Benny Jay: Ohio State v. Michigan In The Big House

November 23rd, 2009

It’s football Saturday in the United States of America and I’m in Ann Arbor for the Big Game: Ohio State versus the University of Michigan.

I got a ticket from my cousin’s kid, Josh, who’s a junior at Michigan studying music. The kid sings like an angel and he knows all the words to every song ever written and if things break the right way you’ll see him on Broadway or the Metropolitan Opera House. Trust me….

At the moment, Josh is playing his role as big man on campus, leading me and my younger daughter through throngs of people lining both sides of the street, and almost shouting to be heard above the roar of the frat boys, who got the rap music blasting from the huge speakers on the porches and in the windows of fraternity row.

“We gotta get your ticket validated,” Josh is explaining.

It’s all a part of his elaborate scheme to get me — a fifty-something-year-old geezer — into the student section of the big house.

Oops, my bad — I mean, The Big House, as in the 106,000-seat football stadium which folks in Michigan treat like a holy temple.

Did I tell you I’m excited? Well, I am — exceedingly, almost embarrassingly, so. I got my University of Michigan baseball hat perched on my head, and I feel like the kid I used to be, climbing the stairs — two steps at a time — to the upper balcony in the old Chicago Stadium to watch the great Stormin’ Norman Van Lier and all his comrades on the Bulls battle for Truth, Justice and the American Way….

It’s funny — me being so excited. I didn’t go Michigan. I went to some rinky-dink liberal arts college in nowheresville, Wisconsin. In fact, now that we’re on the subject, one of the main reasons I went to that Tater Tot school, as opposed to somewhere cool, like Michigan, is because my best friend went there. If there’s a dumber reason for selecting a college, I’ll need a moment to think of it. About three months into the school year my friend and fought — as in fists flailing and bodies thrashing — over a girl. After it was over, I lay in bed wondering: What the hell have I done with my life?

Josh leads us through the carnival of maize-and-blue-bedecked fans — who are singing the Michigan fight song or cursing Ohio State — and into the Big House itself. Oh, exalted shrine — I’m not worthy. Down the stairs we walk — down, down, down endless flights of concrete steps to our place just behind the band near the north goal line.

Every one’s trying to fight the gloom and doom. Michigan hasn’t beat Ohio State in six years, and they’re supposed to get blown out today. That’s cause Michigan’s current coach, Rich Rodriguez, is not nearly as good as the previous one, Lloyd Carr, who wasn’t half as good as the legendary Coach Bo Schembechler.

As a matter of fact, the stadium announcer’s telling us that several players from Coach Bo’s 1969 squad — the first he coached — are here to celebrate one of his greatest triumphs. It was forty years ago that Ohio State — undefeated and ranked number one in the nation — marched onto this very field and got their butts whooped by Coach Bo’s boys.

“Those who stay will be champions,” Coach Bo promised his team at the start of the season. And, dang it, he made good on his vow….

The announcer calls out their names. And as these geezers — even older than me, if that’s possible — limp onto the field, I put on my shades to hide my tears. God, I’m getting sentimental in my old age….

I’m sitting with Josh and his pals from the Men’s Glee Club. There’s this one dude in front of me — call him Baby Bo — who reminds me of me some thirty years ago in that he knows every fact, every detail, about his favorite team.

“All I want is for Michigan to beat Ohio State just once,” he says. “Is that too much to ask?”

The game begins and we sing, chant, and yell as, miracle of miracles, the clouds part and the sun comes out.

“The sky is Michigan blue,” says Josh. “It’s for Bo Schemblecher….”

“That’s Schembechler,” corrects Baby Bo.

“I misspoke….”

“That’s like mispronouncing Jesus….”

“I’m sorry — I’m a little tongue tied. I’m emotional….”

“Fair enough….”

Ohio State grabs an early lead and it looks like the blowout we expected. But, no, here come the Wolverines, clawing their way back until it’s the fourth quarter and they’re down ten and inside the Ohio State ten-yard line. The quarterback throws a pass for the end zone….

Intercepted!

All the air escapes the Big House balloon with a mighty hissss….

Fans file out — like they can’t stand the sight of another Ohio State victory.

Baby Bo slumps onto the bleachers. He looks heartbroken — all he wanted was one win over Ohio State. Just one….

I want to impart a little wisdom from the geezer in the student section. If losing the Big Game — like going to the wrong college — is the worse that happens to him, well, he’s done all right.

But I leave him alone. He’s young. His whole life’s ahead of him. He’ll learn….