Israel News : Jerusalem Post Internet Edition
America as Buckeye Nation, By TOM ROSETOM ROSE
Jan. 5, 2003
For college football fans, America's most emotional sport has produced far more opinions than it has facts. In the 143-year history of the sport, the game has been played more than 800,000 times. Even attempting to get any of the tens of millions of Americans who matter-of-factly classify themselves its fanatical devotees to agree on much more than that was long ago abandoned.
After Friday night's Fiesta Bowl, there are at least two facts about college football which remain outside the realm of opinion. Fact number one is that the first college football game ever played took place on November 6, 1869, and Princeton beat Rutgers 6-4. Fact number two is that the best college football game ever played took place on January 3, 2003, and Ohio State beat Miami 31-24.
Hyperbole is the refuge of the uncertain. "Game of Games," "classic of classics," "showdowns of showdowns." Sheer blather now. Mt. Everest is the tallest mountain. The Nile is the longest river. In 1492 Columbus discovered America, and on the morning of January 4, 2003, America discovered Columbus.
College football has been played in all seasons. It has been played in all places. It has been played in colossal stadiums and dusty sports grounds. It has been played in every state, every city and every county in the United States. It has been played at all times of the day and night. But for all that, it has never been played like it was played on Friday, January 3, 2002, in Tempe, Arizona.
Statistically speaking, describing the 2003 national championship Fiesta Bowl as one in a million presumes it will only take another 70 years to produce another one quite like it. Only 70 more years to produce another national championship game between two undefeated titans?
Hardly.
Only 70 more years to produce another national championship game decided on the last play of the last possession of regulation? Nah. Only 70 more years to produce a national championship game decided on the last play of the last possession in regulation and then again on the last play of the last possession in overtime? It could well take that long. But does anyone really think it will take only 70 more years to produce a national championship game decided between two undefeated teams on the last play of the last possession of regulation, and then again by a decisivelast play of the last possession in a first overtime and then again by a decisive last play of the last possession in a second overtime?
No one in the vast expanse of Buckeye Nation dares to think the sport's now definitive "greatest ever game played" will at some point be relegated to "second-best game ever played." Anyone who has read this far knows enough about the game already not need the particulars from me. That it started in the middle of the night on Friday and was still being played when most people in these parts were already contemplating their Shabbat lunch late Saturday morning is the least of what made it memorable. Equally exhausted, the game ended with victor and vanquished undistinguishable. Miami's Ken Dorsey down on his knees and OSU defensive tackle Tim Anderson bent over attempting to offer consoling words before collapsing himself into a wail of tears. On the other end of the field Buckeye tailback Lydell Ross, cradled his head in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably. After playing in a record 120 plays on both sides of the ball, Buckeye Chris Gamble was flat on his back, motionless.
America has more than just a new national football champion. It has a new standard. What Walt Whitman is to American verse, Irving Berlin to American song, the Wright Brothers to American achievement, the 2003 Fiesta Bowl will always be to college football.
The conservative headline writers at The New York Times sports page wanted to be sure the classified the game in a way that wouldn't make them look foolish in a hundred years time. They played it sane and just called it "The Game for the Ages." The less historically minded Columbus Dispatch ran a one-word headline that was just as accurate and no more risky. It just said: "Perfect."
- The writer is Publisher and CEO of The Jerusalem Post
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Thought everyone might enjoy reading this article that appeared the day after the Fiesta Bowl on the front of the sports section of the Miami Herald by one of the Miami writers.
TEMPE, Ariz. - They made a stadium shake with sound and turned the baddest, bestest, loudest program in college football silent. Funny, but you take away that zero that had been in Miami's record for nearly three seasons and suddenly everything else feels as hollow as an O. The Ohio State Buckeyes proved many things in this Fiesta Bowl, that they belonged, they understood, they believed. More than anything, they proved they're the best.
Once they had beaten the Hurricanes 31-24 in double overtime, the Buckeyes danced and twirled and hugged, and they'll remain so high for days they won't need any airplane to return home. Afterward, UM tight end Kellen Winslow suggested that Ohio State didn't beat the Hurricanes as much as the Hurricanes beat the Hurricanes. True, Miami turned the ball over five times, but four of those were more the result of Buckeyes plays than Canes misplays. The most symbolic came in the third quarter when Ohio State tailback Maurice Clarett chased down UM's Sean Taylor after the safety had intercepted a pass. Clarett then wrestled the ball back, literally taking the very thing Miami wanted most. It was only right for this game to go into overtime. There was just too much emotion, too much everything to fit into the traditional -- but for one night -- confining four quarters.
Here's one way to know you're watching a good football game: There are two coin tosses. Here's another: There are three absolutely must-have, will-lose-without-it fourth-down conversions. Both teams faced such situations in overtime. The game also had two endings, the first coming when it appeared UM had won in the first overtime with a fourth-down stop that then was nullified by penalty. The Hurricanes even poured from their sideline as fireworks boomed.
For that instant, they were a relieved team. But it was fleeting, and soon Ohio State was pressing again, just like all night. After their band dramatically dotted two i's during pregame festivities, the Buckeyes promptly dotted Willis McGahee's two eyes and all of Ken Dorsey's ribs and Larry Coker's single perfect balloon, pin-poking the life out of his never-been-beaten record.Hurricane teams, especially ones this good and this undefeated, aren't generally busted in the mouth at the line of scrimmage. At least without busting a few smiles in return. But McGahee was so smothered early that he looked like he was trying to run in a phone booth, even a player of his strength is unable to overcome muscle that's delivered in mounds. At one point, he literally was averaging inches per carry. Dorsey was sacked twice on Miami's first drive. He normally isn't sacked twice in the same month. He was hit more on this Friday than he was in a season of Saturdays.
And it wasn't exactly like Ohio State exploited some newly uncovered Hurricanes sore spots. Senior center Brett Romberg, who won this team's only major postseason award, gave up one sack and senior tackle Sherko Haji-Rasouli, an All-Big Easter, allowed a hit that forced a Dorsey fumble. The Romberg breakdown was more than just notable. It also was historic, seeing how he hadn't permitted a sack in his college career. This, however, was a night when all sorts of Miami magic was left smeared like those streaks of Ohio State gray visible on so many Hurricane helmets.The Buckeyes even made the game's largest target invisible. Andre Johnson, all 6-3 and 212 pounds of future NFL millionaire, had three catches at the end of the first quarter. He still had three catches at the end of the fourth quarter.
These sorts of events in recent years haven't been good to Ohio State, a program that had been trying to un-John Cooper itself for a while. Always good, never great. Always there, never a step further. That had been the label, and it fit the Buckeyes like a noose. Until now. One night after Iowa thrust Big Ten football backward to the days of three yards and a cloud of rust, Ohio State grabbed the entire college game by the shoulders and shook it silly. The Hawkeyes left the city of Miami soiled. The Buckeyes left the team of Miami soiled.
Soiled, soured and without a title.
King Canes no more.
