Hello there, Tumblr.

I haven’t consistently written in months, partially due to a lack of passion, and the longer I’ve done this, the less I’ve tried to fight these little…lags, if you will. Last night was too special to not attempt to hammer something out, though.

For those who don’t know, Ohio State played Wisconsin last night, in a very anticipated match-up (in Columbus, at least). Wisconsin beat us in both football and basketball last year when we were ranked #1 in the country. Let’s just say those who have called themselves Buckeyes were hungry for a little payback. 

I went down to the game early, bought myself a ticket, found my seat, and rested my legs for what I was hoping to be a lively evening. It gave me time to take in the scene and commit to memory. Big time night games are one of the real treasures of going to a school with a significant football program.

I found myself auditing my demeanor during the game. I felt as though I had become more reserved during sporting events the longer I have been in school. That analysis went out the window in the 4th quarter.

One of the things that made the last 5 minutes so great was that the first 55 never hit a lull. There was never a 10 minute period with a series of 4-and-outs. The crowd was engaged the entire game, and without listing the various sporting events I’ve been fortunate enough to attend, it was one of the more impressive games in terms of crowd volume.

Our QB scored on a breakaway run with 4.5 minutes to put us up by 12. We failed on the 2pt, which proved to be consequential. They come back, score twice in 3 minutes, putting us down 3 with 1:18 to go. At this point, I was avoiding letting depression take over. We had a great return on the kickoff. A couple short plays to make a field goal a feasible goal, and then….that one play that live in Buckeye lore. I watch our freshman quarterback, Braxton Miller, roll to his right, and as he is about to run out of bounds, and he chucks the ball up. I caught the trajectory of the ball, shot my eyes down-field and I see the open receiver eyeing the ball in the end zone. The ball was lobbed just high enough for me to process the next few moments, as the blood started rushing to my head, and as I was unable to decide whether my skin was tingling from the increasingly hawkish elements or the adrenaline about to pulse through my veins. He caught the ball; the stadium erupts like few things you’ll ever hear in your life, as I’m flying through the air, making a very modest effort to take in everything around me. 

We still had to make a short defensive stand to pull out the game, and as we soon found out, the marshalls by the goal posts would not impede our efforts to rush the field. I did think about whether or not I should do it. I decided on I’d rather admit fault in our choice, than live the regret of not rushing the field. I got down to the final barrier between the stands and the field, climbed over that barrier, hopped down about 8 feet to the ground (I almost landed on Bucky, the Wisconsin mascot, which would have been AWESOME), turned around, and sprinted as though there was someone wielding a gun behind me.

It really is a tremendous feeling to rush the field. The act of rushing the field has come under some scrutiny in recent years, as it has become more prevalent. Rick Reilly wrote his guidelines for it, and they certainly gained traction within the world of sports mavens. I was a big proponent of his rules initially. I’ve debated them since. I would very rarely advocate for a football powerhouse like Ohio State rushing the field, but after the year we’ve had, and the two heartbreaking losses we took against that team in the last year, and the way that game ended, I believe we came out on the right side of history.

And, after partaking in that glorious experience, there is one ironclad guideline that Mr. Reilly missed: Every college student should have the opportunity to rush the field at least once in their collegiate career.