All right men, don’t eat the salad. They’re trying to poison us.
— Woody Hayes
I peered through my fingers in utter disbelief. I blinked a few times. Even pinched myself. But no attempt to rouse my conscience could change the fact that the butt-whooping I had just witnessed was no mirage. The scoreboard remained the same:
62-39.
I spent the next few hours, days, months trying to make sense of it all. I couldn’t bring myself to re-watch it; I don’t have to. Each gut-wrenching big play, every time the camera panned to a smug-looking Urban Meyer will forever be burned into my hippocampus. A loss like that doesn’t fade.
In my attempts to reconcile the disaster that was not only the 2018 edition of The Game, but also has been Michigan vs. TTDS since, well, the year 2000, I’ve reached a conclusion. And it’s a conclusion, mind you, that’s set to anger Wolverines and Buckeyes alike. So make sure you’re sitting down before I drop this on you. Ready?
Michigan State, as of today, is a bigger football rival for Michigan than Ohio State.
Now, before I go any further, because I know I’ve likely already lost some people, I’d like to point out the following: I hate Ohio State with a passion. I hate the university, I hate Columbus, and I hate Urban Meyer, Jim Tressel, Woody Hayes, Kirk Herbstreit, and every player and coach that’s ever donned the scarlet and gray. I abhor their program and everything it stands for. I detest their stupid gold pants, and the buffoons with far too much time on their hands who attempt to X out every M on campus (and inevitably miss a few because, well, it is THE Ohio State, after all). I want them to lose every game they play. A lot of Michigan fans argue The Game has more meaning when both teams are highly ranked. Me? I couldn’t care less. If God told me right now I could plan out the Michigan-OSU matchup for this year, I’d tell Him to pit an 0-11 Buckeyes team against an undefeated Michigan, and let the Wolverines seal a winless season for Ryan Day & Co. Alas, the closest I’ve seen this program come to Divine Intervention was TTDS showing mercy and exhibiting conservative play-calling at the end of last year’s rout. Which brings me to my next point.
Not since the turn of the twentieth century have we seen this rivalry in such a decidedly lopsided state. I’ll hear arguments for the Jon Cooper years, but I will not accept them. Why? Let me learn ya something.
Throughout the stretch in the mid-80s into 2000 when Michigan went 12-3-1 against Ohio State, the average margin of victory in those 12 wins was about 7.5 points. Call it a touchdown. Not too shabby by any stretch, but certainly not indicative that Michigan was dominating the rivalry (take, for example, the fact that in that initial stretch of the rivalry, the Wolverines won 13 out of 15 times by a combined margin of 366-12). Now, it’s clear that Michigan found itself on the right side of 12 out of 16 games not because of sheer luck alone, but a look at the staggering figures in terms of more recent results proves my point. Ohio State, in its 16 wins over Michigan in the last 18 seasons, a figure already more impressive than when Michigan most recently controlled the rivalry, has won by an average margin of about 11 points. “That’s hardly a difference!” The more ardent wearers of the Maize and Blue that haven’t already closed this article might contend. What’s the big difference between 7 and 11? For one thing, another possession.
In Michigan’s 12 wins over Ohio State toward the end of the second millennium, they enjoyed double digit wins 6 times. Congratulations, you know math, that’s half of those games. And the Buckeyes have cruised to multiple-score wins 9 times out of 16 in this more recent stretch of dominance. Only slightly better? Consider this: the largest margin of victory the Wolverines relished during that stretch was 28, a figure they achieved twice, in 1991 and ’93. The other 4 double digit wins came by either 12 or 10. In Ohio State’s 9 double digit victories, they touted margins of 16, 23, 29, and 35. And last year, they put up more points than have ever been scored on a Michigan team dating back to a time when people could remember the Civil War. What I mean to say is, TTDS hasn’t just beaten Michigan, they’ve flat out embarrassed them. And what’s more, they’ve done it with a consistency most fans of this rivalry probably thought couldn’t be achieved.
Ah, November 2011. Osama Bin Laden had just been taken out 6 months earlier. Snapchat was only 2 months old. The iPhone 5 had yet to be released. And Michigan football beat Ohio State, a feat they’re still trying to accomplish again. For those of you keeping score at home (like we’re not reminded by Twitter trolls every time we brave the comments of a Jim Harbaugh tweet), that makes it 2792 days since the last Michigan victory. And counting. 7 consecutive wins for the Buckeyes. And before the last Michigan win, they owned another 6 straight victories. Michigan hasn’t won twice in a row against their southerly neighbors since the year 2000. I don’t even want to tell you what was happening in that year. The closest Michigan came to matching that in their run was 4 consecutive wins, 5 wins without losing if you count the tie of ’92 and the Michigan win of ’93 (I’m not that generous). You can tell me JT was short. You can tell me we were one boneheaded John O’Korn mistake away. But the fact remains that Michigan has lost 7 iterations of what is supposed to be the greatest rivalry in college football in a row. Do you know what that means? That means four consecutive classes of Michigan undergrads never got to see them win The Game. Heck, someone that started their undergrad degree in 2012 and then went to Michigan law school never saw a victory. This is not a rivalry. It resembles one at times, sure, but it currently lacks parity. It featured a game last year that saw an Ohio State team who barely escaped the likes of Maryland and Nebraska eviscerate their opponent. What has The Game given us Michigan fans to be excited about after it’s over?
Every rivalry boasts its own signature moments, and Michigan-Ohio State is perhaps the most famous for such occasions. Pick any episode you like: Woody Hayes’s hilarious antics, Jim Harbaugh guaranteeing victory and then backing it up, The Game of the Century, etc. But Wolverines will notice one thing; there’s not a single, solitary example in recent memory that favors Michigan. I mean, seriously, what do we have to brag about from the 2000s? Fatboy Brady Hoke barely beating a team that had lost Jim Tressel and finished at 6-6 (go ahead, it’s alright to watch it just to see Michigan win; I often do so while scarfing down a pint of Ben and Jerry’s)? Karan Higdon essentially being forced to guarantee victory and, of course, not backing it up? The Revenge Tour that avenged every loss except the most important one? These are not the makings of college football lore; they’re sad stories that we try to avoid until they get shoved in our face on social media again, forcing us to re-live the horror anew.
There’s a matchup, though, that has compensated for this lack of excitement, a game Michigan fans more readily circle on their calendar. What the Ohio State game has been wanting this past decade has more than been present in the Michigan State game.
How could I make the case for this rivalry superseding The Game, especially when the figures for Michigan look similarly abysmal in recent history? Let’s face it, Michiganders, Mark Dantonio had owned this rivalry for some time when Harbaugh took over, and you could argue he still does (boasting an 8-4 record against Michigan). Even with MSU rattling off four and then three straight wins against the Wolverines, though, this matchup has consistently had more fireworks behind it than UM-OSU. You needn’t look any further than Mike Hart to thank someone for setting it off.
“I was just laughing. I thought it was funny. (The Spartans) got excited, it’s good. Sometimes you get your little brother excited when you’re playing basketball and let him get the lead. Then you just come back and take it back.”
These iconic words would work Dantonio into a fit of rage so severe, he would take the next 7 of 8 from Michigan. MSU averaged a margin of victory of ~14.5 during that stretch, the lone Michigan victory in 2012: 12-10. So why has this rivalry been more exciting to watch? I’d argue there’s a level of hatred and a sense that victory is a necessity, not a possibility, unlike that matchup in late-November. Fans have witnessed this passion in several incidents over the past 12 years.
It began, of course, with the little brother comments. Mike Hart ignited this rivalry, and he sent it to a fever pitch the likes of which hadn’t been seen before. “Little Brother,” “Lil’ Bro,” “Baby Bro,” and countless variations have become a calling card for Michigan fans attempting to dismiss their MSU counterparts in arguments, and Spartans have sought to use it against UM fans given their recent success. It has quite literally become a war of words, two words to be exact. The winner of the Paul Bunyan Trophy gets to in addition claim the right to use “Little Brother” when referring to the other team from Michigan for the next 12 months (but good luck trying to explain to the losers that they’ve lost that privilege). This captivating battle has, of course, also played itself out on the field, though.
October 17th, 2015. A date which will live in Michigan infamy. College Gameday on the Diag. Little Brother at the Big House, a 3:30 kickoff that would end under the lights. And boy did the Wolverines have those lights in their eyes.
It was over. Michigan was a punt away from turning the tide, from marching on toward a College Football Playoff berth after a bump in the road in the opener against Utah. Jim Harbaugh was going to start his career 1-0 against his rivals. I’d like to think that in some alternate universe, he did, and he’s happy, and we’re happy. But until scientists discover that portal (and Michigan fans fling themselves headlong into it), we’re stuck in reality. I’m not going to link the video. Nor will I repeat the seven words proclaimed by Sean McDonough, whose voice I’ve come to loathe solely because he broadcasted that dark moment. If Little Brother has been a calling card for Michigan, that line has been Sparty’s identity these last four years. And who could blame them? It was like Jordan Poole’s buzzer beater on steroids. A last-second, all-hope-is-lost miracle to beat a team onto which you feel an unGODly amount of unearned praise is heaped each year? You just can’t script that any better. It was heartbreak, it was ecstasy, it was the epitome of why we care about a bunch of 18-22 year-olds engaging in organized helmet-bashing. And it was the start of the Jim Harbaugh era.
The following year’s battle for Paul Bunyan wasn’t nearly as thrilling, but it was a chance for Michigan fans to breathe a sigh of relief they hadn’t emitted in quite some time. It saw the #2 Wolverines see off a State team that would win just 3 games that year. And oh, the memes. The beautiful memes. If Jim Harbaugh can’t win the big one, at least he hasn’t come close to producing an absolute dumpster fire of a team anywhere near as bad as Michigan State in 2016. But the sense of superiority would be short-lived.
Oh, how I loathe John O’Korn. 5 interceptions. Five interceptions in 2017. Individual players don’t lose games, or so conventional wisdom suggests. But Johnny came about as close as you can. One of the greatest atmospheres in Michigan Stadium’s history, reduced to dead silence when the final Hail Mary attempt fell to the turf. Heartbreak again. And once again, the beauty of this rivalry. Michigan would again seek to exact revenge for a teeth-grinding loss at the Big House in East Lansing.
“Patterson, winding up he’s got a receiver…
PEOPLES JONES! DOWN THE SIDELINE! PEOPLES JONES! TOUCHDOOOWWWN WOLVERINES! SEVENTY NINE YARDS!”
I didn’t hear that Gus Johnson call live, because I was perched in the top row of that stadium, clutching my face in sheer rapture. That single play is rivaled only by the aforementioned Poole buzzer beater as my favorite in Michigan sports history. It once again perfectly encapsulated the need to win this game felt by fans of both teams. I was excited when the final whistle sounded, sure, but more than that, I was relieved. Relieved that I didn’t have to go another 12 months being reminded of our inability to dismiss the Spartans. Relieved that State was once again Lil’ Bro, and order had been restored to the college football world.
I don’t feel that need going into The Game. I feel excitement, nerves, and utter despair when Michigan inevitably loses again. I’ll be the first one to admit, I have a bad case of recency bias. I wasn’t a Michigan fan during their glory days. But I think my feeling toward this rivalry reflects that of a lot of Wolverines who are around my age. I know it reflects the attitude of Devin Bush. And speaking of him, remember this? How’s that for a signature rivalry moment?
It’s the, sigh, alright, one time, “Trouble with the Snap.” It’s the 3-9 season. It’s the nightmare at the Big House. And it’s the “orchestrated stormtrooper march” from which Devin Bush refused to back down. It’s Chase Winovich carrying the “Little Brother” torch. It’s good old-fashioned hatred. And it’s a feeling of anticipation that comes knocking every time the Monday morning of the State game dawns. Above all, it’s something Michigan-Ohio State currently lacks. A palpable abhorrence that reflects itself in interviews, the games themselves, and darn near every day of the year. It is the year of our Lord 2019. And I can’t wait to play Michigan State.
Thinking Out Loud—on My Keyboard 