So two days later, I think I’ve finally figured out how to discuss the Ohio State-Michigan game in an FCC-friendly way. Actually, I’ve been alternating between drinking, sleeping, driving, watching the Browns suck ass again, driving some more, visiting family, and sleeping again to have any time to discuss the Ohio State-Michigan game, but, thanks to a few faithful readers (two OSU fans and a neutral site with the same “What in the wide wide world of sports is going on out there?” attitude I had), I can turn this into a question and answer session.

OPENING STATEMENT:
The only thing that didn’t play true to form in this game was the temperature.
-Near flat gray sky? Check.
-The down and out team rising up and knocking of the clear favorite? Check.
-Drunken idiots? Check (times 105,000 and me later on…see part two).
-One team taking the game by the throat, but having a moment of “uh oh, they’re coming back” creep into their heads? Kinda check.

There’s more, but you get the idea. Something just felt right about OSU jumping out on top early (is it too soon to start saying that Ernest Shazor slipped? I mean, that’s gotta be the reason anyone would give up a big play in a big game, right?), getting everyone jacked up, then Michigan working like a machine to move ahead 14-7. Even after OSU tied it up and then got a total of 3 points out of two separate first and goals inside the 4, it felt like Michigan would get to the locker room, wake up, and put up 35 in the second half to take care of it. Instead, OSU is the team that found the jugular, and Michigan looked like the team that showed up for the last 3 1/2 quarters at Notre Dame, and the first 3 1/2 quarters against Michigan State.

I’m not big on the idea the “no matter what you do the rest of the year, beating your rival makes the season” theory, but when you’re playing for a team like Michigan, where you clearly have three major rivals on your schedule, not to mention the offensive weapons they have (they get a slight pass for the ND game, since Henne was still figuring things out, and Michael Hart was forced into duty from the third string that day, but regardless…) you would think they could come out and get jacked up for those games, and put them away. Or at least make them close. They got kicked around by ND’s defense, then eventually, ND’s offense, they got manhandled by MSU until 7 minutes left in the game, and OSU made them look like the coaches forgot to tell them the opponent might blitz on occasion. An ugly day, for sure.

Now onto the questions, posed by my lovely readers:

Kurt writes:
WOW! All I can say is Ted Ginn Jr., is fast.

That and new cars all around!!!!

Yes he is. And its amazing that he can run that fast, his running motion is about as fluid as a Special Olympian, but man that dude can fly. Though its not so much his speed that impressed me as his balance. He’d get hit and spun around, and come out of it 5 yards downfield and in full stride again. THAT’s what was frustrating me the most.

I didn’t see any of the new cars while I was there, but the greenery around campus was impeccable. They must have a great landscaping crew!

Dan writes:
WHY THE HELL DO PEOPLE INSIST ON KICKING THE BALL TO GINN???

KICK IT THE F*** OUT OF BOUNDS!!!

SWEET BABY JESUS, FOLKS, IT AIN’T THAT F***ING HARD!!!

The best thing I could figure is that Michigan never realized that no matter how many times you contained him, he was just as big of a threat each time. Its just like flipping a coin. Just because it comes up heads five times in a row, it doesn’t mean you should put your mortgage payment down on it coming up heads the next time, too. The first punt, they went his way, and didn’t quite get out of bounds, but the generous hop and 25 yard roll pinned OSU to the 1. Of course, this led to the turning point of the game when Jim Tressel unveiled the wrinkle in his gameplan: That watching OSU’s offense doesn’t have to be a necessary evil to watch when you can’t find drying paint or old people banging to entertain you. Seriously, I think I realized this most when I started reading around online, and I think it was Tom that suggested to my brother that backing into the Rose Bowl couldn’t be a pleasing way to go. Can it really make an OSU fan happy that they lost four games this year, and struggled with Penn State, because their offense hinged on breaking one play a game and then smothering the other team with field goals when they had this 450 or whatever yard performance in them all along? About the Rose Bowl, if last year’s Rose Bowl, and this OSU game don’t put Michigan in the mood to score 180 points in Pasadena this year, I don’t know what will. I don’t know much about likely opponent Cal, but they don’t have only one loss for a reason, and a different U-M team better show up than was out there on Saturday.

Back to Ted Ginn, the next couple punts, Michigan let him get away a little, but still contained him. Why Adam Finley wasn’t trying to kick the ball off the press box from there on out, I don’t know.

Tom writes:
So… if there were going to be deeper questions if the Buckeye defense failed to show up for the game, what does it mean if Michigan’s entire team didn’t show up?

Of course the whole team didn’t show up, in college, the travel rosters are usually considerably smaller. God, I thought you’d know that by now. It mostly meant that while everyone else in Columbus was celebrating the win, I was finding out how many gallons of alcohol it would take me to forget the game ever happened. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that much.

Has Michigan’s coaching staff ever heard of adjustments? Why were they the last people on earth to (like djl) figure out that kicking to Ginn is a bad idea? And why, exactly, did the completely abandon the run after Hart gashed OSU for five yards a pop early?

They adjusted. They stopped running the ball, remember? Seriously, did I miss the page in the coaches handbook that said it was a good idea to completely abandon a decent-at-worst running game because you were down six points early in the third quarter?

Also, I didn’t hear from you after the game. I figured either you couldn’t get a cell signal (I sure couldn’t) or you were strangling Lloyd with the cord from his headset. Either way, good times.

I was busy changing into my Iowa gear, sorry. (Did you know that Iowa’s fight song is called “The Iowa Fight Song”? How novel.) I really did an awful job communicating with anyone I knew in town this weekend, which will happen when your car is left in a parking lot somewhere and you’re just along for the ride. But don’t you feel special enough that I thought of you while I was in line for the bathroom? Come on, don’t you?

Bottom line, between Michigan’s poor performance, and the Browns’ not really showing up at all either, I’ve got one hope left for the weekend, tomorrow night at the Glass Bowl in Toledo. Sing it with me now…

Ay Ziggy Zoomba Zoomba Zoomba…..