It's been 11 years since Ohio State's worst defeat in any sport.
I'm not here to debate that point today. Keep your 1969 Michigan takes to yourself, Larry.
The 2007 BCS Title Game between Jim Tressel's Buckeyes and Urban Meyer's Gators was a generational loss with many layers to it. We'll recap them briefly - in as painless a manner as possible - only because we'll need this context further down the page. Take a sip of whatever you're drinking. Okay, let's do this (remember, it's a happy fairy tale story that just happens to have a catastrophic ending)
Nothing else left to see here, folks
Ohio State ended its 2005 season by setting a school record for yardage against Notre Dame in final Tempe Fiesta Bowl, where the Buckeyes already had fresh memories of winning two other bowl games in Sun Devil Stadium - one for a national title! College football's first-ever BCS Championship Game - the following year - would be just an hour away in Glendale in a fancy new stadium.
The clock to get back to Phoenix started ticking while the celebration stage was still on the field.
Troy Smith talked about it while donning an ill-fitting Fiesta Bowl Champions hat. We know where the championship is next year; we'd like to come back. Eight months later they were the preseason No.1 for 2006 and kept that ranking all year long, surviving two No.1 vs. No.2 matchups along the way.
One was at the defending national champions' house in Austin, where the Buckeyes were dominant. Equal parts validation and revenge. The destiny was fulfilling itself, on schedule.
The other ended the regular season, against Michigan. You could see that historic showdown coming a month in advance when the Wolverines survived Iowa - the last ranked team in their way - and nobody was challenging Ohio State until The Game arrived. Five full weeks of hype added to a matchup that is always hyped.
They ended up making multiple documentaries about that edition of The Game, which the Buckeyes won 42-39. Ohio State beating Michigan is an extraordinary event by itself; but this was also a play-in game for the national title that was widely believed to be a layup for the winner in Columbus.
Following that documentary-worthy afternoon: 51 days of adulation. Our final 51 days of innocence, as Ohio State football and the entire sport changed on the 52nd night when conference superiority and aggregated pride abruptly overwhelmed how we still view college football a decade later.
GLENDALE - an hour from triumphant Tempe and all of those other wonderful memories - would SERVE AS A coronation SITE and one more fond desert memory.
We got seven weeks to marinate in the glory of going wire-to-wire atop every poll, and this came after five weeks of anticipatory hype for No.1 vs. No.2. Troy Smith collected a Heisman Trophy by the largest margin ever and then appeared at countless awards banquets where abundant carbohydrates were served - but that didn't matter. Nothing was beating this team on any field.
Glendale, an hour from triumphant Tempe and all of those other wonderful memories, would be the site of this coronation and one more fond desert memory. Phoenix was Columbus West. This would be the closest thing Ohio ever had to its own royal wedding.
When celebration night arrived, the Buckeyes did not. Their most electric player scored on the first play, which ended up being his last play ever after being lost to an injury during the end zone celebration. It took half an hour of real time to grasp that the game would be uncompetitive even if they played it 10 more times. Those 51 days had changed everything.
The Ohio State Marching Band took the field at halftime to perform its ode to Titanic, complete with the greatest metaphor for man's unending hubris breaking apart and sinking into the North Atlantic, which on this night was literally the Florida sideline. You could not create a more perfect humiliation in a lab.
That's enough detail. A single evening reshaped how Buckeye football was perceived; it altered the validity of a midwest team being considered nationally relevant and spoiled the memory of one of Ohio State's greatest seasons and players - all following a full year of anticipation and celebration.
We have not seen its equal. Not in losing the subsequent title game to LSU, not in that single, title-stealing loss in 2010 in Madison, not in fumbling the ending of 2013, not in squandering an historic roster in 2015. The 2006 season-ender is without peer.
So what I'm saying is that what just happened to the Minnesota Vikings might be worse.
Oh my God. via
Back in May of 2014 Minneapolis surprised everybody by beating out New Orleans to be the Super Bowl LII host city.
It was a huge upset, seeing as how 1) New Orleans is a bankable host city 2) the Superdome had just completed universally-lauded renovations post-Katrina 3) Minneapolis is in Minnesota, 4) the Super Bowl takes place in February, and 5) the stadium in Minneapolis where it was to be played did not yet exist.
The 2013 Vikings had gone 5-10-1 while closing the Metrodome for good. They would play two full seasons at the University of Minnesota while their fancy Super Bowl-caliber indoor/outdoor home was being built downtown. The team was bad now but had four full seasons to get championship-worthy and make history in its own living room.
The Minneapolis Miracle's half-life: one week
The clock for Minnesota to play in the Minneapolis Super Bowl started ticking while the announcement for being the host city was still being distributed.
Minnesota hired Mike Zimmer to be its coach and improved by two wins in 2014 in his honeymoon season. Then in 2015 it went 11-5 and lost by one point to the two-time conference champion Seahawks. It was now a playoff team and a contender, two seasons ahead of when it would be hosting the Super Bowl.
Prior to last season the Vikings dealt with losing their excellent quarterback Teddy Bridgewater and their franchise player Adrian Peterson. They went 8-8, but had a solid nucleus along with six pro bowlers. The front office drafted Dalvin Cook to fill Peterson's void. This team would be a contender, and everyone knew it.
The Super Bowl host Vikings went 13-3 this season, sweeping the division bully Packers and losing only one game at home, in which Cook tore his ACL and was lost for the season. Minnesota shared the best record in the conference with the Philadelphia Eagles, but since Philly beat Carolina and Minnesota didn't, that common opponent served as the tiebreaker for home-field advantage.
You could already ENVISION the future, where a championship parade snaked ITS WAY through the Twin Cities.
When the Eagles beat the Falcons, the road to the Super Bowl veered east from Minneapolis. Meanwhile, the Vikings beat the Saints for the third time on an improbable walk-off bomb that immediately became the play of the year in football at any level (apologies to Alabama's post-midnight OT winner). Minnesota's season opened with a victory over New Orleans, as did their playoff run. Minneapolis had beaten New Orleans for that season's Super Bowl. It was a glorious trifecta, years in the making.
Tears. Celebration. Destiny. You could already see the future, where a championship parade snaked through the Twin Cities. There would be confetti, parkas and purple for miles.
What started nearly four years earlier was now coming down to one final game, a quick trip to Philly to play a team that had Nick Foles, frightener of nobody, as its starting quarterback. Win there and a two-week state-wide party would begin in earnest. The eyes of the world would descend on the host city and its championship team.
Following that documentary-worthy win over the Saints: Seven days of adulation. Minnesota's final week of innocence, as the memories of both the impossible Saints victory and the previous four years of buildup would be vaporized at Lincoln Financial Field. Their magical season lost its value faster than a new car driving off a dealer's lot.
The Vikings scored the game's first touchdown and no one was injured during the celebration, but the Eagles scored the next 38 points and Minnesota didn't score again. Their season was over. Philly fans turned Minnesota's signature SKOL chant into FOLES to deliver an extra layer of perfect agony.
But the pain was only just beginning. Guess who already had all the tickets to the Super Bowl and is now taking a bath to add financial insult to emotional injury?
#SuperBowl ticket prices are falling fast as Vikings fan sell theirs-- and experts expect prices to keep falling until 72 hours before the game. https://t.co/1rs6xZjZvA pic.twitter.com/vkuXXnsDfm
— Daniel Roberts (@readDanwrite) January 23, 2018
Philly fans are currently buying Vikings' fans Super Bowl tickets directly from Vikings fans at a discount. Tickets procured well in advance, probably when they were first made available. Tickets that were celebrated pridefully, shown off and protected for months. They're being sold online right now at a financial and emotional loss.
The people they're selling them to are making travel plans for Minneapolis, where they will wear their gear and shout their songs and everything else people from Philadelphia normally shout at strangers throughout a famously nice city's bars and restaurants. The Super Bowl carries two full weeks of hype with it, and NFL fans notoriously have plenty of free time and curiously inexhaustible funds. This won't be just a two-day reminder of what happened.
FOLES! FOLES! FOLES! FOLES!
One of the Vikings' end zones is already green. Super Bowls evolved on the hype surrounding them, which makes Super Bowl coverage inescapable. Minneapolis' tourism bureau, local news, retailers and businesses have had year-long plans to cater to that spotlight.
Which will include the NFC Champions. Who just beat the host city's team. By 31 points. As a three-point underdog. Fairy tales aren't real. Life is pain. Everything dies.
Imagine if that Glendale nightmare had been a CFP play-in game, and the host city for the championship was Columbus. Gators would descend on Ohio for one final clash in the Horseshoe - against, say, Southern Cal - with one of its end zones painted in orange and blue.
Gator chomps would appear on your local news as they were filmed in the Short North each night. It's Great! To Be! A Florida Gator! chants would spontaneously be heard no matter where you happened to be. You didn't think what happened 11 Januarys could be any worse than it already was.
Georgia lost in Georgia to Alabama on the final play of college football's title game two weeks ago, which sucked for Georgia. Losing to Alabama is something SEC teams generally do; playing bowl games in the South isn't the unicorn that playing Super Bowls in frozen states is. You can choose from football's pain potpourri to try and find a more humiliating, slow-release soul-crushing defeat than what's still being suffered in Minneapolis.
I don't think you'll be able to find one. All losses hurt. This one appears to be in a class by itself. Enjoy the next 10 days, Minneapolis! It will all be over soon.
