Once upon a time the state of Ohio saved America from itself.
The Civil War - despite ending 150 years ago - is still being fought by some of our citizens for various bad reasons that converge on a regionally-bastardized and creative misrepresentation of history. Nevertheless, however you choose to remember the 19th century - real or imagined - it is undeniable that America emerged from her historical low point with considerable credit going to our nation's 17th state.
For your consideration: Five Ohio-born Civil War officers eventually became president. Point Pleasant's Ulysses S. Grant was the commanding general of the Union army. Somerset's Phillip Sheridan burned down the Shenandoah Valley and was instrumental in the Confederacy's surrender. And Lancaster's William T. Sherman drove 300 miles into the heart of the South.
That's without even mentioning George Custer, William Rosecrans, the Fighting McCooks, Salmon P. Chase, Jacob Cox or Edwin Stanton. Ohio's Civil War roster was absolutely loaded - and on top of that, it was spared from much of the calamity as nearly all the battles were fought outside of its borders. You could say Ohio's strength of schedule wasn't the best, but come playoff time there was little doubt that the Buckeye state was a powerhouse. It was one hell of a road team.
Fugitive slaves commonly referred to the Ohio River as the River Jordan; biblical parallel to the Israelites crossing over into the Promised Land. Once it was to their backs they were free. When the war ended the Confederacy was welcomed back into the union, but its battle flag, as you might have seen on the news recently, still flies at the behest of some state governments.
That flag can proudly hang in front of any dilapidated front porch it wants to. Its place in front of a government building is only slightly less appropriate or sensical than flying the union jack would be. But private citizens? No one's taking your flags, man. They're yours, as are all of your other legal but questionable purchases.
This is the beauty of America. You can still proudly wear your Alabama 2015 Sugar Bowl shirt as well. Like that flag, it's quite useful for quickly identifying those who fought valiantly, but still failed to achieve victory.
History is written by winners. Let’s get Situational.
The Patriot
De'Nard J. Pinckney graduated from Fordham University just over a month ago.
Five months earlier you met him, above, enjoying the sight of Michael Bennett flinging Blake Sims to the Superdome turf. A few weeks earlier he had personally tallied six tackles for the Rams - two for a loss - in a season and career-ending loss to then-top ranked New Hampshire of the FCS. Yes, he played college football too.
Pinckney earned all-Patriot League honors starting at linebacker for Fordham. The night the Sylvania, OH native played in his final college game he watched his favorite team of his adolescence annihilate Wisconsin in the Big Ten Championship. Shortly thereafter his cousin J.T. Moore invited him to attend the Sugar Bowl and that's the path Pinckney took to being a two-second celebrity during the ESPN broadcast.
PINCKNEY INSTANTLY BECAME AN OHIO ICON JUST BY BEING HIMSELF.
You've probably rewatched that game, at minimum, three times since January. Your emotions swing in every conceivable direction over the course of those three hours, from the Buckeyes trailing 21-6 to conspicuously dominating the Crimson Tide for the better part of the game, to still requiring The Closer to pick off Alabama's final desperation heave to seal the game.
The broadcast contains fan imagery that will be fondly remembered for decades. However, no image seized on our collective euphoria, absolution and state pride like Pinckney's did. He became an Ohio icon instantly - and without even trying.
Congratulations on graduating from college, De'Nard. Someone hire this man.
The FRONT LINE
Remember Block O? That group of giants pictured above is not it.
From the left it starts with Taylor Decker, Ohio State's best offensive lineman whom previous OL coach Jim Bollman couldn't be bothered to recruit. Next to him is Darryl Baldwin, whose college football career began with sacking quarterbacks (he actually got one against Akron) and ended with him trying to prevent them.
The most celebrated OL haul in OSU history.
To his left is Michigan legacy Jacoby Boren, arguably the angriest, shit-stirring lineman the Buckeyes have had since LeCharles Bentley. Then there's Pat Elflein, who like Tyvis Powell heroically committed to Ohio State in the summer of 2011 when it was the least cool thing to do.
Not pictured is Billy Price, yet another former defensive lineman. That was Ohio State's offensive line in 2014: an elegant patchwork combination converted defenders, formerly neglected recruits, old guys, young guys and short guys.
The Slobs. They were the viciously competent heart and soul of the national championship team, committing only two holding penalties all year. They were everything Block O was supposed to be but without the hype.
Seven years ago Michael Brewster and Mike Adams had been the top-ranked players at any position in the states of Florida and Ohio, respectively. J.B. Shugarts was the top-ranked tackle in Texas. The OL class of 2008 was the most celebrated of the Tressel era and couldn't have arrived at a better time, as the 2007 class contained zero offensive linemen (!) and only Bryant Browning was viable from the 2006 class.
Ed Warinner deserves a Nobel Prize, a key to the city of his choosing - or both.
They had decent careers and played in three BCS bowls, but their legacies were degraded by both high expectations and Bollman's penchant for turning four and five-star recruits into undrafted free agents and courtesy mini-camp invitees. There was also Shugarts' 25 career false starts, which has to be a collegiate record.
Anyway, the following season the Buckeyes signed Corey Linsley and Jack Mewhort with a fraction of the fanfare and no nickname. Andrew Norwell arrived on campus the following year and all three eventually started on playoff teams as NFL rookies.
Block O's epitaph, fair or not, was that it played a starring role in Terrelle Pryor and Braxton Miller making countless highlights with their legs out of dismal pass protection. But the larger takeaway here is two-fold: 1) there is no bigger crapshoot in college recruiting than when it comes to offensive lineman, and 2) coaching matters, and Ed Warinner deserves a Nobel Prize, a key to the city of his choosing or both.
The Bourbon
There is a bourbon for every situation. Sometimes the spirits and the events overlap, which means that where bourbon is concerned there can be more than one worthy choice.
The 2014 edition of the 4th of July Situational endorsed Liber-Tea as an Independence Day libation. I'm not backing off of that - you should still make pitchers of those this weekend as you figurative spike the football at the Brits' expense.
Eagle Rare and Rebel Yell: American bourbons.
That said, I regularly hear from some readers who believe bourbon cocktails are sacrilege in that neat is the only way to consume the world's finest liquor. We're all entitled to our own opinions; I believe these vocal whiskey enthusiasts are correct - when speaking to distinctive, expensive and hard-to-find varieties. The stuff in your liquor store that you can afford? You can Liber-Tea most of that stuff without shame.
But if you side with the anti-cocktail contingent - and you come here seeking guidance on how to express your patriotism this weekend via American-born brown liquor - I'm providing two options. The first is Eagle Rare, a brand that sinks its freedom talons into all who taste it. It last cameo'd in this space as the foundation of The Kermit.
This affordable and oaky 90-proofer is heavy on rye which places is it on the spicy side of the catalog. Arriving at your neighbor's 4th of July barbecue with Eagle Rare in hand sends a strong message; you would be effectively channeling a modern-day Paul Revere. Eagle Rare is pragmatic, has good intentions and sits on the right side of history.
Perhaps that's a little too America for you. In that case, there's Rebel Yell.
RY costs roughly the same as ER and tastes like the wet spot produced by two raisins in the throes of forbidden carnal passion. It's what Kentucky Gentleman drinkers choose when they feel like gettin' fancy. The best compliment Rebel Yell can be given is that it shines on bourbon's bottom shelf. Drinking it means unconditionally surrendering. Sure, you may claim you'll rise again but no one believes you. Especially Eagle Rare drinkers.
So if you don't enjoy Liber-Tea this weekend, try Eagle Rare. However, if you still choose Rebel Yell in public that's fine too; it just makes it easier for people to judge you.
The Playoff
I sat next to a Penn State fan on a commercial flight recently and he mentioned how much he treasured Beaver Stadium bringing back Sweet Caroline after shelving it in 2011 in the wake of the Jerry Sandusky tragedy.
Speculation was the song was pulled due to its touching me, touching you refrain; an overreach since Neil Diamond's music had no role in enabling a child predator to use university buildings as rape rooms. His real crime, however petty, was making a lousy song people enjoy shouting:
The silliness of the ban got me thinking about other stadium traditions that might contain questionable lyrics. Sweet Caroline was supposed to be about Diamond's former wife Marsha. The problem was he needed a three-syllable name to make the chorus work since stretching out Marsha was awkward, so he made Car-o-line Kennedy his muse instead. There's no lyrical scandal, other than that stupid bamp bamp bamp part.
House of Pain has a stadium anthem that is far less nuanced:
From the song: If your girl steps up, I'm smacking the ho.
Jump Around, played in Camp Randall Stadium at the start of the 4th quarter since the 1990s casually supports violence against women. House of Pain also claims to have more rhymes the the Bible’s got Psalms, which is to say it has no fewer than 151 rhymes.
Checking the forensics, this is a song that rhymes cops with Dunkin’ Donut shops and up with up more than once. They're double-counting, which is disingenuous - in addition to promoting bad behavior.
Wisconsin doesn't care - Badger fans love that song. Short of being about coaches' sons microwaving parrots no one in Madison will find offense in any stadium tribute played while the Badgers are coasting through their annual bullshit schedules.
As for the least offensive stadium song played throughout college football stadiums, there's this:
Bruce Channel's Hey Baby is everything you'd want in a wholesome courtship anthem, even when accounting for the sexualized oohs and ahhs added by the student body. There is something decidedly tawdry about beguiling a female by calling her baby.
After all, a woman has a proper, formal name. In Ohio that lady goes by Dorothy Sloop - and the love letter written for expressly for her is both enduring and portable:
The rankings: Sloopy > Baby > Caroline > Wisconsin's tacit endorsement of domestic violence.
Have a wonderful 4th of July. Go Bucks, Go Ohio, Go America.
