There was a blissfully marvelous time not that long ago when the Ohio State blogosphere served as an escape from the challenges of everyday life.
Trouble on the home front?
Take a break by perusing the Buckeye sites.
Boss pissing you off?
There’s got to be something good in the forums that will cheer you up. Hurriedly shuffling to the office bathroom after that second cup of coffee? The bathroom stall is your Valhalla, the smartphone your obedient digital servant and the numerous Buckeye scribes of the Internet your travel agents for a much-needed holiday from life.
At least we used to be. Now it seems that just about everything you’re reading is about waiting for the NCAA’s other shoe to drop. These days our blogosphere isn’t quite the vacation that it used to be. Buckeye football hasn’t felt normal since Denard Robinson was rolling up seven fat points in Ohio Stadium last November.
A few days after the sixth straight conference championship, Dave Biddle broke the news of that whole unfortunate tattoo thing and ever since then there has been a pall hanging over your favorite escape. It’s bad enough when it rains on one day of your vacation; it’s a whole different level of suck when it’s wet the entire week.
The Sugar Bowl and National Signing Day aside, there hasn’t been anything worth escaping to since that disastrous March 8 press conference, and it’s not going to change until there’s a conclusion to the NCAA investigation of Jim Tressel. Even after their resolution – whenever it arrives – there’s no guarantee that the closure is going to be any less painful than what we’ve experienced while twisting in the wind.
Yesterday, the AP published an interview with Gene Smith in which he called the entire ordeal, “a nightmare.” In case you forgot, Smith has sat on both the NCAA’s infractions and rules committees. He’s seen enough nightmares to know what they look like, has helped define what makes up a nightmare and has played witness and jury to how they ultimately end, so when he calls Ohio State’s self-inflicted ordeal a nightmare, well, he would know. But enough of that for now.
Today is April 20th. It’s the birthday of both Wrigley Field and Adolph Hitler; two iconic losers on opposite sides of the lovability index. That Deepwater Horizon oil well exploded one year ago today, filling the Gulf of Mexico with nothing you would ever want to have pouring into a gigantic food supply and economic engine. The Bay of Pigs invasion officially failed 50 years ago today, and Fidel Castro actually retired earlier this week, so we can finally say it: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. Happy 50th Bay of Pigs invasion!
April 20th should have been a day that we celebrated the dawn of a new era for the freshly-botoxed Purdue Pete as we debated if he looks more like an undead Patrick Swayze or a cleanly-shaven King Leonidas from the Muppet version of 300. Alas, the new Pete was debuted and quickly retired in favor of the current, comforting Pete, who looks like the offspring of the Scream mask and Liza Minnelli. For an athletic department like Purdue’s that supports the fewest varsity sports in the conference to go with a pitiful amount of titles in anything, rehabbing Pete shouldn’t be at the top of the to-do list. Or at the bottom. Or on the list at all, as they now realize.
This year’s Ohio State seniors STOP IT DON’T THINK ABOUT THE TATGATE THING RIGHT NOW THIS PARAGRAPH ISN’T ABOUT THAT have the chance to be the fifth consecutive senior class to leave school with four pairs of gold pants STOP IT NO EBAY JOKES NOT NOW NOT EVER. It would be an astonishing feat, and considering that Michigan should be hot garbage this season as Brady Hoke attempts to convert Rich Rodriguez’s system players into Michigan football players, that landmark achievement is well-within grasp, regardless of who is coaching the Buckeyes.
Ugh. That again.
Prior to this current run of 4-0 classes, the only seniors that could have earned four charms were the ones in the class of ’37 (who were freshmen in 1934 when the gold pants tradition was born) and the class of ’63. Since the dawn of time, those two classes along with the classes of ’07, ’08, ’09, ’10 and potentially this year’s guys are the only ones to go four-for-four. If there is a single statistic that illustrates how lopsided this rivalry has become within the context of its entire history, that’s the one. Speaking of Michigan, you know who else received four gold pants charms for beating them at Ohio State? Bo Schembechler. WOAH
Michigan and Ohio State are on opposing sides of the Legends and Leaders division thing for the sole purpose of creating a potential rematch in a B1G championship game, despite the poor probability and simple math that those decision makers ignored in aligning them that way. Regardless, Jim Delany and his yes-men put their money on “so you’re telling me there’s a chance.”
That being said, however remote the chance is that the Buckeyes and Wolverines could eventually meet on some future December Saturday in Indianapolis or wherever else the conference’s Money Bowl is played down the road, perhaps both schools should consider wearing their home uniforms at the neutral site. The argument for doing so begins and ends with “because it would look cool.” Sometimes that’s reason enough.
Last week I entered a restroom as a couple of guys were leaving. They walked directly from the urinals to the door, bypassing the sink and celebrating the fact that neither of them “pissed on their hands” and thus saved the precious 20 seconds they would have expended minimizing the chance of them spreading diseases by washing up. For the epidemiologically-challenged, washing your hands isn’t something that’s necessitated by touching pee or poo or anything else that’s obviously gross.
The last time you got sick it probably wasn’t because you touched something you consciously knew was diseased and revolting. Maybe you did, but the time before that it wasn’t.
That’s because most gross stuff that gets you sick is hard to see. Washing your hands whenever you go to a restroom is a good idea because that’s where sinks tend to be. Whether you realize it or not, you’re filthy and disgusting. You should get together with some soap and water whenever possible.
Sure, sometimes the entire exercise is compromised by one of those completely idiotic paper towel dispensers that require you to stick your finger into what’s basically a filthy plastic hole to spin the towels out, but situations like that are what pants are for, because aside from substituting for napkins and towels, pants serve no purpose.
Yesterday, I got a Facebook request from someone asking if I was the Ramzy from Bucknuts, which is funny because very recently I received another one asking if I was the Ramzy from Eleven Warriors. While I am full-time at Eleven Warriors and still write weekly (like, yesterday) I am still a humble contributor to Mr. B’s awesome media empire and have been for the better part of a dozen years. In that vein, I’ll probably always be Ramzy from Bucknuts. People still called Prince “Prince” even after he changed his name to that crazy symbol. By the way, in no way am I comparing myself to Prince. I’m much, much taller.
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