By David Shuster
Scattered across the United States, there are a handful of institutions that stand as monuments to human aspiration – proud citadels where learning, dignity, and achievement still mean something. And then, approximately 180 miles south of Ann Arbor, Michigan there is The Ohio State University.
But let’s begin with the sublime.
The University of Michigan is not merely a university; it is an edifice of civilization. Its laboratories hum with discovery, its classrooms glow with intellect, and its football program possesses more victories than any other team to ever strap on a helmet in the storied history of college football. This is not happenstance. It is the natural consequence of excellence pursued with intelligence and dedication.
On Saturdays, Michigan Stadium— the largest in the entire United States, becomes a cathedral of athletic splendor.
A hundred and ten thousand voices thunder “The Victors,” the march that John Phillips Sousa called the greatest college fight song ever written. It is a hymn not merely to touchdowns, but to excellence itself. The atmosphere, in maize and blue, is so magnificent, so triumphantly American, that lesser schools and fans often cover their ears out of sheer envy.
The University of Michigan shakes with history. It radiates purpose. It echoes gloriously of success.
No accounting of Michigan’s splendor is complete, however, without a glance, inevitably mocking, toward that perennial inferior irritant lumbering just south of the state line: the football team of The Ohio State University, an institution whose insistence on its definite article reveals more about its insecurity than its significance.
Its supporters swarm in scarlet like a colony of overcaffeinated ants, proclaiming the imminence of glory with a fervor usually reserved for lunatic cults
And what, pray tell, is a “Buckeye”? Nature answers with an honesty OSU fans rarely manage. It is a small, hairless nut—an emblem perfectly suited to a fan base whose most animated arguments often resemble the frantic babble of a squirrel guarding a meager winter stash.
Ohio State has its share of accomplishments, including a crude lack of self-awareness that never goes out of style in Columbus. However, to mention the two universities in the same breath is to commit an act of rhetorical malpractice. The University of Michigan sits comfortably among the world’s finest academies, a global beacon of scholarship and innovation. Ohio State—how to put this politely? -- does not. One might visit their campus seeking intellectual stimulation and leave with nothing more than the vague memory of a marching band formation.
In the end, the rivalry persists because it must: a drama of giants and pretenders, of scholars and strivers, of a Maize-and-Blue colossus forever pursued by its scarlet-clad aspirants. And every year, as sure as the autumn leaves fall over Ann Arbor, Michigan, renews its case for why excellence, when properly cultivated, needs no bluster. Michigan wins, Ohio State whines. Michigan achieves; Ohio State implodes. Michigan leads, Ohio State follows.
Long live the Wolverines. And may the Buckeyes continue, as ever, to crack under pressure.
