It's that time of year again. That time of year where university officials dutifully soak campus dumpsters with water and pray for rain on Saturday. The time where every radio personality on air from Thursday to the end of Sunday is blatantly and unregrettably drunk butchering away mercilessly at "Hang on Sloopy". Where every other well-known song gets turned into a parody incorporating college football, and every otherwise-unforgivable act can be quickly and effectively patched by screaming, "GO BUCKS!"
"Hey, sorry about that three-way with your sister and your wife last weekend; they were asking for it."
"What the--"
"GO BUCKS!!"
"W00t!"
For when it comes to the Ohio State vs. Michigan game, all bets and rules are forgotten, even forsaken. For on Game Day Saturday, everyone except Ohio State and Ohio State supporters are whores. Put a Michigan jersey on Jesus and even a devout Christian becomes conflicted. Nothing is sacred except for Ohio State football. People become invincible, offensive, bulletproof, and incredibly, incredibly wasted. Buckeyes football is a pass to pretty much any sort of illogical behavior, including but definitely not limited to: wearing the same clothes all week long without washing them (not too shocking, as I do this all the time anyway), body paint being an acceptible substitute for aforementioned clothing, paying more money for hamburgers because they're branded as Brutus-approved, being all right with less pepperoni on your pizza because it's shaped in a Block O (am I allowed to say that without trademark recognition?), and setting unattended furniture, people, vehicles, etc., ablaze and putting out the flames with your own beer-fueled urine. On game day, everyone is 21 and not a goddamn day older. Pagentry can only cover you for the tailgate, not the afterparty.
I asked my friend Jesse what he ended up doing last night (the Thursday preceding the "Big Game"):
Jesse: well, eneded up going to larry's and having some fun
Jesse: watched some absolute retardation all over the campus area
Jesse: people jump in mirror lake
KristineEL: Yeah I heard about that.
KristineEL: fucking idiots.
Jesse: mud, blood, titties
Jesse: hypothermia
Jesse: saw two car accidents
Jesse: and one guy fall out of the back of a truck
Jesse: but he landed pretty much on his feet
Jesse: impressive kind of
Jesse: someone screamed 'O-H' at him
KristineEL: and?
Jesse: he responded appropriately
KristineEL: sigh.
I know every Big Ten town has its traditions -- fine. As I said, the pagentry itself is awesome. I've been to an Ohio State vs. Michigan game in the shoe. I've been to a bowl game in Texas. The script Ohio is nifty and creative; no one is going to challenge its importance to Ohio State football. Moreover, the year that I went to Ohio State/Michigan here at the Horseshoe, I saw a physical fight between an 80-year old man and a 35-year old woman. At the bowl game, people could care less about the Alamo and more about publicly humiliating Oklahoma State fans and their children, all the while sharing the same vacation. There is no love from Ohio State football if you are not part of Ohio State football. Sportsmanship on OSU campus pretty much consists of "playing dumb" when the opposing team's fans ask you if you know who tipped their car over. Don't get me wrong, there is a solid sense of community here. But just for the right people.
The local news is warning incoming (and local) Michigan fans not to wear their branded Michigan gear anywhere near the stadium, and if they are approached by a mob of scarlet and grey to contact the police immediately. Anyone with Michigan plates is advised to park elsewhere or fake Buckeye support. Someone should've warned the Brooklyn-based Blue Man Group that it was game day weekend before they put their show on last night at Nationwide Arena. Before the show, the crowd erupted into a relatively strong O-H-I-O chant, which would've been fine. Once. Anytime throughout the show where a moment of silence befell the crowd, someone else started (and returned) the O-H chant. Tracy Bonham looked confused.
During the intermission between her set and the opening set of the BMG, the crowd of several thousand people simultaneously divided itself from a half-stadium into 4 distinct sections and began a cascading O, H, I, O around the building, which was stronger and louder than any of the applause the BMG got all evening. I wanted to leave out of embarrassment. My sister and I were talking about the evening's several themed chants on our walk back to the car. To elude the high parking fees I parked in "my spot", which although is free, is quite a trek through a sort of desolate, non-desirable, ill lit area. I saw a police car parked in side street up ahead and for once, breathed a sigh of relief.
"Hey, there's a cop up there so we'll be fine walking through here," I said to my sister pointing at the white car parked ahead.
"Good."
We approached the vehicle and the cop (who looked about my age) rolled down the window a bit and smiled at us.
"You ladies all right?"
My sister smiled and answered, "Yes, thank you," before I interjected.
"But if you see anyone come out and jump us, if you'd come help us out that'd be awesome."
"Haha," he laughed. "Will do."
We walked for about another minute past the cruiser before we heard, out of nowhere, an "O-H!" belted out over some sort of microphone. A second microphone belted out, "I-O!".
My sister and I simultaneously turned around to see that a police paddywagon had stopped in the middle of the street, holding up a few cars, to use the PA system to throw the Ohio chant to the other cruiser who gladly returned it. We shook our heads and continued to walk when we heard a car slowing down to approach us. It was the paddywagon, which we figured had come along to escort us on this rainy, dark evening to our car pretty much located next to an abandoned warehouse.
I heard the power window, then the cackle of the loudspeaker and a small pause enough for us to both look over, before the officer again belted out,
"O-H!"
Oh, God.
