ULTIMATE SPORTS ROAD TRIP
Take a trip to Columbus to mingle with fervent Ohio State Buckeye fans,
Ritual, it is often said, is an expression of faith. In Ohio, the religion is football and the faithful wear red. Well, more specifically, scarlet. And grey.
On Saturdays in the fall, the most fervent fans pack Ohio Stadium, home of the Ohio State Buckeyes, the reigning national champions, and the No. 1 university football team in the United States.
Lest anyone think this is simply a sport, or a sunny intercollegiate activity, the stained-glass windows featuring the most-sainted players of the past on the front of the team’s nearly 105,000-seat stadium — think Rogers Centre times two — will soon set you straight.
If the 19-foot panels are one indication, another is that a ticket to even enter this temple and sit in the upper reaches — closer to heaven than to the field — starts at $110 (U.S.). And that’s on Stubhub.com, which is the easy way to get them. Most of the university’s students and alumni rely on a lottery system just for the chance to buy a ticket.
With the first option unappealing and the second unavailable, I reached out to some media connections this October before setting off on the seven-hour drive to Columbus from Toronto. My son and I were going to witness the extravaganza that is U.S. college football. From the 192-strong marching band, to the tailgaters laying claim to the parking lots before 8 a.m., to the 107,839 worshippers spilling out of the stands, we’re in search of a spectacle that has no match north of the border.
Although the state of Ohio has two professional football teams, in terms of devotion, neither comes close to rivalling the Buckeyes’ following. It has redefined all notions of decorum. Asin here isn’t attacking an opposing player on the sidelines, as the sacred Woody Hayes did when leading the team in the ’70s. Though such zeal was seen as a tad unseemly and did lead to his ouster, it didn’t stop the university from naming the street leading to the stadium in his honour.
A sin here has nothing to do with academic misdemeanours or student-athlete scandals. A sin here is not to win. For that, there is no forgiveness.
Winning hasn’t been a problem lately. The team is undefeated this season, and 43-4 in the four seasons since head coach Urban Meyer took over the program. It’s that kind of record that has drawn fans from across the country, many wearing jackets declaiming the distances they’ve travelled (“Buckeye Nation — Texas”). They’ve come to see their beloved Buckeyes strike down the University of Maryland, today’s foe, with great vengeance and anger.
Strictly speaking, they’re not here to see a football game, or at the very least, not a good one. The bookies in Vegas have Maryland losing by at least five touchdowns. The aim this afternoon is to rejoice in David being pummelled by Goliath and then fed to the lions — righteous, scarlet-wearing, Ohio State lions. That’s why they’re here.
We’re in Columbus, a place I knew little about other than that it’s home to Ohio State and the NHL Blue Jackets. The presence of a pro hockey team suggests a certain stature. Indeed, it’s the largest city in Ohio, as well as its capital. Columbus is bigger than both Cleveland, two hours to the north, and Cincinnati, almost the same distance south. And unlike its better-known kin, it’s an extremely happening place, with a vibrant and packed downtown core, at least on the weekends.
Starting with the Nationwide Arena, where the Blue Jackets play, then crossing the street to a superb farmer’s market, the city centre seems designed to draw people in, then dazzle them with options. The centre of the action is known as the Short North, a stretch of local restaurants, shops, bars and cafes just “short of the campus but north of the downtown.” It’s all devoutly local.
If there is anything as generically global as, God forbid, a Starbucks, it’s obviously hiding. I know, because I searched for it.
Walking north from the market, the Short North starts just past the bronze statue of Arnold Schwarzenegger. On seeing it, my son says that he never knew Schwarzenegger was from Ohio. I wasn’t actually aware of a connection either, but it turns out that every March, Columbus hosts the Arnold Sports Festival, a threeday Arniepalooza drawing 18,000 weightlifting fanatics.
I’m not sure that’s the time I’d choose to come to Columbus. Football, on the other hand, well, that’s just a far more divine pursuit. And as we settle into our seats, we let the spectacle engulf us. The student band, a veritable ballet of brass instruments and drums, marches row after row into the stadium. Known as “The Best Damn Band in the Land,” they have such a devoted following that if you want to watch them warm up, you have to arrive at their practice site before 7:30 a.m. to get a spot.
Their march into the stadium is a prelude to the action, the most hallowed moment being when they spell out Ohio in script and a senior-year sousaphone player dots the I.
From there, the rituals go forth and multiply. Each section of the stadium takes its turn chanting a letter until an O-H-I-O swirls round and round like a vocal wave, increasing in frenzy with each pass. Meanwhile, soldiers in fatigues sit behind the north end zone waiting for their cue. They will match in pushups every point the Buckeyes score in the game.
Alas today, there are all too few push-ups being done for much of the game. At one point late in the third quarter, the score is tied at 21and the people behind us seemed to have edged past despair and disbelief and are verging on fury. However they managed to secure their seats ($85, 27 rows up), this is not what they’ve come to see.
A friend mentions that during the last game he attended, a few seasons ago, Ohio’s beloved mascot Brutus was unceremoniously tackled by his counterpart across the field. The incident sparked such ill will that the offender was apparently suspended from school. Yet it seems universally agreed that if Brutus was burned at the stake in midfield today, it would pale compared to losing to a 33-point underdog on homecoming weekend.
Mercifully, Ohio State’s dominance is gradually affirmed. Having battled beyond their means for much of the game, Maryland eventually succumbs to the relentless roar of the crowd and the superior prowess of the stronger team. With each additional, unnecessary touchdown, the fervour is whipped to a new level. Soon, even Brutus is doing pushups.
When the home team has finally prevailed, one last tradition is revealed. Brutus, the band and the team gather in the south end zone and sing “Carmen Ohio” to the students in the stands. Win or lose, they lock arms and serenade the faithful. “Oh come, let’s sing Ohio’s praise . . .” begins the song. It’s a fitting end to a spectacular day.