No, It's Not the Apocalypse--It's Football Season in Ohio (The Second Half)

Second Half (continued from last week...)

Top seven pieces of evidence that in this matter of OSU fanaticism I do not jest:

1. The fact that while the majority of males in the world bleed red-- Ohio boys bleed scarlet.

2. The long held debate as to which came first: the Ohio State Buckeyes (as in the team) or Buckeyes (as in the seeds) that can be found on trees throughout the state (an inordinate –I’m pretty sure--number of which are in my father’s backyard).

3. The existence of Buckeye offspring and offshoots, which include the best tasting ball of chocolate and peanut butter you will ever be so fortunate to put in your mouth and a perennial no-fail go-to Halloween costume for all ages that will inspire high fives (and perhaps other odd male gestures) because dressing up like Brutus makes you a winner. No matter what.

4. The uncontested truth that should a woman commit the faux pas of scheduling her wedding on an in-season Saturday afternoon, she will either be A) secretly cursed behind her back for the rest of her life or B) standing alone at the altar.

5. The fact that the short phrase “Script Ohio”* is readily identifiable and meaningful to even the youngest of Ohio residents.

6. The fact that the following conservation does not sound nearly as unlikely to any good Ohio boy than it does to you: “No, Megan Fox, I cannot fly out to have a picnic with you and your bikini on the beach next Saturday. What do you mean why? Are you kidding me? Ohio State is playing. No, it doesn’t make a difference that Gisele is coming too.”

7. Ditto for “Well, he’ll just have to be buried tomorrow.”

As I mentioned earlier, current residency** does little to diminish a native Ohio boy’s undying love and loyalty to the Buckeyes. Natives elsewhere are just as likely to disappear and hunker down at either 1) the aforementioned “OSU” bars, which are strategically located in every city with a population above two, or 2) in the basements of fellow Bruti.***

Last week I was IMing with one such native who currently lives in California. Please keep at the forefront of your mind, that it was Monday. I asked him what he was up to, and he replied “Oh, you know, just preparing for Saturday.” Now, usually if a man says on Monday that he is preparing for Saturday it means he is taking his state bar exam… for the third time. But if an Ohio man says this, it means exactly one thing: “The Buckeyes are playing.” My friend, under the condition of anonymity, agreed to allow me to share with my readers his take on the need for Ohio boys to ritualize their fanaticism. I won’t go into all of the details, but do know that parallels to the way girls prepare for prom, to the way women prepare for the birth of their baby, and to the way candidates prepare for the Presidential election were made—and made quite well, I might add.

Ohio women, of course, are pros at dealing with all of this.

We know not to panic should we be walking the dog down the street one Saturday afternoon in the fall and notice that in almost every half cut yard a lawn mower runs idly at a standstill without an operator. In this case, we do not wonder if the males of the neighborhood have been abducted, as the much more sensible explanation is that the game is on.

Primed from a young age, we know, too, how to gracefully dodge any flying object while crossing the family room during the game. We do not hold such potentially violent actions against our brothers, dads, boyfriends, or husbands. Ohio women also know to never ever ever marry a Michigan fan. At any given moment, in fact, at least 39 Michigan boys are fleeing across Ohio lawns from rifle-wielding angry fathers-in-law. And—contrary to popular belief-- we Ohio women also know that real men, in fact, do use gray puffy paint.

*Case in point—my little brother’s current FB profile picture: It’s not a bird! It’s not a plane! It’s not even his face! It’s…half time at the OSU game!

** Unless of course an Ohio boy moved to Michigan. In this case, stoning is appropriate from both sides.

***Bruti, as has been seen in recent events, always take one for the team—whether that be opening their homes to other wandering OSU souls or being pounded by some stupid Bobcat (Go on, little brother, admit it. You’re proud I even knew that).