Note: The following column was submitted to The Lantern by the Michigan student newspaper to carry on a tradition of running together opinion pieces from both papers.
Columbus smells like piss.
And I don’t mean it smells like some of its honorable residents decided to relieve themselves one too many times behind a secluded pine tree or in an abandoned alley. I’m saying that upon entering Columbus, you are immediately hit with such a strong stench of piss that it’s best described as an aura, hanging over the city like the dark, gray clouds that give it its depressing, hopeless charm. The stink is so strong it seems possible that those clouds, when let loose, release not rainwater but that foul, acid-yellow expulsion — God’s very own personal urinal.
Unfortunately, the intense, almost attacking smell that hits you at the city limits is not enough to base a column on. Still more unfortunate is the fact that the Buckeyes have beaten the Wolverines in “The Game” for six straight seasons, leaving little on-field inspiration to draw upon for material.
But in an extremely lucky twist of fate, I have fallen into the possession of something that couldn’t be more timely or essential: a series of entries from Ohio State quarterback Terrelle Pryor’s personal diary. Without further ado, the inspired writings of Mr. Pryor:
Jan. 25, 2009
WTF Diary? Just lost the Fiesta Bowl against Texas. It was the third straight loss for us in a bowl game! Why can’t we win when it counts???
Nov. 2, 2009
I saw on the news today everyone hating on Mike Vick just for killing a few dogs. WTF is everyone making such a big deal out of it? Don’t they know everyone murders?
Nov. 21, 2010
There are so many haters out there! I’m gonna go get some food — gotta find 10 pairs of socks in order to fit into my own shoes.
Man I was watching College GameDay today and saw Kirk Herbstreit talking shit. He a fake Buckeye. Wait, that’s too good not to tweet.
Alas, that’s all I have. Well, it’s all I could make out — the rest was a jumbled mix of poorly drawn pictures of his house labeled “homework” and simple algebra written in crayon. But I think what we have, though meager, still gives us a glimpse into the amazing mind of Ohio State’s starting quarterback.
The piercing scent of urine that seeps into clothing and pores so you can’t get the smell out for a week after leaving that depressing troth of a city? That aura of human waste that hangs over the center of Ohio like an atmosphere? It’s merely a physical manifestation of the attitude of Columbus. The city’s citizens, and indeed OSU’s students most of all, wallow in this hopeless mediocrity, which is made all the more saddening by their lack of understanding of it. They exist in a sort of bliss, willfully ignorant of the futility of their attempts at being “better” than Michigan actually are. Yes, the OSU football team has dominated Michigan’s for six years. But to compare the University of Michigan to OSU is to compare a filet mignon to a steaming pile of human feces.
The sad part? They still try. But when you are so steeped in a tradition that demands willful ignorance, medieval values and sub-par results, how can you expect to compete with a school that consistently churns out the leaders and best? Even Pryor, who by most measures has been a very good quarterback, seems unable to fit into his own shoes — Buckeyes just aren’t used to exceedingly high expectations.
One of the most applicable quotes I could find on the existence of OSU students comes from Bill Watterson, an Ohio native who understands the plight of OSU better than anyone and the author of the timeless comic strip “Calvin and Hobbes.” In one comic, Calvin explains what he believes to be the existence of girls by comparing them to insects. In my paraphrasing, I’m replacing “girls” with “OSU students.” I imagine bugs and OSU have a dim perception that nature played a cruel trick on them, but they lack the intelligence to really comprehend the magnitude of it.
So Michigan fans, hate OSU all you want, just remember how sad and pitiful the “institution’s” existence really is. And for all the students attending this poor excuse for a university, don’t hate them — feel sorry for them. They just don’t know any better.