Buckeyes on the Bayou: One Alum’s Account of the Sugar Bowl

For years, “attending a bowl game” sat idly on my sports bucket list. This year when the Ohio State Buckeyes earned the final spot in the inaugural College Football Playoff my family jumped at the chance to see the Buckeyes play Alabama in the Sugar Bowl. The fact that we could enjoy New Year’s Eve at New Orleans’ infamous Bourbon Street was just a bonus.

The Superdome doors opened at 5:30 p.m. and we crossed the portal by 5:31. For all its faults, the ‘dome is a breathtaking building. The sightlines are true and the ceiling stretches up for three-quarters of a mile before arriving in a obscenely large Mercedes-Benz logo. Our seats were sandwiched between the band to our left and the student section to our right. All the Ohio State fans we saw had the same look of a kid on Christmas morning who not only got a puppy but it was also in the basket of a new bicycle. My mantra was simple, “We’re here.” My family was here. The band was here. After an incredible season the Buckeyes were in the playoff, and I would see it live.

Kickoff approached and as the seats filled the anticipation began to boil over. We alternated cheers and boos as the Buckeyes then Crimson Tide took the field. My impression of Alabama fans: they are a lot like Ohio State fans. They are loud, they are present, they are legion. One could easily discern their pom-poms in the crowd, and they would not hesitate to let you know how the Tide would ambulate that day (hint: rhymes with “poll”). Alabama’s faithful seemed comparably calmer than us but maybe that’s the three championships in five years talking. It may be a southern habit, but most ‘Bama fans did not wear football jerseys; they favored a semiformal look (sport coats for the gentlemen, skirts for the ladies) that was partially undercut by the baseball cap many of them wore with the ubiquitous script “A.”

As the Buckeyes kicked off the whole world seemed to shout “O-H-I-O Rip his f— head off!” The defense held, and Ohio State gained possession. The crowd noise on that first drive was the loudest man-made sound I have ever heard. Every yard we gained was another decibel. Logic would say that when your team has the ball you should maintain a reverent silence so the offensive line can hear audibles or adjustments. That logic was absent as Buckeye Nation screamed themselves hoarse three minutes into the game. Waves of noise serenaded a Sean Nuerenberger field goal as the Buckeyes took a 3-0 lead.

Fast forward to the second quarter. Alabama leads 21-6. Ohio State has committed two painful turnovers that have almost immediately been exchanged for touchdowns. Alabama does not look unstoppable on either side of the ball, but the Buckeyes don’t seem ready for the moment. While no one in our section panicked, we did share some concerned glances. We felt like the kid who snuck into prom at a school he didn’t attend, and the principal was giving him the eye. An Ezekiel Elliott touchdown raised our spirits. Right before the half Urban turned to the last page of the playbook and dialed up the Jones-to-Spencer-to-Thomas touchdown pass that brought the score the 21-20. We could not believe the collective guts it took to call such a backyard play with time running out, but you cannot argue with the results.

Halftime brought a slightly unexpected sensation: Vindication. We are supposed to be here. Everyone in line for the men’s room had the same steely resolve: We can do this. I’m almost positive they meant win the game and not use the facilities, but either one works for the example.

While the first half seemed to take ages, the third quarter sped along. Ohio State scored promptly on a long pass to Devin Smith to reclaim a 27-21 lead. A touchdown for each side brought the scoreboard to 34-28 favoring Ohio State. We were dreaming of Dallas as the Buckeyes gained possession deep in their own territory in the fourth quarter.

It was all going horribly wrong. Ohio State was backed up in front of their own end zone, but for some reason offensive coordinator Tom Herman showed no interest in running plays. The combination of incompletions and penalties meant the Buckeyes needed to punt from deep in their own end zone. Australian punter Cameron Johnston, he of the elaborate kicking motion and powerful leg, had his worst punt of the year sending the ball 21 yards. Alabama would start on the OSU 23-yard line. The section began to worry. The distinct sound of a shoe succumbing to gravity could be heard. Blake Sims went for the go-ahead score, but was intercepted by Vonn Bell. I should note that Urban Meyer and Nick Saban both fiercely recruited Bell when he was in high school. No doubt Urban thought of that as well.

The Buckeyes led by six, but it felt like one. Herman had seemingly recovered from his stupor, and began to regularly call Elliott’s number. The seconds performed their terrible dance…Five minutes…Four minutes. Then suddenly there goes Elliot! As he approached the line of scrimmage a hole opened on the left side as if Moses had parted the Crimson Sea. Zeke ran full tilt to open field, straight at our corner of the stadium. Bedlam in the Bayou. Everyone began jumping, screaming, imploring him to keep running. There was one Alabama player on his heels, but Elliot’s “Big Ten Speed” allowed him to race untouched to the end zone. Our section was the opposite of silence. We were convinced that was the dagger, that we were going to the ‘ship. 42-28 Buckeyes led.

After a ruthlessly efficient drive, Alabama cut the lead to seven. When Ohio State recovered the onside kick with 1:59 to go, everyone knew that all we had to do was get a first down and the game would be sealed. Sure the Tide have two timeouts, but all we need to do is feed Elliott and we should be fi—oh my, why is Jones dropping back to pass?! Inexplicably Meyer decides to go for the throat with a deep bomb on first down. It falls incomplete. We looked at each other incredulously. No one could believe that the Buckeyes had thrown in that situation. Two short runs and a punt later Alabama regains possession at their own 18. Ninety-three seconds to go.

There’s a palpable anxiety in our section, and it does not abate as Sims begins marching the Tide downfield. We scream without voices and implore the defense to hold firm for one more play. With eight seconds to go Sims lifts up the last prayer of the Alabama congregation. Tyvis Powell, a vengeful god, denies them. Powell intercepts the final pass and Deion Sanders himself to the 29-yard line before sliding down in jubilation. From our vantage it took a moment to realize we had in fact won, but once that truth became known we were bliss embodied . The team rushed the field while the students, band, and fans hooted and hollered and screamed for their beloved Buckeyes. The OSU students chanted “S-E-C! S-E-C!” just to twist the knife. Final score: Ohio State 42, Alabama 35.

The Crimson Tide faithful quickly located the exits, but we in Scarlet and Gray lingered to see our brethren lift trophies and give speeches. Ohio State, a team that many felt was unworthy of the stage, won the day and upset a powerhouse Alabama team. A redshirt freshman cornerback bested a Heisman Trophy finalist. A sophomore in a midriff ran all over a formerly unflinching defense. Now Buckeye Nation’s attention turns to Oregon and the chance to add another year to the northeast corner of Ohio Stadium. I cannot imagine the energy at that game, but if it’s anything like what I experienced in New Orleans, the Buckeyes will have a fighting chance.