Alexandra477

5 Things I Didn't Know About Ohio State Football.

 

When I moved to Columbus 22 years ago, I learned something key: In the land of Ohio State football, one either bleeds scarlet and gray or goes home. I found out about this thing called “tailgating,” where people set up compact parking lot parties and eat toothpicked meatballs out of contraptions called “crock pots.” I began wearing necklaces fashioned out of poisonous nuts, and obediently matched every bellowed “O-H!” with an equally boisterous “I-O!” But after attending the season opening Buckeye game against Miami University (Ohio) on Saturday, I learned that some of OSU football’s most memorable moments happen between plays.

1. Urban Meyer is a big deal. Like, bigger than Santa Claus, President Obama, and Lady Gaga combined. I had a hunch this was the case, but when our new coach jogged onto the field for the first time, I thought all 105,039 of us at Ohio Stadium had enough emotional voltage to power Cedar Point for a year. 

2. The raising and lowering of the American flag, heroically performed by Ohio military personnel, is an unbelievably profound and respectful ceremonial ritual. This was the first time I got to see it up close, and I’ll never forget it.

3. Touchdown push-ups, also executed by local members of the U.S. Military, are crazy impressive. I can’t even do one push-up, so the 252 they did after we beat the Red Hawks 56-10 blew my freaking mind.

4. The Ohio State Marching Band, a.k.a. The Best Damn Band In The Land, plays opponents’ fight songs in their honor. At the end of the game, after the crowd left and a few stragglers were hanging on, TBDBITL marched in formation at the middle of the field and played Miami’s fight song in front of the visiting band. I may have fought back a tear.

5. After home games, spectators can stand by the southeast gates of the stadium to catch a glimpse of star players exiting the building. When I got wind of this, I made the hubs wait with me for an hour so I could see Braxton Miller in person for 8.4 seconds. We also saw more armed servicemen and women, who were chatting with and posing for photographs alongside top players. OSU Athletics has a program that helps military personnel meet members of the team. We talked to one of them who is being deployed this week and was thrilled to have that experience.

Although Ohio State fans are sometimes nuts¹, what happens just off the field can underlie the purest meaning of sportsmanship.

1 Yup. Went there.

   

Archie Griffin at The Columbus Foundation.

Some people say football is like war. Players wear armor, attack their opponents, and execute tireless strategies in the quest to seize territory. But for former Ohio State University running back and college football’s only two-time Heisman Trophy winner Archie Griffin, football is about community. The Columbus Foundation hosted an intimate gathering with the football legend this afternoon in honor of his nine years of service on its Governing Committee. Seated at the front of Davis Hall next to Columbus Foundation president and CEO Doug Kridler, Griffin spoke humbly and candidly about his experience growing up in Columbus and the importance of mentoring our youth.

“I had a ball growing up in Columbus,” said Griffin. One of eight children, he began playing football at Blackburn Park at the age of nine. His father worked three jobs and took vacation time to watch his kids’ sporting events. Griffin still reminisces about the sacrifices his dad made to provide for his children, and how he constantly praised the value of getting a college education. “I think about that man every day,” he said. Teachers also motivated Griffin to work hard and act with integrity. “Mrs. Scott at Clearbrook Middle School spent a lot of time with me and made a huge difference in my life,” he said. “I’ll never forget how positive she was.” Another of Griffin’s junior high teachers, Mr. Gill, taught him the 3 D’s: Desire, Dedication, and Determination. It stuck with him. “I talk about the 3 D’s just about everywhere I go,” Griffin said. “If you apply them to something in your life, what you’re giving is a total commitment. You can’t ask anyone to give more than that.”

Another of Griffin’s biggest influences is no surprise. “Woody Hayes always talked about paying it forward,” he said. “He lived it.” Every Thursday night, Coach Hayes drove Griffin and his teammates to Children’s Hospital in his El Camino. No one knew that Hayes did this. Hospital staff members left a designated door unlocked so Hayes and his team could spend time with patients. “That really left a lasting impression on me about what our coach stood for,” Griffin said. “He knew we were impacting the lives of young people and wanted us to be part of the community.” Hayes also ensured that his players studied. “He used to ask us how we were doing in our classes, and you better have had a good answer, because he already knew,” Griffin laughed.

Since 2004, Griffin has served as President/CEO of OSU’s Alumni Association. He’s also senior vice president of alumni relations. An internationally recognized figure and former NFL football player, he could pretty much live wherever he wants. And that’s Columbus. “I love Central Ohio,” he said. “It has been great to me.” Griffin felt safe walking or hitchhiking to eastside area sports fields when he was a youngster, but acknowledged that times have changed and children now need as much guidance and inspiration as possible. “The youth are our future of this community,” he said. “We need to give them opportunities so they can be successful.” He thinks that organized sports programs offer constructive, meaningful outlets for kids because they teach “the will to win, how to work together as a team, and how to get back up when you’re knocked down.” As the daughter and granddaughter of professional tennis players, and as someone who played sports throughout childhood, I wholeheartedly agree. Griffin was asked several years ago how he became a superstar running back at 5’8” and 180 pounds, and he answered simply, “I had heart.” All it takes for any of us to achieve our goals is the drive to try to attain them — and the encouragement of people like Griffin to help us along the way.

   

Columbus Clippers at Huntington Park.

What could be more beautiful, or more American, than walking to a baseball game? Last night was my first visit to Huntington Park, home of the Columbus Clippers minor league baseball team. While I don’t know much about pitchouts or pickoffs, it was hard to resist the friendly charisma of this year-old 10,000-person-capacity ballpark. It’s warm, cleanly constructed, and exciting from all angles. Just like the city in which it resides, it’s wholeheartedly accessible.

The hot dogs were juicy, the kids were wide-eyed, and the heckling was plentiful. Plus for a mere six dollars, you can buy a general admission ticket and watch all of the action from the outfield berm, sports bars, or various picnic tables lining the park. Nothing beats that snappity crack of the bat echoing out amongst the stands into the eardrums of every spectator. Because that is the sound of summer.

        

My Super Bowl Ad.

For the second time in history, the price of a 30-second Super Bowl spot has decreased. For the low, low price of $2.5 million, you too could have your own half-minute of countrywide fame. Naturally this got me to thinking what I would do with that gilded time allotment on February 7.

FADE IN:  

INT. A WOOD-PANELED ROOM – NIGHT  

A distinguished man sits in a cushy leather chair, reading. A roaring fire emanates from a gargantuan fireplace casting a warm glow on the wall of books behind him. The man is Will Ferrell and he is portraying James Lipton.

PHONY JAMES LIPTON

WHY, HELLO. I DIDN'T SEE YOU THERE.

Phony Lipton sets down his book (something light and breezy, like The Merchant of Venice) and gazes directly into camera.

PHONY JAMES LIPTON

I LIKE TO RELAX AND UNWIND.

  He sips from his Smithsonian coffee mug and saunters to the window.                      

PHONY JAMES LIPTON

AND WITH ALEXANDRA477, I CAN DO THAT WHENEVER I SEE FIT. UNLESS I'M STARRING IN AN IMPORTANT MOVING PICTURE, OF COURSE.

Phony Lipton places his coffee mug on table fashioned from a stuffed boar’s head.

PHONY JAMES LIPTON

WITH ALEXANDRA477, I DON’T HAVE TO FRET OVER MY TASKS, BECAUSE

SHE MANAGES THEM FOR ME. WHY, IT’S AS EASY AS RUBBING THE BELLY OF A BABY SQUIRREL AT THREE IN THE MORNING.

He lights a candle and strokes his beard.  

PHONY JAMES LIPTON

WHEN I NEED A NOTE SCRIBED TO A YOUNG LASSIES DECLARING MY BAWDY INTENTIONS TO HALF-HEARTEDLY COURT HER, ALEXANDRA477 RISES TO THE OCCASION.

He lets out a throaty groan as he lies down on a large bear skin rug.

PHONY JAMES LIPTON

WHEN THE EDITOR OF MANLY QUAIL HUNTERS MAGAZINE BESEECHES ME FOR A ROUSING ANECDOTE ABOUT GALOSHING BLINDFOLDED THROUGH A FOWL-RIDDLED FOREST, I KNOW ALEXANDRA477 WILL PEN IT WITH A DEFT HAND.

Phony Lipton reaches into the mouth of the rug and retrieves a cocktail shaker, tumbler, and bottle of liquor.

PHONY JAMES LIPTON

AND YES, EVERY TIME I IMBIBE ONE TOO MANY BUTTERSCOTCH SCHNAPPS AND PUBLICLY CALL SOMEONE OF GREAT IMPORT A "SISSYWILLOW," ALEXANDRA477 QUELLS THE EVIL FIRES OF DRAGON-FACED GOSSIP.

He hoists his cocktail in the air, toasting.

PHONY JAMES LIPTON

DELIGHTFUL. SIMPLY DELIGHTFUL.    

   

 

 

My First Trip to the U.S. Open.

I have watched the U.S. Open tennis tournament on TV for most of my life. As the daughter and granddaughter of professional tennis players, that’s sort of what you do. But on Sunday night for the first time I got to witness the event in person.

For me the U.S. Open is the most exciting and energetic Grand Slam tournament because it’s held in New York and players can eschew stuffy all-whites for colored headbands and mini dresses. It’s elite tennis with an American twist, which means extra glitz, celebrities, and ruthless hollering.

When we exited the subway stop at Shea Stadium and headed toward the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center, my breathing shortened and my eyes watered. After growing up around tennis, attending several tennis camps, and practicing my buns off just to make the high school team, it hit me. This is the real deal. I was not, however, expecting to see a 145-mile-an-hour serve. One hundred and forty-five miles an hour. Thanks to Taylor Dent I saw two of them. He lost to the number-two ranked player Andy Murray but if we learn how to harness his power we wouldn’t need wind farms.

It was one of those evenings that reminds you of the glory of a worldwide sport such as this. With tennis, there are no wimps. There’s no one to hide behind. It’s thrilling, it’s terrifying, and at times — it’s pure magic.

   

The John Elway Dance.

This morning after fixing a computer glitch I impulsively expressed my elation by doing the John Elway dance in the living room. I’ve been busting that move since I was a kid living in Denver. My Dad and I used to watch the Broncos play at Mile High Stadium and I lived for those moments when Elway scored a touchdown and broke into the most wildly entertaining shimmy imaginable. In order to perform the Elway Dance you need to crouch slightly, throw two number ones in the air, and wag your knees together. It’s fun to do and hilarious to behold. If executed with enough aplomb in front of strangers you’re bound to get at least one guffaw and an “I haven’t seen anyone do that in years!” I find it to be a nice touch immediately following a 27-point word in Scrabble or beating a know-it-all on a trivia question. To this day when I become jubilant about something my instinct is to drop everything and do the Dance. I’ve learned to control it about 80% of the time.

Crying On The Streets.

I’ve been running for more than 20 years. It’s sort of a tricky thing. My mother was a professional athlete who exercised a lot during my childhood so her sense of discipline was ingrained in me. I started running in races during Field Days at school and routinely beat the boys, sparking a lifelong girls-can-do-anything attitude. When I reached high school I ran seven days a week and became one of those neurotic runners who panicked every time I had to miss a day. I loved running but felt like a prisoner to it. I had to stop so I could reclaim the best parts of it without becoming totally obsessed. I hung up my shoes for a while and came back when I knew I’d enjoy it and not overdo it.

These days I’m more of a jogger. I do my best thinking and daydreaming when I lace up and plod along. I listen to classic rock, feel the fresh air hit my face, and ponder work and love and life. Nothing compares to my outdoor therapist.