This should spark something...
Lantern
Jesus Jim and the Buckeyes
Scott Woods
Issue date: 10/30/06
Section: Sports
Good news, fellow Buckeyes. For those of us who drink like Liza Minnelli, smoke like, well, me, and have unprotected pre-marital sex like inner-city high school girls, Jim Tressel and Co. have the answer we've all been looking for: Drug-dealing hookers ... er ... Jesus.
Walking back to my car after class is definitely the most nerve-wracking part of my day. Deftly eluding cup-shaking transients and still-sticky piles of vomit, my mind is always on my windshield. Did the parking police notice the expired tags on my stolen car? Did they see the bumper sticker that says "I hate cops"? Did they smell the 125 pounds of marijuana I have smuggled in my trunk? The last thing I need is a damn ticket; that's why my stomach dropped like a residence hall elevator when I saw the piece of paper flapping from under my windshield wiper. As I got a little closer, however, I realized what I thought was a ticket was actually much worse.
"(We) have made the decision to ask Jesus into our lives," read the glossy, parking ticket-shaped pieces of cardboard featuring the photos of Ohio State football players David Patterson, Roy Hall, Joel Penton, Stan White Jr. and coach Tressel. "We ask you to consider making the same personal choice. We aren't perfect, and we don't have all the answers, but we do have forgiveness, direction, and satisfaction through our relationship with Jesus."
The flier is promoting "The Main Event," an event so main it's being held at St. John Arena with special guests Tressel (head football coach and employee of the state of Ohio), former Jesus in cleats Craig Krenzel, members of the OSU marching band (who will presumably be performing the incomparable "Script Jesus"), cheerleaders and of course Brutus Buckeye, who goes with Jesus like cottage cheese goes with vodka.
So here's the problem: Why are our football players and our paid-by-tax dollars coach shoving Jesus down our throats like we're Paris Hilton at a ____? (Feel free to finish this one yourself. What do you think this is, UWeekly?)
Because that's the way sports have always been. Athletes don gold crosses encrusted with precious gems because, of course, that's what Jesus wants them to spend their money on. Coaches and religious figures lead prayer circles on the field after games. Kickers point to the heavens to thank God for adjusting wind directions.
Don't get me wrong - there's nothing inherently wrong with being Christian, just like there's nothing wrong with worshiping cows or Allah or Satan - to each his own. The Jesus in sports phenomenon, however, tends to strike me as elitist and just slightly non-inclusive, especially at OSU, a public institution that spends tax dollars to pay our Jesus-preaching coach.
"Whoever believes in Me is not condemned but whoever does not believe stands condemned already," said Jesus next to the fourth bullet point on the flier.
Sweet. So according to members of the OSU football team and Tressel, I'm going straight to hell. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. Condemned to the fiery pits of Satan by a wooden little man in a sweater vest and his players who are obviously so closed-minded and oblivious to what's going on in the real world they wouldn't recognize diversity and acceptance if they came disguised as Jesus himself. My message to Tressel: Back off the Crusade and focus your attention on things we pay you for - eluding questions from the media and beating M*ch*g*n. After all, Jesus is a Notre Dame fan.
Scott Woods is a senior in journalism and sports editor at The Lantern. He can be condemned to hell at [email protected].