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ScriptOhio
Everybody is somebody else's weirdo.
Home game under the lights vs Cheese in 2011
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Captain Buckeye
Legend
Normally I'm with Bucky till the end of the line but not this week lol
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Hype video gave me chills and definitely a Halloween vibe, that was awesome. But Halloween game, as it always seems to be now, is Ped State. We might not black out the stadium for that one, but it'll be scary how bad we black out the Pedsters.
Also, for good measure, fuck Bucky. When I was at OSU, Wisky turned into a rivalry just because the game was so damn competitive and we beat most other teams in the B1G with relative ease. Plus fatass Bielema was there and I couldn't stand him. So yeah, I have a healthy level of disdain for Bucky. I won't use the word "hate" though, that's reserved for one specific team...
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It's been a minute since we did a game preview. I don't even remember the last one that I was involved in. What I do remember about them is that I did stats only; I offered something beyond the stats twice. On one occasion when we played Navy, no one else wanted to wrestle with the Navy traditions section, so it landed on me. Then there was the time 15 years ago that I offered something beyond stats and the guys were kind enough to include it in the preview.
It's not exactly the 15th anniversary of when I wrote it; that won't happen until October 29th. It's not the 15th anniversary of the date of the Wisconsin game that this was written for; that won't happen until November 3rd. But tomorrow is the 2022 Wisconsin game, so it's the 15th anniversary to me. This was from the game preview, 2007.
(Introductory remarks redacted)
This game is personal to me. Not the game of football. Not the Buckeyes, though I do take the Bucks pretty seriously. I mean the game against Wisconsin ... any game against Wisconsin.
Perhaps this will make more sense if I start by telling you why Saturday's win over Penn State was special for me. The number that made that game special to me was 102.
Saturday was my grandfather's 102nd birthday. He always said he would live to 120, but alas I'm sure he was high-fiving Woody as Malcolm Jenkins trotted into the end-zone to put Penn State away.
He never talked about it, but he was abandoned as a child. He raised himself on the streets. Imagine the type of man you would expect such a child to become. Now imagine someone just that tough, but the opposite in every other way and you have my grandfather.
Blue collar to the core, he was the ironworkers' union president (though I never heard that from him). He did not smoke or drink and I never heard him swear, and yet he was the most popular man in his union (though I never heard that from him). He worked with his hands all his life, yet managed his affairs well enough that he drove a Cadillac in his retirement years.
I tell you this only so that you will know he was a great man; because what I want you to know is that he was a great Buckeye. I became a Buckeye at his knee:
First, sitting on the floor in front of him, watching his old black-and-white TV while he taught me names like Kern, Stillwagon and Brockington;
Later, sitting next to him in the 'Shoe, watching Griffin, Greene, Colzie, Cusick, Myers, Middleton and so many others including my hero, Randy Gradishar.
It is because of my grandfather that the ramp entrance raises the hair on the back of my neck. It is because of him that Script Ohio brings a tear to my eye.
I always think about him this time of year; not just because he made me a Buckeye, not just because 10/27 is his birthday, but also because of the events of this month in 1984.
On October 13, 1984, my younger brother and I sat in the South Stands and watched Keith Byars and an awesome offensive line crush Illinois and a 24-0 deficit for a 45-38 win. That was the last game I ever attended at the 'Shoe while the man who first took me there was alive.
A week and a half later we got the news that he'd had a heart attack. It wasn't his first, and he was the toughest man I'd ever known. I wasn't all that concerned.
I was sure he would be out in a few days, just like before. But he meant the world to me, so in spite of a full-time job and a full load of classes at OSU; I made time to see him in the hospital.
That Saturday, my thoughts were with my grandfather as I watched the Buckeyes play. I was concerned about the game too, as it was an opponent that had beaten us in 2 of our last 3 meetings. An opponent that had utterly no business getting the better of us for more than a series of downs. It was Wisconsin.
As I watched Lachey and Lowdermilk and other future NFL linemen struggle with boys that shouldn't have been on the field with them, I wondered if my grandfather was watching the game too. I would find out later that he was. I would find out later that, as I sat watching the final seconds, as the camera zoomed out with Keith Byars lying dejected on the Camp Randall field, my grandfather was lying in his hospital bed, his heart literally ... literally breaking for his Buckeyes.
To my own dying day I will believe that it was the heart attack he had that day that killed him. He hung on for two more days, long enough for my sister to fly across the continent to say goodbye, and died on Monday, October 29th, 1984. You will probably be reading this on Halloween or in November. But I wrote it on Monday, October 29th, 2007: Twenty three years, 1200 weeks exactly, a shade more than half my life, after he went to the Big Horseshoe in the Sky.
So pardon me for being a little irrational about the Wisconsin game.
If I could have picked one team to NOT have the Buckeyes struggle against since his death, it would be them.
OSU is only 5-4 in Ohio Stadium against Wisconsin since my grandfather died. They will not sink to .500 against the stinkin' Badgers. They ... will ... not. (2022 Comment: The Buckeyes are 11-1 against Wisconsin (undefeated at home) since I wrote this.)
Saturday, as I sit in front of my Hi-Def Plasma (2022 Comment: It's now a 4K OLED) and think about that little black-and-white that first showed me the Buckeyes, I want the team that ruined my grandfather's last Buckeye game to feel one millionth of the pain that they caused me. It is by far the cruelest thought I have ever had.
The most important numbers of this week, to me:
10/27/1905 -- 10/29/1984
SWC
It's not exactly the 15th anniversary of when I wrote it; that won't happen until October 29th. It's not the 15th anniversary of the date of the Wisconsin game that this was written for; that won't happen until November 3rd. But tomorrow is the 2022 Wisconsin game, so it's the 15th anniversary to me. This was from the game preview, 2007.
(Introductory remarks redacted)
This game is personal to me. Not the game of football. Not the Buckeyes, though I do take the Bucks pretty seriously. I mean the game against Wisconsin ... any game against Wisconsin.
Perhaps this will make more sense if I start by telling you why Saturday's win over Penn State was special for me. The number that made that game special to me was 102.
Saturday was my grandfather's 102nd birthday. He always said he would live to 120, but alas I'm sure he was high-fiving Woody as Malcolm Jenkins trotted into the end-zone to put Penn State away.
He never talked about it, but he was abandoned as a child. He raised himself on the streets. Imagine the type of man you would expect such a child to become. Now imagine someone just that tough, but the opposite in every other way and you have my grandfather.
Blue collar to the core, he was the ironworkers' union president (though I never heard that from him). He did not smoke or drink and I never heard him swear, and yet he was the most popular man in his union (though I never heard that from him). He worked with his hands all his life, yet managed his affairs well enough that he drove a Cadillac in his retirement years.
I tell you this only so that you will know he was a great man; because what I want you to know is that he was a great Buckeye. I became a Buckeye at his knee:
First, sitting on the floor in front of him, watching his old black-and-white TV while he taught me names like Kern, Stillwagon and Brockington;
Later, sitting next to him in the 'Shoe, watching Griffin, Greene, Colzie, Cusick, Myers, Middleton and so many others including my hero, Randy Gradishar.
It is because of my grandfather that the ramp entrance raises the hair on the back of my neck. It is because of him that Script Ohio brings a tear to my eye.
I always think about him this time of year; not just because he made me a Buckeye, not just because 10/27 is his birthday, but also because of the events of this month in 1984.
On October 13, 1984, my younger brother and I sat in the South Stands and watched Keith Byars and an awesome offensive line crush Illinois and a 24-0 deficit for a 45-38 win. That was the last game I ever attended at the 'Shoe while the man who first took me there was alive.
A week and a half later we got the news that he'd had a heart attack. It wasn't his first, and he was the toughest man I'd ever known. I wasn't all that concerned.
I was sure he would be out in a few days, just like before. But he meant the world to me, so in spite of a full-time job and a full load of classes at OSU; I made time to see him in the hospital.
That Saturday, my thoughts were with my grandfather as I watched the Buckeyes play. I was concerned about the game too, as it was an opponent that had beaten us in 2 of our last 3 meetings. An opponent that had utterly no business getting the better of us for more than a series of downs. It was Wisconsin.
As I watched Lachey and Lowdermilk and other future NFL linemen struggle with boys that shouldn't have been on the field with them, I wondered if my grandfather was watching the game too. I would find out later that he was. I would find out later that, as I sat watching the final seconds, as the camera zoomed out with Keith Byars lying dejected on the Camp Randall field, my grandfather was lying in his hospital bed, his heart literally ... literally breaking for his Buckeyes.
To my own dying day I will believe that it was the heart attack he had that day that killed him. He hung on for two more days, long enough for my sister to fly across the continent to say goodbye, and died on Monday, October 29th, 1984. You will probably be reading this on Halloween or in November. But I wrote it on Monday, October 29th, 2007: Twenty three years, 1200 weeks exactly, a shade more than half my life, after he went to the Big Horseshoe in the Sky.
So pardon me for being a little irrational about the Wisconsin game.
If I could have picked one team to NOT have the Buckeyes struggle against since his death, it would be them.
OSU is only 5-4 in Ohio Stadium against Wisconsin since my grandfather died. They will not sink to .500 against the stinkin' Badgers. They ... will ... not. (2022 Comment: The Buckeyes are 11-1 against Wisconsin (undefeated at home) since I wrote this.)
Saturday, as I sit in front of my Hi-Def Plasma (2022 Comment: It's now a 4K OLED) and think about that little black-and-white that first showed me the Buckeyes, I want the team that ruined my grandfather's last Buckeye game to feel one millionth of the pain that they caused me. It is by far the cruelest thought I have ever had.
The most important numbers of this week, to me:
10/27/1905 -- 10/29/1984
SWC
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muffler dragon
Bien. Bien chiludo.
I had never read that before @DaddyBigBucks. Thank you for posting it again.
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osuvictory1
Just a schlub from Y-town
If it has been posted already... please disregard. Per the Buckeye Talk podcast, Stephen Means while walking into view the Wed. practiced watched Denzel Burke walk into the media entrance late wearing street clothes and carrying food. Apparently he did not practice.
They didn't know what it meant, if anything, but it is something to think about.
Wondering if Knowles is giving him a mental health break to get his mind right. Kid is under pressure right now.
They didn't know what it meant, if anything, but it is something to think about.
Wondering if Knowles is giving him a mental health break to get his mind right. Kid is under pressure right now.
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ScriptOhio
Everybody is somebody else's weirdo.
Yeah, but it's just 12:06 AM, I'm going to bed. See ya later.
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If it's coming from Stephen Means, it was probably a grad assistant that he mistook for Burke.
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Drubuck
What time is it?
Good morning Buckeye Nation. Fuck Bucky. Fuck Bucky.Fuck BuckyFuck BuckyFuck BuckyFuck BuckyFuck BuckyFuck BuckyFuck BuckyFuck BuckyFuck BuckyFuck BuckyFuck BuckyFuck BuckyFuck BuckyFuck Bucky. Shit down their varmint hole. It's GAME DAY!!! TIME.2.GET.PPPPPUUUUMMMMPPPPEEEDDDD!!!!!!!!
O-H!!!
O-H!!!
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