FAN SUPPORT Buckeye football fever burns bright in Columbus

Ohio State's football team is on a mountaintop awash in hype and hope.
By JEFF MILLER
KNIGHT RIDDER NEWSPAPERS
COLUMBUS -- The cars have stopped burning. The couches, too. The closest thing to smoke around here now comes when you open your mouth and you see your breath.
But Buckeye Fever? Oh, it's blazing, crackling like the cash registers at Long's Book Store, as alive as the party at the Buckeye Hall of Fame Cafe, where you can find one of Archie Griffin's shoes, one of Jack Nicklaus' bags and one of John Havlicek's hands. OK, not his actual hand but a sculpture of it.
Thirty-four years have passed since the Buckeyes won a national championship in football. Twelve months have passed since the University of Miami did so.
While the Hurricanes quietly prepare for the Fiesta Bowl, businesslike and routine, tucked between news of the Dolphins and Pat Riley and the Dolphins again, Ohio State prepares on a mountaintop awash in hype and hope.
This difference is as obvious as the one between friendly Columbus, a college town, and fidgeting Miami, a city with a school.
There is something endearing about a place not afraid to group hug, particularly coming from a place more likely to group mug.
Warm delight
As Hurricanes fans continue to claim a lack of respect and attention, noting all the individual awards their players didn't win, Buckeyes boosters are still pinching themselves -- and everyone else within reach -- delighting in the warmth naturally produced when several gather as one.
"Compared to the media frenzy, the fans are much worse," senior flanker Chris Vance says. "The atmosphere here is ridiculous. I thought Michigan week was bad. Miami month has been worse."
So tailback sensation Maurice Clarett is badgered when he tries to shop for Christmas.
So they've already produced two books, a video and a DVD on this still-incomplete season.
So one Ohio State fan e-mails The (Miami) Herald last week with a correction: "We didn't burn those two cars because of the Fiesta Bowl, we burned them because we beat Michigan."
These people aren't like you in Miami, see. They didn't just expect their school to play for a national title. Not most seasons, especially this one. Even the Buckeyes admit this is a surprise.
Stunning reversal
They lost the Outback Bowl the past two years, you know. The season before that, they failed to even make a bowl.
Ohio State has spun all this into talk of destiny, claims of a mystical guided fortune around the No. 13 -- as in Clarett's jersey, the 13-0 record and the team's preseason ranking. No wonder the program just now is losing its lightheadedness.
"Before we started practicing again, it was like a dream," sophomore defensive end Simon Fraser says. "Now we're watching film and it's like, 'Wow, we're going to Tempe. This is really going to happen.' This whole season has been a blessing for us, the players, the coaches, the school, the whole city."
Buckeyes pride here is as thick as Buckeyes passion. This is evident in the whole The Ohio State University thing. That's the way you're supposed to say the school's name. If you drop the "The," that only shows you don't understand the pride or passion at all.
There are 113 years of football at this university, and three-plus decades of not winning a national title fit as well as a second left cleat.
To understand how long it has been, consider that the trophy Ohio State won from the football writers for that 1968 championship is smaller than the one this team won for beating Texas Tech in August in the Pigskin Classic.
The NHL exists here as the Blue Jackets. There also is Triple A baseball and Major League Soccer.
But the Buckeyes seem to be the only thing that matters, a sentiment expressed recently when someone visited Hayes' grave and left a bag of Tostitos. Perhaps this was an attempt to bridge past greatness with potential greatness. Or maybe it was just the latest example of how everyone here wants to embrace this opportunity -- dead or alive.
In Miami, if the Hurricanes losetonight, the question will be: How the heck did we not do this? They are 13-point favorites and are supposed to win, a prediction that basically covers their entire season -- their entire past two seasons, actually.
New expectations
At Ohio State, there were few expectations, until now. A year of reserved hopes is reaching a crescendo of great, historical anticipation.
They have torn down goal posts, danced in the streets and bought everything stamped with the words "Fiesta Bowl." They are enjoying a love-fest that, particularly of note this time of year, is free of any Sanity Clause.
"It's weird to see people getting this carried away about a football game," Clarett said. "I didn't know how huge this is, but I'm starting to realize it. People are stopping me to sign this and that or take my picture. You want to help the kids, but you also want to be like any other 19-year-old. I guess you gotta be political with everything. I think it's funny. It's entertaining."
It's also refreshing, reassuring and wonderful.
And so un-Miami.