With neither a ticket nor a confirmed place to stay, four companions and I piled into my ’94 Sable last Friday for a trip to Ann Arbor.
After a brief stop in Saline, Mich. to mingle with the K-Meister and Sherry, our group hit up a local drinkery at about 11:30 p.m.
Finding that most students at Michigan could care less about football, we used this opportunity to be loud, drunken, scarlet-clad buffoons; much to the chagrin of the necktie-wearing Gestapo descendants (a.k.a. “bouncers”) that hovered over us like stink on John Navarre.
We spent the remainder of that evening running around the streets of Ann Arbor singing the fight song and hollering at Michigan folk.
The 7:30 a.m. wake-up call came pretty early Saturday morning, but it was our mission to show that town how we do things in the Buckeye Nation. After a morning of enduring such original jeers as “Ohio State sucks!” and “F— the Buckeyes,” we decided to head to Michigan Stadium to attempt a ticket purchase.
I go to Ohio State. If there is anybody who knows about bad student behavior at football games, it’s an OSU student. What happened next was more appalling than anything I’ve seen on Lane or 13th avenues in the last five years.
On State Street, Michigan students poured into the road and accosted any OSU fan that passed. One of my cohorts had his hat stolen and the moron who took it threatened to set it on fire, and said my friend would get it back if he “fights me for it.” One jackass’ violent behavior earned himself a chokehold from another member of my party. Hundreds of students were executing an organized barrage of eggs and bottles at anything that came by – be it OSU fans or even Michigan vehicles (which I still don’t quite understand).
The same behavior at OSU gets you a boot from Bill Hall and a trip to the courthouse. Sporadic violence is nothing new with the OSU/Michigan game. But I have never seen such anarchy on a college campus.
Nowhere on this student row were any police seen. The only two officers we saw all day were protecting and serving by shouting down OSU fans with a megaphone as they tried to cross the street – well done.
We tend to criticize the actions of Columbus’ finest on game days here, but I would’ve given anything to see Grandma Holbrook and the Fun Police thump a few heads up there.
After literally crossing to the wrong side of the tracks to get to the stadium, we realized the ticket search was futile.
I found myself back in the same bar from night before. The place was packed with OSU fans that had also made the trip just to watch the game in Ann Arbor. After the tragic defeat, one thing ran through my mind: only 363 days until the Michigan game.
The long ride home Saturday night was jovial. We spent most of the time bashing the state of Michigan. The best idea was placing a series of explosive charges around the whole state to scuttle it under the Great Lakes, thereby paving the way for a booze cruise from Cleveland to Windsor.
Upon arriving home, I realized that two days of wearing the same clothes, and having simply been in Ann Arbor, covered me in a foul stench.
Watching the water spiral down the shower drain, a sense of euphoric calm came over me. This was the greatest weekend of my life. Sure, had we won it would have been greater. But in the end, it’s just a game.
What really mattered was that I got to experience the good times, emotion, anger, joy and eventual pity with my friends. No victory would have been worth losing that.
Erik Johns is a senior in journalism. He can be reached for comment at [email protected].
