Remember "The Decision," how that one former Cavalier turned from hero to villian overnight? It wasn't because of his actual choice - a wussbag move, for sure, and one the icons of the game would never have made, but that was not what made him a pariah.
Rather, the reason his decision rankled so many was the tone-deaf manner in which he carried it out. People could not, and still cannot, possibly fathom why on Earth he or anyone in his camp thought it would be a good idea to go on national television and, in an all-me hourlong self-masturbation, so publicly and blatantly crap on his team and home state, without so much as an advance phone call from the man himself. The idea to do it that way was THAT dumb, THAT devoid of common sense, THAT ignorant of everyone (aside from the Heat) who truly cared. I remember thinking, after it was announced that The Decision would take place but before it actually did, "there is no way he would go on national TV and do that, no way." Then he did, and I was as stunned, disgusted, and sad as anyone else.
So it is that the recent rumors regarding the Ohio State-Michigan game are giving me this sense of foreboding - you know, that sort of sick feeling you get in your stomach when you can just see the momentum building towards an awful decision being made.
Certain very important individuals have made comments lately implying the very real possibility that (1) the teams will be placed into different divisions, and (2) The Game will be moved from its customary spot at the end of the regular season. The reason, according to some of these people: those two teams should be playing for a right to go to the Rose Bowl, not a divisional crown, and we want to eliminate the chance that they would play in back-to-back weeks (i.e., the last regular season game, and then a week later in the conference championship game).
When you take out emotion and look at it from a cold business perspective, of course this makes sense. The Game is the league's most valuable commodity. Putting your most valuable commodity on display twice could bring in more dollars, particularly if it is showcased in a contest specifically manufactured to objectively decide who wins the conference. The Big Ten has made little secret the past few years that it is indeed a business, concerned with all the things - bottom lines, revenue, TV, etc. - that people in charge of businesses are paid to care about.
Letting the powers-that-be care about "business" first and foremost has been perfectly fine so long as it does not interfere overtly with those other things about which the "consumers" (us fans) care, like traditions, pageantry, rivalries. In short, the "emotional" and passion-based things that make college football what it is today. Make no mistake - those consumer concerns are positively what drive the financial concerns. Without the fan passion for traditions, pageantry, and rivalries, there is no longer even an opportunity to make the "business" decisions. The reason we accept those business decisions, though, is because they do no or little damage to that which we as fans actually care about.
Unfortunately, the people in charge sometimes forget this and proceed to make allegedly financially-driven decisions anyway. Actually, "forget" is not the right word. A more skeptical view would be that they know damn well the consequences, but they are banking on the fact that our passion for being fans will cause us to simply accept the financially-driven decision anyway, because, what's the alternative? It isn't as though we will stop watching, stop cheering, stop going to games. What these things reveal more than anything else, perhaps, is our naivete as fans. We assume that because we are the entire reason these people even get to think about things like maximizing revenue, that they naturally will make decisions with this in mind, when, in truth, they instead exploit our passion.
This does not mean, however, that we cannot point out how stupid the decision is anyway. The reason The Game is so valuable to the league is because it is the last game of the year, because it has been for more than seven decades, because at that point in the season its consequences are so very often determinative of at least one participant's fate. And, most importantly, because it is played only once a year, in the cold weather in which the midwest feels the game should be played, in one of two ancient stadiums.
The Game is not The Game if it is played in some newfangled, modern, corporate-backed stadium. I can tell you from personal experience that the next closest thing to this - bowl games - do not in any way, shape, or form have the same feel as a normal Ohio State game. Bowl game crowds are filled with people who received sponsor tickets and, because they usually are an expensive proposition, a more "upper crust" type Ohio State crowd. Yes, the cheers are all the same, and all the traditions are packed up and shipped to the bowl stadium, but it isn't the same. It just isn't. And that is true for teams with whom the Buckeyes often have lesser tradition. It would be revolting if The Game were placed in similar circumstances.
You want to split into divisions and have a championship game to fill the coffers a bit more? Fine, go ahead. But do not in the process ruin that into which we put our hearts and souls, that towards which we point as the amazing culmination of the season, where most often the stakes could not be higher. I hate as much as anyone the stupid high-stepping that the Michigan band does, and that stupid "M" banner in the Big House, and that stupid Big House itself, but they all feel right to me. When I see them, either in person or on TV, it gives me a different kind of feeling, one of anticipation, one of nervousness, where Script Ohio takes on added meaning, where even in my living room I get the all-too-familiar Midwest feeling of seeing your breath in the late fall. I don't think I'll feel that same way if 4-0 Ohio State takes on 3-1 Michigan in October, where no stakes are in any way defined, where one can wear a t-shirt to "the game," where emotional energy needs to be conserved because, hey, we got Purdue next week.
So keep us in the same division, and let us play on that last regular season day. It might not be for the Rose Bowl or the conference crown, but The Game itself - us versus them - is what us fans care most about, above anything else. Don't ruin it.
Rather, the reason his decision rankled so many was the tone-deaf manner in which he carried it out. People could not, and still cannot, possibly fathom why on Earth he or anyone in his camp thought it would be a good idea to go on national television and, in an all-me hourlong self-masturbation, so publicly and blatantly crap on his team and home state, without so much as an advance phone call from the man himself. The idea to do it that way was THAT dumb, THAT devoid of common sense, THAT ignorant of everyone (aside from the Heat) who truly cared. I remember thinking, after it was announced that The Decision would take place but before it actually did, "there is no way he would go on national TV and do that, no way." Then he did, and I was as stunned, disgusted, and sad as anyone else.
So it is that the recent rumors regarding the Ohio State-Michigan game are giving me this sense of foreboding - you know, that sort of sick feeling you get in your stomach when you can just see the momentum building towards an awful decision being made.
Certain very important individuals have made comments lately implying the very real possibility that (1) the teams will be placed into different divisions, and (2) The Game will be moved from its customary spot at the end of the regular season. The reason, according to some of these people: those two teams should be playing for a right to go to the Rose Bowl, not a divisional crown, and we want to eliminate the chance that they would play in back-to-back weeks (i.e., the last regular season game, and then a week later in the conference championship game).
When you take out emotion and look at it from a cold business perspective, of course this makes sense. The Game is the league's most valuable commodity. Putting your most valuable commodity on display twice could bring in more dollars, particularly if it is showcased in a contest specifically manufactured to objectively decide who wins the conference. The Big Ten has made little secret the past few years that it is indeed a business, concerned with all the things - bottom lines, revenue, TV, etc. - that people in charge of businesses are paid to care about.
Letting the powers-that-be care about "business" first and foremost has been perfectly fine so long as it does not interfere overtly with those other things about which the "consumers" (us fans) care, like traditions, pageantry, rivalries. In short, the "emotional" and passion-based things that make college football what it is today. Make no mistake - those consumer concerns are positively what drive the financial concerns. Without the fan passion for traditions, pageantry, and rivalries, there is no longer even an opportunity to make the "business" decisions. The reason we accept those business decisions, though, is because they do no or little damage to that which we as fans actually care about.
Unfortunately, the people in charge sometimes forget this and proceed to make allegedly financially-driven decisions anyway. Actually, "forget" is not the right word. A more skeptical view would be that they know damn well the consequences, but they are banking on the fact that our passion for being fans will cause us to simply accept the financially-driven decision anyway, because, what's the alternative? It isn't as though we will stop watching, stop cheering, stop going to games. What these things reveal more than anything else, perhaps, is our naivete as fans. We assume that because we are the entire reason these people even get to think about things like maximizing revenue, that they naturally will make decisions with this in mind, when, in truth, they instead exploit our passion.
This does not mean, however, that we cannot point out how stupid the decision is anyway. The reason The Game is so valuable to the league is because it is the last game of the year, because it has been for more than seven decades, because at that point in the season its consequences are so very often determinative of at least one participant's fate. And, most importantly, because it is played only once a year, in the cold weather in which the midwest feels the game should be played, in one of two ancient stadiums.
The Game is not The Game if it is played in some newfangled, modern, corporate-backed stadium. I can tell you from personal experience that the next closest thing to this - bowl games - do not in any way, shape, or form have the same feel as a normal Ohio State game. Bowl game crowds are filled with people who received sponsor tickets and, because they usually are an expensive proposition, a more "upper crust" type Ohio State crowd. Yes, the cheers are all the same, and all the traditions are packed up and shipped to the bowl stadium, but it isn't the same. It just isn't. And that is true for teams with whom the Buckeyes often have lesser tradition. It would be revolting if The Game were placed in similar circumstances.
You want to split into divisions and have a championship game to fill the coffers a bit more? Fine, go ahead. But do not in the process ruin that into which we put our hearts and souls, that towards which we point as the amazing culmination of the season, where most often the stakes could not be higher. I hate as much as anyone the stupid high-stepping that the Michigan band does, and that stupid "M" banner in the Big House, and that stupid Big House itself, but they all feel right to me. When I see them, either in person or on TV, it gives me a different kind of feeling, one of anticipation, one of nervousness, where Script Ohio takes on added meaning, where even in my living room I get the all-too-familiar Midwest feeling of seeing your breath in the late fall. I don't think I'll feel that same way if 4-0 Ohio State takes on 3-1 Michigan in October, where no stakes are in any way defined, where one can wear a t-shirt to "the game," where emotional energy needs to be conserved because, hey, we got Purdue next week.
So keep us in the same division, and let us play on that last regular season day. It might not be for the Rose Bowl or the conference crown, but The Game itself - us versus them - is what us fans care most about, above anything else. Don't ruin it.
