That Meyer Magic

Being a fan of the Cleveland Cavaliers and Minnesota Vikings, I was really able to relate to this post:

The synopsis is more or less, that it is kind of nice, yet rare, to have that team you know you can count on.  The Cavs and Browns (and Vikings) all have historically let you down, and when things are bad, you kind of are conditioned to wait for the other shoe to drop.  When things are good, you’re still nervous and self conscious about some flaw or another.  I am so relieved that here in the heart of it all, we Ohio State fans have one of the few teams that fortune almost always favors, a group of guys who know history is on their side, and a fanbase with the confidence to be cocky and aloof when good.

Here, I just want to pay a little tribute to a man who gave me the only championship experience in my fanhood lifetime, Jim Tressel. Sure, he had some odd views on punts and ultimately could have ended his tenure in a better fashion, but so could have Woody Hayes, and that man is a legendary great.  So is Tressel. End of story.  The man was the embodiment of the confidence to be classy and aloof.  In a rising tide of spread offense, Tressel knew THE Ohio State University didn’t need to pay heed to the winds of innovation and incorporate the spread and hurry up; he can eschew any new fad, play three yards and a could of dust, dominate the Big Ten, and put OSU in consistent title talk.  Crazy blitz schemes to generate big pays? Not when you can play sound, boring, stifling D.  And all the advance stats in the world could never convince the man that THE Ohio State University should not always punt on 4th and 2.

And you know what? He was right! And it was awesome!  That kind of swagger to plug your ears, follow your gut, and ram your philosophies down others throats is the kind of thing only the greats can do.  Ohio State and Tressel are the two of greats here for many in the Midwest. And I think I can confidently forecast Urban Meyer joining that soon.

That was the best part of watching the Indiana game. Getting to here the swagger story of Meyer telling Guitton “Go win this game” and Guitton doing just that. We won by the skin of our teeth, to INDIANA!  But I ain’t mad atcha coach. You reminded me that we buckeyes fans can always count on things tending to work out for us, that we can sit back, relax, and wait for good things to happen. If that was a Cavs or Browns or Vikings team putting a great season on the line to some scrub, there is no way I don’t turn the game off in disgust with 3 minutes left.  Even last season, with Luke Fickell, the Buckeyes clearly didn’t have the same feel. But through the first 7 games, we were all building up the case that Meyer was bringing us back to the world class confidence.  When our backup QB Kenny G played that sick jazz concert on the last drive, I was convinced. Same old Buckeyes, the only fan base I can say that about when they are having their way.

Yesterday I watched OSU struggle badly through the first half against a hot and incredibly motivated Penn state team playing with only the blind race to a division title to numb the pain of some pretty horrific months they’ve endured. We were playing in one of the most hostile environments I’ve ever been able to identify on a TV screen. I never faltered in knowing we would take care of business.  The second half started with OSU LB Ryan Shazier’s pick six, more quick scoring, and the new Urban Meyer version of the Same Old Buckeyes.


Free Falling For the Uni-Brow

Congratulations to our Kentucky friends on the National Championship on Monday.  You bring us into the new era of one and done’s actually winning the last game of the college hoops season, or so saith most of the sports media world who never use hyperbole to embellish a story. For that, you may have a truely lasting legacy. (You know, something Kentucky is weak on in the college hoops department)

I was watching the game with great hopes that Cavalier’s GM Dan Gilbert’s son, Nick, works his draft mojo again and we win the great privileged to draft the Brow.  Anthony Davis’s ceiling is as high as any draft candidates since Lebron and his defense in the paint is as thick as the strip of hair betwixt his eyes.  He would truly be incredible to watch blossom alongside Swirving Irving, and the Cavs would cement their status as OKC 2.0.

That is pretty much the only solace to be taken from the rest of the Cavaliers injury ridden spectacle of a season, that their futility results in lottery balls bouncing their way and the selection of Anthony Davis.  If that comes to fruition, surely they will refute Aaron’s likeness between watching Cleveland sports and drinking a Miller or Bud.  After watching the last 8 game losing streak, I can affirm he is currently correct that “If you try to sit through a full one, it will normally end up more painful than enjoyable”.  Anthony Davis would immediately cleanse that cheap beer aftertaste and put us on that Gulden Draak plateau of delicacies, a robust product that leaves the refined pallet satisfied, with intoxicating results.

To the Draft, until then I’ll be sipping from the draft trying to forget that I ever knew who Lester Hudson was.