Craig’s Eggz Returns: Beware my friends, he went to the Rose Bowl

Nothing wrong with this photo. The Eggman was just really bent.

Long time readers of this blog will remember tEgg Man. It’s been a while since we’ve heard from our blogger at large but word has it he made it to the Rose Bowl. He’s back, the chemicals have worn off and he’s ready to report. Leave it to tEgg Man to prick his finger on the stem of the Rose.

Sitting in the North end of the Rose Bowl’s Row 66, in the nosebleed section under the Jumbotron, I was hit with a relentless barrage of text messages from Buckeye fans abroad. “Terrell throws like a girl” which was naturally from an SEC fan. “TP sucks,” came from a guy they that wanted Justin Zwick over Troy Smith in 2008 before Smith won 10 games in a row and a Heisman — before succumbing to the “Banquet Circuit” to oblivion at the hands of Myer’s and Tim Tebow’s underdogs. Praise the Lord for armchair quarterbacks.

If you attended the Rose Bowl, you’d find it hard to imagine that the game went “Exactly As Scripted” per the LA Times.  Even the Buckeye-hating Brent Musburger kowtowed to Tressell’s coaching the Scarlet and Gray. As expected, the Columbus Dispatch sportswriters fell in line.

I asked our 17-year-old son, “Am I missing something?” He responded as I read the paper aloud, “What game were they at?” I can’t get my head around why TP is viewed as the second coming of Vince Young — who by the way, really throws like a girl. We watched Terrell get sacked four times for 20 yards in losses and throw an interception.

The 17-yard fling to Posey for a touchdown was sweet as was tight end Jake Ballard’s catch between two defensive backs and Dane Sanzenbacher for a jump ball and critical first down. Exactly a scripted? Please. Then, I guess, the Buckeyes scripted the Oregon personal foul that gave OSU a first down and an offside by Oregon for another third-down conversion crossing midfield — not to mention Oregon’s missed field goal in the third quarter to bring them within one possession of taking the lead. Stupid call Kelly.

To anyone that attended the game, you’d know it was a gut wrenching experience and eerily closer than the writers say. You have to admit the OSU kick coverage was at best a feeble sieve, allowing more than 200 yards off Oregon’s freshman Barger’s kick returns. Very cool and well executed reverse on a kickoff return. Brilliant! The Ducks had flash to the very end.

Their die-hard fans were great too. If it wasn’t for LeGarrett “Rock ‘em Sock ‘em” Blount’s fumble on the 10 yard line into the end zone, the game may have had a different complexion altogether.

Regardless, To the Victors Belong the Spoils. And, whoever wins writes the history books.

As a Buckeye fan, I acknowledge that we’re all spoiled, want, expect, desire, demand to win — despite our pensive and cynical nature from 12 years of Cooper and being thrashed twice by the SEC for the BCS titles. Not to mention choking against Vince Young’s Texas and not sneaking the ball on the one foot line three times (passing 3 times and out) against Surfer Boy Barkley’s University of Spoiled Children (USC) and choking to Purdue.

Yes, we’re full of Buckeye dread… A psychologist would have a field day with our narcissistic neurosis. We think therefore, we is… If the buckeyes lose, we collectively lose, and if they win, we’re in turn collectively winners. The Ducks’ fans understand that. They drove home 12 hours over the snow-covered mountains as losers hoping for a better year to come. Although both teams’ players are kids, we live through their eyes. Sometimes we just can’t see the forest through the trees.

The most telltale part of the Rose Bowl was The Battle of the Bands. The Best Damned Band In The Land (TBDBITL) was awesome, while the Duck band looked like a rabble — a bunch of stoned security guards in vinyl jackets and their safety Da-Glo yellow as if handed instruments at the last minute because the real Oregon band was stranded in the Sierra Madre’s in the snow with a flat tire.  Their band’s Half Time theme was “Back to the Future.” How sophomoric — like they’d ever be back in the next decade at USC’s home field. They better get some batteries for their Way Back Machine…

After the best tradition in NCAA football, Script Ohio, left the field, the rabble of Oregon band members ran out to the field (instead of marching) as if a rugby scrum. Nice uniforms — baseball caps and a flag drill team? Guys, even a high school band can create a formation and march in sync, and in a straight line. It was abysmal and an embarrassment to their university. For God’s sake, for the taxpayers of Oregon, you guys better not be on full ride scholarship or I’m going to give my kids kazoo lessons, ship him out, and replace your worthless asses. Feel my disgust. It’s as liberating as paying bills or taxes. But, it shouldn’t be in front of a national audience at the Granddaddy of Them All.

Enough — you get it.

You have to love the Buckeye fans’ ongoing, incessant O-H-I-O. mantra that could be heard on the flight to the game, at the Rose Parade, on the walk down Peco Valley to the stadium, at the tailgate, booming throughout the stadium, at the hotel, and on the flight home. It got so bad that it was almost embarrassing. Other schools might question Ohio State’s academic standing like that’s all we can spell — old and young alike screaming as if we just got off a drinking binge. Could be worse. It would be tough to spell MIS ISS I PPI. Good luck with that.

The put-off before, during and after the game were the holy rollers with their signs and bull horns proselytizing us football fans, “You know more about a Buckeye than you know about the Lord Jesus Christ… What the heck is a Buckeye anyway?”

Really — the audacity.

These are probably the same banner-carrying killjoys at the Rose Parade who followed us on our 5-mile pilgrimage to the Rose Bowl. At one point after the game a silver Hummer bedecked with its red white and black Buckeye helmet piping and Ohio license plate (yes, those numbnuts actually drove all the way out for the game) almost mowed them down.

Okay, that’s not the spirit, nor Christian. Let’s be rational. You might say the Buckeye nation is a sports-based cult built on tradition and fellowship. Let’s leave it at that. For your information a Buckeye is a poisonous nut we worship mostly during football season. If you eat it, then you die, then visit TLJC. But in the meantime, I have another five hours to fly and eat my airline ration, connect in Charlotte, fly another one and half hours, drive home, put the kids to bed for school and go to work in the morning so I can pay for this darned trip.

The best thing about the Buckeye fans is that we are worth our “buck.” Love us or hate us, we’ll spend our last stinking dollar, fly or drive to California, buy $5 hot dogs, $9 beers, $15 caps, $20 t-shirts, pay $500 for overpriced tickets — you name it. The massive Buckeye nation lives through the Bucks eyes like we earned it — so we can do whatever we want. Thank you for making us winners. Go Bucks! Oh, and Quack…