Happy Birthday, From Me to You

By Johnny Ginter on July 10, 2013 at 2:00 pm
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Now we can match!

Boy, what a great year that was, huh Urban?

We did so much together, didn't we? Beating Michigan, going undefeated, being accused of fostering an environment where a future alleged murderer could grow a criminal empire... pretty much everything your little head could've possibly dreamed up!

But that was back when you were 48. You're 49 now, practically a grown up already! Pretty soon you'll be getting your own car, asking girls out on dates to the malt shop, and maybe even one day we might let you watch an R rated movie (as long as it isn't by that horrible Woody Allen).

But let's not get ahead of ourselves and forget why we're here today. Happy birthday, lil' Urbz! All of your Ohio State related dreams have come true, and with the possible exception of a few loose ends to tie up, such as crushing Nick Saban into a fine pulp or beating an inexplicably resurgent Lane Kiffin in the BCS title game, you are sitting in your stocking feet atop the scarlet and gray bouncy castle that is your world these days.

But, seeing as how it is your birthday, I figured we could make a few suggestions for gifts that your friends and family might be willing to help you out with to make this day even more fun-filled than it already is. Enjoy!

A CERTIFICATE ENTITLING THE BEARER TO ONE HOUR OF UTTER RAGE

Ever since you signed the "pink contract," Urban, your approach to life and football and family seems to have taken a positive turn. You're enjoying things now, look healthy, and seem happier than you have been in years, which must be tearing you up inside.

I know you, Urban. You are fueled by Red Bull and hatred. Your offseason smile belies a man that functions best when angry at the entire world; a bitter, furious husk of a human. So said certificate will enable you, for one hour, to become the living embodiment of pain and fury. Send sarcastic texts to Pat Fitzgerald, scream at Tom Herman, make fun of Braxton Miller's shoes, whatever. Just as long as you get a little taste of the pure metal fury that once coursed through your veins.

For one hour. Then it's back to Denny's buffet and fishing in South Dakota for you, mister!

A list of every person of ill repute who has ever interacted in any way with various sportswriters throughout the country

Probably a better giftHooray!

Let's be honest, Urban. You let Aaron Hernandez allegedly kill multiple people. It is 100% your fault. Had you been paying attention, you probably could've stopped 9/11 and caught Osama a lot faster than it ended up taking. That's just a personal shame that you're going to have to live with.

But since we live in a world where everyone is personally responsible for the actions of every person they interact with, even many years after the fact, we decided to give you a big ol' list of sportswriters/ESPN personalities/assorted morons who are totally complicit in a wide range of Really Bad Things (tm) because of a passing acquaintanceship. It gets really fun when we get to the Mike Tyson section.

A rub on tattoo that says "HOT DOG" and has a picture of a sweaty dog on it

For fashion.

A 37 minute video consisting of Brady Hoke slowly eating his way through a large pepperoni pizza from Papa John's

In case you'd like to try out that motivational technique from A Clockwork Orange where you tape your player's eyes open and force them to relive this dozens of times over a 72 hour period. Alternatively: a video that gives a guided tour through the football facilities of any random Division III school in the country.

A 15-20 second long life-affirming message from Jimmy Buffet, left on the answering machine of your choice to be preserved for all eternity

I think it's kind of cute that you're going through your Jimmy Buffet phase! Maybe once you get a little older and wiser you'll realize that you weren't so much into Cheeseburger in Paradise as much as your friends were, and you just wanted to be cool. But for now, I'll be right there with you, singing such hits as "Why Don't We Get Drunk" and "third Jimmy Buffet song you are probably aware of."

So we decided it'd be nice if we could get Mr. Cool Shades Soakin' Up Rays himself to leave you a little inspiration on your answering message. Maybe a little something to encourage you to be the Jimmy Buffet of the college football world. Wouldn't that be great?

Tim Tebow's real number

Bad news, little guy. The life of an NFL player is pretty hard! You've got so many commitments and responsibilities that sometimes it just gets hard keeping track of them all, and things like keeping in touch with old college coaches just gets too hard sometimes. So, Urban, that's why it's hard to tell you that you've really been communicating with 19 year old Adam Welsh for the past 15 months, an asthmatic intern from Brown hired by Tebow to handle his social media requests and casual internet hookups.

But not after today, because today is the day where you get Tebow's real cell number, the phone that he uses swear words on and sends semi-frequent drunken texts to Verne Lundquist with.

A lovely cheese pizza... just for you!

Honestly, before you came I was truly afraid that the Ohio State football program was headed down a dark path, with a road that ended up somewhere between Iowa and Virginia Tech. Probably a little hyperbolic, but a 6-7 season and a bowl ban will do that to a man.

Instead, we got incredible recruiting classes, great coaches, an undefeated season, made pretty much everyone we can't stand mad in some way or an other (the most precious jewel of all), while at the same time slowly coming to the understanding that yeah, our head football coach isn't a little porcelain mouse that will shatter at the faintest sign of stress. Overall coach, I think your 48th year went exceptionally well and your 49th looks even brighter. Enjoy the pie.

You earned it.

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