51 days off, and the rust is history
Right from the start.
Falling behind 21-7 to seven-point underdog Florida early in the second quarter, the Buckeyes looked creaky as tin men.
Heisman Trophy-winning quarterback Troy Smith looked like he needed about three quarts of Pennzoil and several squirts of WD-40 in his few moving parts.
Before Ohio State took possession with 1:47 to go until halftime, Smith was a dismal 3-for-8 passing for 30 yards and an interception. His rushing stats were horrendous: six carries for minus-14 yards.
Then his springs blew up completely.
Hit from behind by a Florida defender, Smith fumbled, and the Gators recovered at the Ohio State 5.
The disaster of the No. 1 team getting junked by the No. 2 team was nearly complete.
Too many rubber-chicken dinners and back pats to allow your brain to function properly.
Take away Ted Ginn Jr.'s 93-yard kickoff return to open the game, and Ohio State looked like, well, your typical Big Ten team playing against a speedy, innovative southern or western team in a big bowl game.
When Ginn left with a bad left ankle early in the first quarter, Ohio State looked like a pickup truck without its carburetor.
How many times have we seen this movie?
Call it the legacy of Woody Hayes and Bo Schembechler, the two chief historic architects of Big Ten coaching conservatism, men who were experts at dismantling the ''little eight'' in the conference by using vastly superior talent, but not so good at creativity. Not against other big guys.
Florida coach Urban Meyer utilized such a diverse and eclectic offense that it made Ohio State and Smith look like they were running something from the 1920s.
How smooth was it to see Florida's passing quarterback, Chris Leak, size up the Buckeyes' zone secondary and complete his first nine passes?
Then came running quarterback Tim Tebow smashing into the line several times, then stopping and tossing a one-yard touchdown pass to wide-open receiver Andre Caldwell for a 34-14 lead.
Florida shifted three receivers at once, from one side of the formation to the other.
They ran a reverse off an option.
A direct snap to speedy freshman wideout Percy Harvin.
Fancy, effective, disorienting stuff.
Ohio State ran a swell 1980s offense.
I'll bet 13-0 Boise State wishes it got a shot at the Buckeyes.
Hell, I know they do.
The Broncos could do Statue of Liberty plays and hook-and-ladders until the Buckeyes' doors fell off.
Besides this being a complete downer for the Midwest -- folks wanted Rose Bowl loser Michigan to play Ohio State for the national title? -- it showed the appeal of a wildly hyped, long-anticipated showdown for college supremacy.
Indeed, the Ohio State men's basketball team, with Greg Oden, could win the NCAA crown this spring.
Florida, meanwhile, won the Big Dance last year.
Perhaps it was inevitable.
Ohio State has the largest athletics budget in the nation -- $102 million for 36 sports.
Florida has a budget of only $72 million, but that's for 20 sports.
Ohio State's football program netted $28.5 million last year.
Florida cranked out an incredible $32.4 million profit.
To the rich go the riches.
''In all honesty, one of the most exploited groups of people are college athletes,'' he recently told USA Today. ''We basically have a job that generates millions and millions and millions of dollars. At the end of the day, we don't really see it. That's reality.''
You would expect astute logic from a philosophy major with a 4.0 GPA.
One thinks of the recent death of USC kicker Mario Danelo, or USC senior tackle Kyle Williams -- who was so humiliated by bloggers and fans ripping him for jumping offside in the regular-season-ending loss to UCLA that he quit the team for a spell -- to realize these young athletes are under extreme stress.
At Ohio State, after this debacle, the stress must be severe beyond reason.
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