In my very first article on Bleacher Report I wrote about some of my game day superstitions. I go through these every game day for fear that if I don’t, my team (Ohio State) will lose. Not only will they lose, but also they will lose because of my stupidity. Based on the comments I received, I am not the only one who goes through a game day checklist.
This college football season started out just like the past several. I made sure to get my Block O flag up on time every morning, wore the right game day gear, and drank the right beverages. I even got the bobble heads lined up in order and nodding before kickoff.
Then a strange thing happened. I eased up a bit on my superstitions. The flag didn’t get raised quite so early. I relegated my scarlet and gray striped boxer briefs to the trash. And guess what? The Buckeyes won anyway.
Could it be that maybe, just maybe, all my ritual behaviors did not have an effect on the outcomes of the games? How could that be? Doesn’t make any sense. Sure, I had been in Columbus for the Ohio game and they won. I didn’t go to the Shoe as I didn’t want to push my luck that far, but I was in Columbus and they did win the game.
September 13th. It might as well have been Friday the 13. In preparation for the big USC match up in LA I did everything right. I even stepped up my game and carried my buckeye in my pocket for days, wore my red OSU rubber bracelet. I even considered opening up that box of Buckeye Heroes cereal with AJ Hawk on it and chowing down on the sugary, chemical laced morsels.
Result: It looked like a combination of the last two national championship games combined. Complete and utter defeat.
Oddly I wasn’t dejected. In fact a sense of calm came over me. The pressure to do everything right faded away as quickly as OSU’s national championship hopes for the year.
The next Saturday OSU played the other men of Troy. I got up, fed the dogs and cats, made some coffee, and got online to read bleacher report. I almost forgot to get up the flag. I ran errands instead of watching dreamy Kirk for two hours. And lo and behold, the Buckeyes won.
The next week they did it again against their first Big Ten opponent Minnesota. They did it with little or no help from me.
Then came the biggest conference game of the year according to the experts. The Buckeyes were heading into Camp Randall Stadium, at night, to play a seriously pissed off Badger team that had just laid an egg in the Big House. They would need all the help I could offer.
I didn’t get the flag up until almost noon. I didn’t get my OSU shirt on until after running some morning errands. God only knows what pair of underwear or socks I had on. No wristband. No buckeye in my pocket. Crazy. Reckless.
After plunking down $129 for ESPN GamePlan to get the game we settled in to watch. I offered my wife a beer and she asked me which kind she should be drinking. I replied it didn’t matter. What, it didn’t matter?
You know what… it didn’t matter. I sat relatively calmly watching Pryor turn into a man right before my eyes on that final drive. No Buckeye crushed in my palm—they were doing it all on their own.
I feel free of the bonds that have enslaved me every game day. I can do what I want, when I want and just enjoy the games. Tressel and the boys are on their own to win with no help or hindrance from me.
Of course, should they get in a jam I still have fast access to all my superstitions. You never know.
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