My final post.
I want 50 degrees a wind chill and a crystal clear blue sky, I want a fall Saturday in Ohio stadium I want to get up at 6am, beer in hand by 7 and up at the stadium tailgating with the other hard cores by 8. I want a bratwurst. I want coolers filled with ice cold beer. I want four tables packed with cheese, lunch meat, veggies, pasta salad, chips, salsa, Mexican bean dip, and much much more. I want to basically fill up on beer. I want to stand in line cross legged for 30 min about to burst at a port o john and I want to see the steam rise when I take a good pee. I want to piss behind a car door; I want swat teams of cops swarming around in shifts like the SS. I want to see Eric Shmit in four kegs of beer survive the weekend. And I want to see how he explains himself the day after. I want to be drunk off my ass with a F Michigan T-shirt on. I want people to ask what the fuck is a Hoosier I want to yell, "Ann Arbor is a whore!". And I want to acknowledge a fellow buckeye who will give me a hearty I-O in return from my O-H. I want the band to come to my tailgate playing the greatest fight song in the world. I want to shotgun three beers on the walk to the stadium. I want to see Michelle cry at everything. I want to walk into Ohio stadium, see the grass for the first time feel like Rudy's dad and mumble to myself, " this is the most beautiful site these tired old eyes have ever seen". I want to feel the chill that goes up my spine when The Best Damn Band In The Land strikes that first note. I want to yell when the drum major touches the ploom on the back bend. I want to pump my fist to the fight song. I want to see Jennifer answer the question, How many quarters in a football game? I want to get ready to hang on sloopy, I want to stand in those cold south stands for four hours with a million ups and downs of joy and agony with every play. I want to make myself hoarse from yelling O-H, I want to yell at the referees I want to do the asshole chant assss hoooole. I want to see Christy and her daughter storm the field. I want to eat 4-dollar hotdogs and soft pretzels with cheese. I want to hear the buckeye battle cry; I want to see the bucks, I want to see the bucks! I want to hear the band play brown eyed girl when we get ahead by four touchdowns. And I want to see cups of coke complimented with Capt. Morgan flying from all directions from the student section. I want to see script Ohio and watch the entire stadium celebrate. I want to win tickets from the corner office. I want to see the Neutron man shake his groove thing. I want to high five all my friends and every other person around me after the buckeyes score. I want to score. I find myself wanting, I find myself wanting so much. F Michigan and bring on the national champion Ohio State Buckeyes.
I want 50 degrees a wind chill and a crystal clear blue sky, I want a fall Saturday in Ohio stadium I want to get up at 6am, beer in hand by 7 and up at the stadium tailgating with the other hard cores by 8. I want a bratwurst. I want coolers filled with ice cold beer. I want four tables packed with cheese, lunch meat, veggies, pasta salad, chips, salsa, Mexican bean dip, and much much more. I want to basically fill up on beer. I want to stand in line cross legged for 30 min about to burst at a port o john and I want to see the steam rise when I take a good pee. I want to piss behind a car door; I want swat teams of cops swarming around in shifts like the SS. I want to see Eric Shmit in four kegs of beer survive the weekend. And I want to see how he explains himself the day after. I want to be drunk off my ass with a F Michigan T-shirt on. I want people to ask what the fuck is a Hoosier I want to yell, "Ann Arbor is a whore!". And I want to acknowledge a fellow buckeye who will give me a hearty I-O in return from my O-H. I want the band to come to my tailgate playing the greatest fight song in the world. I want to shotgun three beers on the walk to the stadium. I want to see Michelle cry at everything. I want to walk into Ohio stadium, see the grass for the first time feel like Rudy's dad and mumble to myself, " this is the most beautiful site these tired old eyes have ever seen". I want to feel the chill that goes up my spine when The Best Damn Band In The Land strikes that first note. I want to yell when the drum major touches the ploom on the back bend. I want to pump my fist to the fight song. I want to see Jennifer answer the question, How many quarters in a football game? I want to get ready to hang on sloopy, I want to stand in those cold south stands for four hours with a million ups and downs of joy and agony with every play. I want to make myself hoarse from yelling O-H, I want to yell at the referees I want to do the asshole chant assss hoooole. I want to see Christy and her daughter storm the field. I want to eat 4-dollar hotdogs and soft pretzels with cheese. I want to hear the buckeye battle cry; I want to see the bucks, I want to see the bucks! I want to hear the band play brown eyed girl when we get ahead by four touchdowns. And I want to see cups of coke complimented with Capt. Morgan flying from all directions from the student section. I want to see script Ohio and watch the entire stadium celebrate. I want to win tickets from the corner office. I want to see the Neutron man shake his groove thing. I want to high five all my friends and every other person around me after the buckeyes score. I want to score. I find myself wanting, I find myself wanting so much. F Michigan and bring on the national champion Ohio State Buckeyes.
