Thank you all, I'll try and keep this brief.
I feel that this position was not made to me as a man, but to my passion for the Buckeyes–a life's work in the agony, sweat and triumphs of the Buckeye spirit, not for glory and least of all for profit, but to create out of the materials of the Buckeye spirit something which did not exist before. So this position is only mine in trust. It will not be difficult to find a dedication for the money part of it, since there is very little vCash involved. But I would like to do the same with the acclaim too, by using this moment as a pinnacle from which I might be listened to by the young men and women already dedicated to the same anguish and travail, the same joy and triumph, among whom is already that one who will some day stand where I am standing.
Our tragedy today is a general and universal physical hunger so long sustained by now that we can even bear it. There are no longer problems of the spirit. There is only one question: When is the (SBC) Michigan game? Because of this, the young Buckeye has forgotten the problems of the Buckeye heart in conflict with other Big Ten rivals, this alone can make good Buckeyes, because only that is worth becoming, worth the agony and the sweat. He must learn them again. He must teach himself that the basest of all things is to be afraid: and, teaching himself that, forget it forever, leaving no room in his heart for anything but the old virtues and truths of Buckeye spirit, the universal truths lacking which rend any competition ephemeral and doomed–love and honor and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice. Until all Buckeyes do so, they labor under a PCP curse. They have not love for the Buckeyes but lust for paint chips, of defeats in which nobody loses anything of value, and victories without honor, without pity or compassion. His Buckeye losses grieve on no universal bones, leaving no scars. He rejoices not of the heart but of the glands.
Until he learns these things, he will cheer as though he stood among and watched the Buckeyes lose to Michigan. I decline to accept this ending. It is easy enough to say that the Buckeyes are immortal because they will endure: that when the last whistle has echoed and faded from the last worthless row of that shit hole Michigan Stadium, that even then there will still be one more sound: that of the Victors. I refuse to accept this. I believe that the Buckeyes will not merely endure: we will prevail. The Buckeyes are immortal, not because they alone among fans have an inexhaustible voice, but because Buckeyes have a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. A Buckeye's duty is to embrace these things. It is his privilege to help the team endure by lifting their hearts, by reminding them of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of Buckeyes past. Our voice need not merely be the record of our team, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help the Buckeyes endure and prevail.
I humbly accept your nomination for Presidency of the BKA ... sombitches!
NOTE: If I suddenly succumb to some mysterious illness, BuckNutty (as VP, and next in line) will ascend to the Presidency. Rather convenient don't you think? Take a close look at that sombitch, because I know he wants this job bad ... real bad. I mean, he'd do a good job and all, I'd just rather not be dead.
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...3yards!