up for this game, somebody needs to check some pulses.
This is the grudge match with an edge. With the national championship no longer an issue, one could almost make the case that Michigan has the most at stake, which bodes well when considering the “team who has the most to lose usually does” tradition. Then again, history may not have much to offer in the way of predictions this year. For the first time since the Eisenhower administration, both teams will enter The Game licking wounds from a loss the previous week.
So what’s going to happen this Saturday?
Hell if I know. Though I will go so far as to make three predictions: 1) a car is going to get turned over and set on fire somewhere (Detroit doesn’t count. That’s just normal crime.), 2) Mike Hart will make an obnoxiously immature comment in the postgame interview, win or lose, and 3) the scarlet and gray film on my brain, aided considerably by several pints of Guinness, will at some point induce me to attempt Script Ohio with a handful of my friends in the living room.
Other than that, all bets are off.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Go Blue? A Guide to Unconventional Cheering (Part Two)
Okay Buckeye fans, let’s face some hard truths. If you’ve picked up any newspaper in the last two months or watched five minutes of Sportscenter, you’ll have noticed that the Big Ten as a conference is lacking a little bit of respect. For this read: it has no respect. Various analysts have referred to it as the “Little Ten”, called it “by far the weakest BCS conference” and have otherwise suggested that any team playing in the Big Ten might as well have lined up a series of Pop Warner peewee teams to play this season.
This brings us to reason number two for why Ohio State fans should root for Michigan during all but one notable week of the year: We need Michigan—and all other Big Ten teams, for that matter—to be as good as possible, year in year out.
Let’s face it. That Appalachian State loss was fun—heck, I went to Boone and bought a T-shirt—but it didn’t do much for conference credibility, especially after last year’s bowl season. When Michigan then lost to Oregon in Week 2, I watched fellow Buckeye fans celebrating with a wary eye. Already, the internal conflict had begun: as fun as it is to see our archrival humiliated, what does this mean for Ohio State?
Well, ten games into the season, it appears to mean this: Ohio State is the most doubted team in America.
Every week I read articles about how they haven’t played anybody. Never mind that just who constitutes “anybody” is a constantly morphing and ultimately self-serving concept. When the Buckeyes were 5-0, analysts said the upcoming Purdue game would be their first big test. When the Bucks easily handled the Boilermakers, rather than boost the Buckeyes’ street cred, Purdue was dubbed overrated. When the Bucks were 7-0 with games against Michigan State, Penn State, Wisconsin, Illinois and Michigan remaining, the analysts said the Bucks were just getting to the meat of their schedule. And they were. But after they handled the Spartans, the analysts dismissed that game, saying, and I’m quoting someone I don’t remember from ESPN’s College Gameday here (perhaps Mark May?), “Everyone expected the Buckeyes to be 8-0 at this point, but their first test comes next week against Penn State.”
Well, the Bucks blew out Penn State at Happy Valley, and followed that up with a three-touchdown victory over Wisconsin. But of course now those teams are dubbed overrated, and the first big test is supposed to come this week against Illinois. Do you see a pattern here? In a Big Ten that is perceived as weak, the Buckeyes can’t win respect. If they lose a game, it will instantly be hailed as the just desserts of an overrated team. If they continue to win, it’s because they’re playing a bunch of cupcakes. If Ohio State beats Illinois (who also beat both Wisconsin and Penn State) and Michigan (currently ranked 12th in the BCS), will they have gained respect? Of course not. I can hear it now: Illinois doesn’t count because, well, they’re Illinois, and Illinois always sucks—never mind their record this year. And Michigan? Well, didn’t they lose to that I-AA team earlier this season? Ah, yes, that. You see my point.
I’m not saying such Big Ten bashing is just. Not for a minute. But it’s the perception that counts. As it stands, the only way Ohio State can gain national respect this year is if it runs the table and beats an SEC or Pac-10 team in the national championship game. These are the conferences currently fulfilling the role of analysts’ darlings, and to an obviously biased degree. An example or two should suffice.
Penn State and Wisconsin, who both started the year in the top twenty, have just three losses, and those to Big Ten opponents. Rather than sending the message that the Big Ten is a tough conference, however, the analysts say that the teams were simply overrated and have dropped them completely out of the rankings. Contrast this to the SEC where six three-loss teams are currently ranked in the AP Top 25, as is the Pac-10’s three-loss Cal. And remember, Cal lost to UCLA—the same UCLA that got crushed by Utah 44-6 and handed Notre Dame its only win of the season—so I don’t want to hear, oh, they were all losses to quality teams.
Analysts’ bias is leading them to confusion and even contradictions. They consider the Pac-10 a “strong” conference, yet have dubbed USC’s loss to 40-point underdog Stanford the greatest upset of all time. Here’s my question: how can losing to someone in your own conference be called the greatest upset of all time? If that’s the case, get Stanford out of your conference. Yet somehow, such a scenario doesn’t diminish the respectability of the Pac-10. It does, however, take away Michigan’s status as the victim of the biggest upset of all time—proving that, even in defeat, the analysts scorn the Big Ten.
So what’s the way out of this quagmire? Buckeye fans need Big Ten teams to win every high-profile non-conference game they play, especially bowl games. And this includes Michigan. Yes, I know it hurts. But remember, it’s all in the interest of self-preservation.
And that’s why I root for Michigan—the very team I was born to loathe—every week but one. Any Buckeye fan should be so insane.
This brings us to reason number two for why Ohio State fans should root for Michigan during all but one notable week of the year: We need Michigan—and all other Big Ten teams, for that matter—to be as good as possible, year in year out.
Let’s face it. That Appalachian State loss was fun—heck, I went to Boone and bought a T-shirt—but it didn’t do much for conference credibility, especially after last year’s bowl season. When Michigan then lost to Oregon in Week 2, I watched fellow Buckeye fans celebrating with a wary eye. Already, the internal conflict had begun: as fun as it is to see our archrival humiliated, what does this mean for Ohio State?
Well, ten games into the season, it appears to mean this: Ohio State is the most doubted team in America.
Every week I read articles about how they haven’t played anybody. Never mind that just who constitutes “anybody” is a constantly morphing and ultimately self-serving concept. When the Buckeyes were 5-0, analysts said the upcoming Purdue game would be their first big test. When the Bucks easily handled the Boilermakers, rather than boost the Buckeyes’ street cred, Purdue was dubbed overrated. When the Bucks were 7-0 with games against Michigan State, Penn State, Wisconsin, Illinois and Michigan remaining, the analysts said the Bucks were just getting to the meat of their schedule. And they were. But after they handled the Spartans, the analysts dismissed that game, saying, and I’m quoting someone I don’t remember from ESPN’s College Gameday here (perhaps Mark May?), “Everyone expected the Buckeyes to be 8-0 at this point, but their first test comes next week against Penn State.”
Well, the Bucks blew out Penn State at Happy Valley, and followed that up with a three-touchdown victory over Wisconsin. But of course now those teams are dubbed overrated, and the first big test is supposed to come this week against Illinois. Do you see a pattern here? In a Big Ten that is perceived as weak, the Buckeyes can’t win respect. If they lose a game, it will instantly be hailed as the just desserts of an overrated team. If they continue to win, it’s because they’re playing a bunch of cupcakes. If Ohio State beats Illinois (who also beat both Wisconsin and Penn State) and Michigan (currently ranked 12th in the BCS), will they have gained respect? Of course not. I can hear it now: Illinois doesn’t count because, well, they’re Illinois, and Illinois always sucks—never mind their record this year. And Michigan? Well, didn’t they lose to that I-AA team earlier this season? Ah, yes, that. You see my point.
I’m not saying such Big Ten bashing is just. Not for a minute. But it’s the perception that counts. As it stands, the only way Ohio State can gain national respect this year is if it runs the table and beats an SEC or Pac-10 team in the national championship game. These are the conferences currently fulfilling the role of analysts’ darlings, and to an obviously biased degree. An example or two should suffice.
Penn State and Wisconsin, who both started the year in the top twenty, have just three losses, and those to Big Ten opponents. Rather than sending the message that the Big Ten is a tough conference, however, the analysts say that the teams were simply overrated and have dropped them completely out of the rankings. Contrast this to the SEC where six three-loss teams are currently ranked in the AP Top 25, as is the Pac-10’s three-loss Cal. And remember, Cal lost to UCLA—the same UCLA that got crushed by Utah 44-6 and handed Notre Dame its only win of the season—so I don’t want to hear, oh, they were all losses to quality teams.
Analysts’ bias is leading them to confusion and even contradictions. They consider the Pac-10 a “strong” conference, yet have dubbed USC’s loss to 40-point underdog Stanford the greatest upset of all time. Here’s my question: how can losing to someone in your own conference be called the greatest upset of all time? If that’s the case, get Stanford out of your conference. Yet somehow, such a scenario doesn’t diminish the respectability of the Pac-10. It does, however, take away Michigan’s status as the victim of the biggest upset of all time—proving that, even in defeat, the analysts scorn the Big Ten.
So what’s the way out of this quagmire? Buckeye fans need Big Ten teams to win every high-profile non-conference game they play, especially bowl games. And this includes Michigan. Yes, I know it hurts. But remember, it’s all in the interest of self-preservation.
And that’s why I root for Michigan—the very team I was born to loathe—every week but one. Any Buckeye fan should be so insane.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Go Blue? A Guide to Unconventional Cheering (Part One)
Here’s a confession you won’t hear from many Buckeye fans: I root for Michigan every chance I get. Every week but one to be specific.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved the Appalachian State loss as much as every one else. And to be fair, my cheers are never vocal (Woody forbid!) or even very conscious. It’s more like an underlying feeling that continually, if subconsciously, suggests: victory for Michigan is good for Ohio State.
Now, before you fly off the handle and holler, “Hey man, that’s crazy talk,” I can offer two reasons for such apparent madness.
First is the old adage which so defines the rivalry, and which I cited in the last posting: namely, “the team that has the most to lose usually does.” The last thing a Buckeye team wants to face—especially a #1 ranked Buckeye team—is a desperate Wolverine team. One with absolutely nothing to lose. A rabid Wolverine, one might say, looking to claim one last victim before the season ends and somebody shoots it in the head.
Instead, we want Michigan to have as much at stake as possible, nearly as much as the Bucks in an ideal world. Consider the 2006 season, when both teams were undefeated and ranked one and two heading into the Big Game. That is the ideal set up, and result. The Buckeyes not only won the game, but in doing so denied “That State Up North” the Big Ten Championship and a shot at the national title. A textbook three-in-one victory.
Last year’s loss to the Buckeyes stung so much, Michigan stars Mike Hart, Chad Henne and Jake Long all turned down certain millions in the NFL to instead play one more year in college. Three goals guided this decision: 1) beat Ohio State (something they have yet to do in their college careers), 2) win the Big Ten, and 3) win a national championship. Well, starting 0-2 on the season with a loss to a Division 1-AA team pretty much put a damper on goal three. But goals one and two are still very much alive. If Michigan were to lose between now and the Big Game, then only goal one would remain. And it would mean more to Hart, Henne, Long and crew than ever.
Recall that, immediately following last year’s game, a hurt and confused Mike Hart, with all the maturity of a third grader who had just lost a dodge ball game at recess, stated, “If we played again it would be a whole different story,” or words to similar effect. This doesn’t say much for his sportsmanship, but it speaks volumes about how bad they want to beat the Bucks. And if a victory over the Buckeyes were the only way to salvage their season, and prove that Hart, Henne and Long weren’t complete idiots for passing up millions by foregoing last year’s draft…well, that’s a rabid Wolverine if I’ve ever seen one.
This alone should provide a compelling reason to root for “that state up north” during the regular season, even though I know how tempting it is to wish pain and humiliation on our archrival. But like a junkie satisfying his base urge with a short-term fix, such behavior might not be in the best interest of the overall organism.
Still not convinced? Tune in to the next posting for reason number two.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved the Appalachian State loss as much as every one else. And to be fair, my cheers are never vocal (Woody forbid!) or even very conscious. It’s more like an underlying feeling that continually, if subconsciously, suggests: victory for Michigan is good for Ohio State.
Now, before you fly off the handle and holler, “Hey man, that’s crazy talk,” I can offer two reasons for such apparent madness.
First is the old adage which so defines the rivalry, and which I cited in the last posting: namely, “the team that has the most to lose usually does.” The last thing a Buckeye team wants to face—especially a #1 ranked Buckeye team—is a desperate Wolverine team. One with absolutely nothing to lose. A rabid Wolverine, one might say, looking to claim one last victim before the season ends and somebody shoots it in the head.
Instead, we want Michigan to have as much at stake as possible, nearly as much as the Bucks in an ideal world. Consider the 2006 season, when both teams were undefeated and ranked one and two heading into the Big Game. That is the ideal set up, and result. The Buckeyes not only won the game, but in doing so denied “That State Up North” the Big Ten Championship and a shot at the national title. A textbook three-in-one victory.
Last year’s loss to the Buckeyes stung so much, Michigan stars Mike Hart, Chad Henne and Jake Long all turned down certain millions in the NFL to instead play one more year in college. Three goals guided this decision: 1) beat Ohio State (something they have yet to do in their college careers), 2) win the Big Ten, and 3) win a national championship. Well, starting 0-2 on the season with a loss to a Division 1-AA team pretty much put a damper on goal three. But goals one and two are still very much alive. If Michigan were to lose between now and the Big Game, then only goal one would remain. And it would mean more to Hart, Henne, Long and crew than ever.
Recall that, immediately following last year’s game, a hurt and confused Mike Hart, with all the maturity of a third grader who had just lost a dodge ball game at recess, stated, “If we played again it would be a whole different story,” or words to similar effect. This doesn’t say much for his sportsmanship, but it speaks volumes about how bad they want to beat the Bucks. And if a victory over the Buckeyes were the only way to salvage their season, and prove that Hart, Henne and Long weren’t complete idiots for passing up millions by foregoing last year’s draft…well, that’s a rabid Wolverine if I’ve ever seen one.
This alone should provide a compelling reason to root for “that state up north” during the regular season, even though I know how tempting it is to wish pain and humiliation on our archrival. But like a junkie satisfying his base urge with a short-term fix, such behavior might not be in the best interest of the overall organism.
Still not convinced? Tune in to the next posting for reason number two.
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