This may be my most enjoyable NFL postseason to date and here is why. The teams I have wanted to win have always come through, Peyton Manning has looked incredibly rattled, and the games have all been fairly decent games. This weekend’s matchups may shape my entire outlook on the National Football League.

Here are my picks on who should win and why I want them to:

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Recently, we embarked on our journey with our fearless leader Captain James. The journey I speak of is the 2006/2007 NBA basketball season. I am excited as usual with the start of any sports season that I follow. Yes, even the Browns’ season. However, something is different here. Although the start of this season has plenty similarities to the start of the 2006 Buckeyes, there’s a different flavor. I am feeling something I have never felt before being the passionate (demented) sports fan I am. Similar to the start of the Ohio State season, I enter the journey with the Cavaliers with something I have never experienced as a Cleveland sports fan…Expectations.

Though I expect to watch at least 70 of the 82 games in their entirety, my anxiety, and in turn, my pain on a nightly basis will not be as severe as it will be in late April hopefully through mid-June. Based on the sweet taste of what we were given last year by the King with an incredibly underperforming supporting cast, we must be aware that a) the King is only going to be getting better annually or 6-7 more years until he reaches his NBA pinnacle age of 28 and b) the supporting cast cannot possibly all under-perform to the degree they did last year again. Keeping this in mind, I plan on keeping my emotions on cruise control for the regular season with anticipation of a legitimate title run in the spring.

The similarities between the Cavs and Buckeyes stop with expectations. This Ohio State season is like no other season of my 22 years as a sports fan. We began the season as the number one team with National Champion expectations. Typically, based on my years of let downs and Cooper-coached teams, I have always been reluctant. However, like with the Cavs, something was different this year…I believed. For the first time since Jaret Wright was pitching for the Indians, I actually had started expecting a title with anything less being a total letdown. With the Indians, that never happened until the playoffs, and the one realistic possibility was stripped away by Jose Mesa. Never in my life have I gone into the beginning of a regular season with such lofty goals. And to date, I have never enjoyed a regular season more than I have enjoyed these last 11 weeks.

I tried to figure out what it was that made this regular season so special, and it became clear to me. The reason is college football. The sanctity of college Football puts its enjoyment on another level. In a “Remember the Titans-esque” manner, every team needs to be perfect in every way to go to the national title. This season made me a traditionalist and an avid opponent of the proposed “playoff structure.” The reason is every game from Northern Illinois to TEXAS to Cincinnati to Penn State to Iowa to Bowling Green to Michigan State to Indiana to Minnesota to Illinois to Northwestern to THE SHOWDOWN AT THE SHOE this weekend all meant something. (That was the best run-on sentence ever assembled for every Buckeye fan because each team brings back some memory for us die-hards and adds a bit more flavor to this weekend.) If we are not perfect, we have a failed season. I had hyped up four of those games to be potentially difficult…none of which were.

That brings us to the aforementioned Showdown at the Shoe.

Losing to Texas last year was one of the most painful moments of my life and beating Texas was the most redemptive and happy feeling I have ever experienced in my life…that was until this Saturday where one of them will be overtaken, hopefully the latter.

I remember after beating Texas, I had an epiphany where I started rooting for Michigan for the first time in my life so we would both be undefeated when we played them. This started on September 9^th. That is over two months now that I have been looking forward to this game. Once Michigan throttled Notre Dame, it was the first time I ever got joy from a U of M victory. I began a countdown on my dry-erase board at work 47 days out that has been updated daily since and is now down to three. Early on, my co-workers thought I was nuts and poked fun at me as I proudly wore my Tressel sweater vest every Friday. Now, they still know I am nuts, but know it is so much more than a joke. They know this is serious business but still cannot fathom my passion. Only two people who were born and raised Ohio State fans can relate. One is a 38-year-old who is still making the trek to the ‘Bus for the weekend. (I love to see people pushing 40 refusing to outgrow the game. Well, I guess my dad is turning 53 five days after the game, and he will be there, so obviously it is in my genes.)

I cannot explain my anticipation/anxiety/excitement/eagerness for the game, but for fun’s sake, I will attempt to make a scale based on how the game ranks for me with one being the lowest and this Michigan – Ohio State week being the highest:

1.     Getting back a test that you are unsure how you did on it that will affect your grade dramatically
2.     The first time you kiss
3.     Wondering what your punishment will be when you did something wrong as a kid when it is inevitable your parents will find out
4.     Christmas morning when you have people to buy you good stuff
5.     Turning 16 and being able to finally drive
6.     Christmas morning before you find out about Santa Claus
7.     Your first sexual experience of any kind
8.     The countdown to your 21^st birthday
9.     Your first time you have sex
 

Sum(1:9) * 1,000 = This week’s #1 Buckeyes vs #2 Michigan Showdown and the week leading up to it. (Primarily due to the rarity of this game versus the others)

This scale obviously is one that probably applies solely to me and is incredibly subjective, but nevertheless it accurately depicts how excited I am for this week. Any enemy of mine who is a fan of Ohio State this week is a friend. Any friend who likes Michigan is an enemy. Go Bucks

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DO NOT start drinking at noon if you want to be fully functional for the primetime 8:00 night game, especially if your name is Brian McGarry and you do not know what “slow sipping” means.

DO, even if you are smashed, follow every game ritual you normally would follow. For me, this included in changing clothes in a fury before the game started as well as bonging after every score, although it was utterly apparent I did not need to be doing so. (Ohio State had 6 scores and Iowa 3, chalk up 9 unnecessary binged beers for me.)

DO NOT expect a beer bong made up of a five gallon oil funnel, some plumbing tubing, a plastic valve, some caulk and a few metal fasteners, and making it even more destined to break, constructed by Brian McGarry, to hold up in the storm of the century.

DO realize you just referred to yourself in third person in consecutive “DO’s”

DO NOT let Paulie disappear upstairs with a 6-pack to watch the Michigan game. He will inevitably pass out at his desk.

DO, like mentioned in #2, maintain tradition. Winners adjust. Take the oil funnel covered with dried glue, put it in your mouth. Bong away, you are already drunk, you will be fine.

DO NOT make that one a double. I guarantee you it will give you a huge beer chest, and if you are inside, which you should not be, DO NOT do it on the couch.

DO something creative. You are a winner, there are 74,000 people crammed into the apartment making every trip to the fridge a pain in the ass. Grab a garbage bag, fill it with beer and ice. Take your new PC, personal cooler, to the couch by you and your friends making you never have to get up. Pure genius.

DO NOT extend that laziness too far to the point where you think you have Greg Maddux type control and can accurately toss an empty beer can out the door from across the room. You will almost certainly hit one of your friends in the face, getting beer on them, and if it’s Matt, sending them into a fury.

DO apologize. You are sloppy drunk. You are inevitably going to piss off at least 3-5 people on any given night.

DO NOT make one of those people a girl you once had feelings for five years ago in high school spawning a serious conversation, none of which you will remember. You will only remember it happened and about every fifth word.

DO remember Doob owes you $100 because when you were out back talking to him about being creepy he bet you $100 that Dani Ohio would come back out. She did not.

DO NOT agree to go to the bar with your brother in Farroni. Anyone with a brain is more than aware that you are too inept to go out in public. Furthermore, DO NOT tell him to invite the girl you have been flirting with. You will not remember her.

DO, however, when you are at the bar, throw a Mike Tyson-esque ass punch at a fat girl who is blocking the bar.

DO NOT try to fight back with her. She is about 6’1 255 lbs. You are drunk. Odds are stacked high against you.

DO let Louie Bitsko go into any bar alone. He will either not get in and lose his brother’s license or he will get to the bartender and ask this: “Yeah. Can you make me the Manliest Fucking Drink ever.”

DO NOT let Beatty go out drunk with a shirt he may ever want to wear again. He will almost certainly Hulk Hogan it sometime during the night.

DO try to remember to induce vomiting the night before you pass out if you have consumed close to 50 drinks throughout the day. (Man I wish I would remember this one) If not, you will wake up Sunday morning feeling as if a nail is in your forehead and you will throw up at least 15 times outside eventually waking up the whole house.

DO NOT let Lou drink heavily. He doesn’t drink much any more and was never a purebred drinker anyway. Watching him pound down the Doctor is fun until he is puking his guts out the next morning.

DO act very stunned when you return home to see the house spotless after you left it a mess and find the girl who cleaned it and is now in the process of folding Matt’s clothes. This is a weird situation

DO NOT worry about the weirdness. Down on one knee. Marry this girl. It’s odd and awkward, but you’ll understand one day.

DO come home from the bar on Friday night and have a techno/80’s type dance party. It is amazingly fun. If you are one of those uptight people who don’t “like” dancing, you have issues. Dancing is a fun time, just relax, do something clever and enjoy. (Side note, DO download Call on me by Eric Prydz.)

DO NOT worry about Matt on the couch. He’s not really trying to sleep, only faking while secretly loving the music being played at an earsplitting level. DO NOT listen when he complains about the 2-hour sausage fest the next morning.

DO cheat on Kristyn. She went to the Indian’s game on Thursday instead of staying with you. DO have a heart to heart with another girl just to spite her.

DO NOT admit it to anyone when you find out the next day that you had a heart to heart with a senior in high school.

DO wonder why Raddish has paid to live on campus for the past 5 years. This anomaly of a human being has less than a 30% occupancy rate for staying in his own room. That is even lower than our class attendance rate last year. (not counting Chris, between Dustan, Joey and myself I would bet around 50% attendance)

DO NOT let Dustan attempt to put his hand in the pilsener. It will shatter ultimately resulting in a trip to the hospital as well as multiple stitches.

DO realize you and Paul suck at beer pong these days and are miles away from your Elite 8 form.

DO NOT let your children ever root for a team not Ohio State. It is just too emotionally devastating to do that to your child. Please for their sake.

DO join the facebook group – Parents – Protect your children.

DO NOT think Dustan is not back allowed on the buckeye beard. I expect full participation from you Dustan.

DO expect me to have 5 bottles of champagne with me if Michigan plays OSU on November 18th with both teams undefeated and the BCS Title game on the line. I will be watching the game at OSU in mixed company so the champagne will either be drank with extreme joy, or broke over the sidewalk in a fit of rage. DO hope for good weather so Teddy, Gonzo and our receivers can run on their secondary b/c their front 7 is frightening. DO be pissed at Mario Manningham and Prescott Burgess for leaving our state to go play there. I DO realize this last paragraph probably has you fired up.

First, last Tuesday was a cold, rainy day and the concert was outside at Blossom. So it was a foregone certainty that it would be muddy, and the forecast called for more rain on the way. However, my friend talked me into going regardless because it was the last time we could hang out and drink before he moved. Apparently, we were not the only two fools that decided to face the weather (God intervened by the way and put a halt to the rain) and attend the concert, because the place was packed. It had as many people as the Dave Matthews Band concert (I am not a DMB fan, but did get smashed and blacked out for a majority of the concert) that I attended on a gorgeous summer day just two months earlier. I was baffled that a couple of 80’s bands could attract this many people.

Secondly, the awe strikingly large number of people who attended was the biggest hodge-podge conglomeration I have ever seen outside of the Progressive Fitness Center. When we finally found a spot we could stand without running the risk of spilling our beer, we were surrounded by all sorts. In front, we had an average suburban family (two parents about a 16 year old son and 13 year old daughter.) To the left, we had a couple of denim clad senior citizens. To the right, we had a couple of father/son hillbilly tandems, which I find to be a treat anywhere, not just a concert. The common link between them all may shock you. When Def Leppard was on with all the crazy lights and effects, these surrounding characters were the reason we enjoyed them. It was not because they were entertaining to people watch, it was because they were all openly smoking marijuana and we were able to get high on their second hand smoke. The two recent college grads did not have reefer, but the people one would least expect to have it, did.

Lastly, I found myself wondering “Could you even fathom what it must be like to be a member of one of those two bands?” One side of me says, “Man, that would be awesome to be able to go out and do a show every night while traveling the country. You can get laid every night, don’t need to ever have a real job, and you get to watch a crowd in front of you have an amazing time.” The other side says, “These guys are in their 50’s, which may sound like fun now, but 30 years from now how much fun can it really be. It would have to get old sooner or later, just like any other job.”

I am very curious to hear the thoughts on what the answer to the last question. Also, it is very easy to forget how many Journey songs have been ingrained into our heads. So many people probably know a ton of Journey and do not even know it. But on a side note, they put on a great show. Additionally, I saw Beer League last weekend, and if you live in the Cleveland, Philly or NYC area, check it out. It is a hysterical, edgy comedy. I was one of the like 15 people to see Old School theaters and brag about it before it took off on DVD. I can see Beer League paralleling that. I also need to come up with a Jerry Springer-esque tagline (Be good to yourself, and each other) to end all my columns, so I am taking requests.

In the last ten years, Tiger has redefined his sport. Just three years into his career, he became the greatest on the Tour. He was so dominant that no one could even compete. He won what is known as the “Tiger Slam” being the first person in seventy plus years to hold all four major titles at the same time. He was the number one player up until he showed signs of mortality in late 2004. But who can blame him, at the time he began to “struggle,” he had blew up and started from scratch with his already perfect swing just because he thought he could do better, the media began searching for his flaws rather than appreciate his talents, and he was in the whole marriage process (which any man can attest is a near impossible time to retain focus.) And yet he only lost the number one ranking for a few weeks before winning the Masters and rightfully regaining his title. After missing the cut at the US Open, people began to question again how good he really was. Well in the last few months, he has all but shut them up permanently, AGAIN separating himself from the other people on tour with one emphatic “I am so much better than you. You know it. Stop questioning it. It only hurts your feelings. I play down to help your self-esteems because I am a nice guy” statement.

Could you even fathom being that dominant in anything? I am a double major in accounting and finance. Could I be the best accountant where at anytime I could just humble my competition? Could I become the best investment advisor where I just crush the competition? Double C is a journalism major, could he outwrite everyone to the point their goal becomes second best? Could Jon Raddish become the premier nurse in the world until some only for some Fijian to steal his crown for a month only to spawn the type of ‘Roid rage that drives him with the same amount of force it took to send Greg Holmes flying into our apartment window to become the best nurse ever?

The gist is that this type of greatness cannot be attained in real life, only in golf. Or can it? It is necessary to recognize the mass amount of similarities between golf and real life. What separates Tiger Woods from the pack is his mental toughness. Any one can agree that the amount of mental toughness determines the successfulness of one’s life. Tiger is able to use his talents and mental toughness together to be the best at what he does. I believe that is the backbone of his success, and therefore, can be replicated by every one.

Obviously the talents would be different from Tiger, but everyone has some sort of talent. However, when people tell them they cannot have what they want, most are not mentally tough enough to pursue it anyway. Tiger grew up a black man in a white man’s game. He should be playing football, not golf. It was a mere forty years ago black people were not even looked at as close to smart enough for the game of golf. That was the ancient white man theory about golf. Golf, the game perfected by a black man.

In golf, if you hit a bad shot there are three routes you can take – get pissed off about it and have it affect your next shot; complain about the wind, bad bounce, something distracting you and attribute it to lack of luck; or you could approach your ball, focus, hit your next shot better realizing there is nothing you can do to replay the last shot.

If you hit a good shot, there are also three takes – become elated and proud about how good you are and you have just mastered the game, only to lose focus and shank your next shot; you could attribute it solely to luck; or you could approach your ball, focusing on hitting your next good shot.

Every shot makes up the round of golf. No one good or bad shot makes the round. Similarly, a day in our life is just a new round. Throughout any given day we will hit multiple bad shots and good shots. It is how you react to them that determine the outcome of the rest of your round. The successful people are the ones who are able to stay focused on the goal and just hit your shots. Golf, and life in my opinion, is a game that can never be won, only played. And seeing as how life is just a game, is there really any need to get bent out of shape over a few bad shots strung together, or get too high when you have a string of good shots. Learn from the bad shots. Appreciate the good ones. Have fun and enjoy the game of life…I mean golf.

My twenty second birthday arrived making me a year older, yet, I matured dramatically and realized I was way too irresponsible the last sixteen months – just like I was supposed to be. To refuse necessary change causes one to remain ignorant. The time has come to change, now I am officially pumped for the next chapter. The last three days have been somber, rainy, dreary, and cool. What a fitting way for the official start of the next chapter of my life now that so many of my cronies have returned to the path of higher education, while I, for the first time in seventeen years, only could continue on with my job.

And frankly, I love days like the ones we experienced the last few days for a number of reasons. These days occur on occasion in late August and September in northeast Ohio. Despite the negative rap NE Ohio receives, I love the various weather changes that occur because I attribute certain memories to different seasons. This particular time of year has the most memories for me and here is the list of 10 reasons/memories that I have enjoyed in my young twenty two years of life:

1) The defining moment that corrupted me and is the ultimate reason I am such a jackass while my brother is such a nice kid. Third grade, I get on a crowded bus and am looking for a seat. Lou Cirino says “Hey sit with me and Keith.” The end all of my niceness. I attribute him for me swearing and being a wild man. If I did not have a big brother, this alone would be best man worthy.

2) Be honest, by about late August, we all start to get sick and tired of what we are doing Whether it be hanging out with the same groups of friends, doing the same shit over and over (dinner and a movie, putt putt, going over the friends house with the pool, etc.), or a shitty summer job. I compare all of these things to Terrell Owens because they are all fun for a while but eventually wear out their welcome.

3) Getting to go back to high school. Sounds ridiculous I know. But I was always one of those people that school came easy to so it was never a burden. Plus I was what most would classify as an “asshole” or “cock” in school so teachers and classmates alike tended to hate me, which always led to an entertaining time. The only gripe I have was having to get up at 7:05 to get there by 7:18. Everyone is on good terms when they return to school this time of year. This will get old, that is for damn sure, but the first few months are a blast.

4) Friday Night Lights- Anyone who attended high school with me knows that I loved HS football games, especially senior year. Aaron Shumaker and myself were the only two to tailgate with our tiny grill before the first game senior year. However, our passion spread to others. On homecoming night, we cooked 100 hot dogs, 30 burgers, 4 steaks and 4 shish kabobs. We had everything from cowbells, five gallon buckets with drumsticks, horns, megaphones, bird whistles, etc. It was a blast. (To those of you thinking, “what fags.” First off, go fuck yourself. Second, my mom would not let me play football. Third, it really is a brilliant idea. Think about it, all the guys are on the field playing, with exception of like four of us and like 40 girls. I like the odds.)

5) I was actually a fan of Homecoming dances. I am a very superficial guy that likes people who dress well. Homecoming is a time when girls can take the step from the purgatory to the promised land. I am a big fan of the dress to impress, and this occasion calls for it. Plus I actually enjoy dressing up also. I feel a lot like Carson from Queer eye from the straight guy right now. The sooner I stop writing the more likely I am to feel straight again.

6) Buckeye Saturdays, and AJ Hawk and the corresponding festivities- no further definition needed. Plus it would not be fair to define since there is more to be added to this one in the not near enough future. For your information, Chris and I will be watching the OSU-Texas game together with our old college friends, and I plan on Chris having a Bill Simmonsesque running diary of the events. That column should be a doozy.

7) Going back to college- the things you can do in college do not exist in real life. Take a nap at any given time. Don’t go to class if you don’t feel like it. Stay up all night. Re-immerse yourself in video games and dvd watching. Clean slate for everyone where no one knows your past. More free time then ever imagined that we still find ways to waste it. Drinking any day of the week because, like I said, you don’t technically have to go class. I do suggest attendance policies to save you from yourself.

October Saturday Night. Ohio State Campus. Drinks consumed. Go to a party. Running the Keg. Go to take a piss. Random head from unnamed girl exactly one month after a break up. Yes you read that last one right. No further details your honor.

9) Dustan and I painting a W and U on our chest on one of the coldest nights of the year for a football game. Chris chronicled this experience which makes me in diary format also. I don’t remember a lot of it due to alcohol and cold.

10) The weather- The temperature is ideally cool, the sun is not bright, and the humidity is not so bad. For a fat kid like me this lessens the sweating profusely problem that summer creates for me. Additionally, one is blessed with numerous options: shorts or pants; long sleeves or short sleeves; tee shirt, sweater or hoodie; The combinations are endless, just like the possible combinations of Browns and Buckeyes TD combos this year (Troy Smith solo, Troy to Ted Ginn, Ginn Solo, Troy to Gonzo, Chris Wells, Tonio Pittman, JT making himself eligible and playing running back, Greg Oden to Daquean Cook on the deep ball, etc.)

I love this time of the year. I forgot to mention how beautiful it is to sleep in on a Saturday morning when it is dark outside all day long. That is soooo sexy. I have not been able to do that since before I started working at age 14, so I am pumped to get my sexy on here soon. Fire up Bucks.

On a side note, in regard to my whole “mature” thing, all bets are off on Buckeye Saturdays. It is just not fair. Look forward to bonging my first beer in almost a year Saturday at noon before golf before the Buckeyes kick Garrett Wolfe’s ass 1,000-0, and say we were just tuning up for next week, we will pull out all the stops then.