Today I went to a local bar to watch the 0-3 Browns take on the 0-3 Cincinnati Bengals. The bar cleverly billed it as the “Someone’s Gotta Win” party and “The Battle Of The Beatens.” And, of course, someone did win — the Bengals. In front of the appalled Cleveland fans, they crushed the Browns, 31-7.
The Browns have had a lot of lows since they came back to the NFL and began to perfect the art of futility, but this may be the lowest point yet: getting drilled, at home, by a bad Cincinnati team to go 0-4, which means the season is effectively over . . . again. When are Cleveland fans going to stop buying tickets to watch these guys?
Today, the Ohio Statehouse lawn was graced with hundreds of tiny American flags arranged in neat rows. The Flag Memorial featured 2,977 flags — one for each of the people murdered in the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001 — and were configured to group the flags to reflect the people who were killed at the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the downed plane in Pennsylvania.
2,977 flags is a lot of flags, and 2,977 lives was a lot of lives. It is important for us always to remember that.
Midwest America is viewed by many as pretty boring territory. Flyover country. Farmland. Flat as a pancake, without soaring mountains, beautiful beaches, or other natural scenic wonders.
But boy! Reading this morning about a killer storm like Hurricane Irma, which has left the Caribbean battered and Floridians panicked as it bears down on places like Naples and Tampa, from the quiet comfort of my kitchen here in Columbus, makes me reflect on what we don’t get here in the Midwest — like hurricanes. Or tsunamis. Or deadly earthquakes that stretch the Richter scale. Or raging wildfires sweeping across dried-out hillsides, avalanches, and colossal mudslides. Here in America’s heartland we get a bad thunderstorm now and then, a river might flood here and there, and tornadoes are always a risk, but when it comes to bad weather and natural disasters that’s about it. We’re shielded from the worst by hundreds of miles of non-coastal buffer zone and natural topography.
It all depends on how you look at the risk-reward calculus, I suppose. We might not get the stirring vistas — unless, like me, you think that well-tended rolling farms and barns have their own special appeal — but the angry weather and natural disasters that we don’t get here are definitely a positive when the killer storms come calling.
Our thoughts are with the folks down in Florida and the south, many of whom are transplanted Midwesterners, as they ride out the storm. Here’s hoping that everyone was able to get out of harm’s way.
It’s August, it’s Thursday night, and the Ohio State Buckeye football team is playing a Big Ten game — and on the road, no less.
This sort of thing isn’t supposed to happen to one of the most tradition-rich teams in college football, but this year all of the tradition goes out the window. No more first-game cupcake, with Ohio State pulverizing one of the directional schools that are served up annually as fodder for the big boys. No, this year we’re starting the season in earnest, with a game at Indiana this week and Oklahoma visiting the Horseshoe next week. That’s called jumping into the season with both feet. Sure, Indiana isn’t one of the Big Ten’s recognized powerhouses, but it’s a conference game, and Indiana has played the Buckeyes very tough indeed in recent years. And all indications are that Indiana and its fans are pumped to the max for this game. Indeed, their coach is calling the most significant home opener in Indiana history.
As a Buckeye traditionalist, the idea of Ohio State playing football in August — much less on a Thursday night, much less against a Big Ten team — rankles me, but the sport of college football is changing and the scheduling is changing with it. Even though it’s August, I’ll be watching with interest tonight, to see if head coach Urban Meyer and his staff can once again blend new players with more experienced upperclassmen, replace a slew of talented Buckeyes who have moved on to the pros, and make another run at the college football playoff.
But Big Ten football, for the Buckeyes, in August? I still shudder at the thought.
When I’m home or on the road for work, I rarely eat breakfast. But when I’m traveling for fun, and can eat later in the morning, I’ll gladly start the day with a meal.
This morning, on our Indians’ game weekend, we went to Jack Flaps, a breakfast/lunch joint in one of the arcades on Euclid Avenue. I got the Jack B. Flaps platter, which consists of two pancakes, butter, whiskey brown sugar syrup, whipped cream, and — and this was interesting — puffed corn. With a side of savory country sausage and a good cup of freshly brewed coffee, it was an exceptional way to start the day. I can now say I’m ready to sit on my butt for a few hours and watch athletes perform.