Walking down Morton Hill last Friday afternoon, I had my existence as a sports fan halted at the goal line by a potent middle linebacker.
Before I swallowed my last french fry from Shively dining hall, I spotted not one, but two Ohio University football players. Of course, I recognized the brawny duo only because they were wearing their home hunter and white jerseys, large numbers encompassing my 160-pound frame.
I thought this to be a bit strange since I haven't seen many people wear their football jerseys outside since those god-awful high school pep rallies, but I proceeded anyway. Not long after, I was approached by one of the aforementioned gridiron heroes.
In a polite manner, the player showed me a stack of student football tickets for Saturday's contest at Peden Stadium. He asked me, along with every other book-toting student, if we would like to take any tickets for the game.
Having already picked mine up Monday at Baker Center, I graciously declined.
At that precise moment my sports world was thrown into a tizzy. Instantly I thought, What kind of ludicrous stunt is the athletic department trying to pull?!
Is another uneventful Saturday on campus not enough to pull the masses into
Peden? Is a Big Ten team visiting Athens for the first time in history not enough? Is the first home game while school is in session not enough to garner some student interest?
I'll bet Craig Krenzel sits on a park bench in Columbus urging people to visit the Horseshoe on Saturday afternoons. Casey Clausen probably even sings "Rocky Top" at the top of his lungs so the students in Knoxville will give the Vols some love.
But then it came to me. Ohio University is not Ohio State, or Tennessee or even Minnesota; and that is OK. Maybe there is some truth to the whole mid-major title.
As an admitted ESPN junkie, I think we get too caught up in bowl rankings and Heisman races and at-large bids to remember what college athletics is all about.
Forget the dollars and cents, never mind television packages and endorsement deals; Ohio students get the opportunity to watch a group of young men play football almost exclusively because they love to do it.
What does it matter if some people come to see the band? What does it matter if Peden is one of the smaller Division I-A venues in the nation? And what does it matter if the team uses players to encourage students to come to the games on Saturday afternoons? In my humble estimation, it doesn't.
So while ESPN College Gameday analyst Lee Corso won't be putting on a Bobcat mascot head in Athens any time soon, there's no need to feel short changed; there is nothing wrong with being a small-time program in a small-time town.
Breaking a bit of a routine, I'm not going to pick up my ticket next Monday at Baker Center for the Sept. 27 home game against Western Michigan. Me, I'll be counting on two Ohio football players to give me my ticket.
Same time, same place, guys. I'll be the one with the mouth full of curly fries.
-- Lasita is a sophomore journalism major. You can e-mail him your comments at timothy.j.lasita@ohiou.edu
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T.J. Lasita
