Our Favorite Games from 2024: The Tallest Mountain in Ohio
The game wasn't competitive. It wasn't remotely close. Ohio State won 35-7 after 3 Emeka Egbuka TDs. Fans had already poured out of Ohio Stadium by the time Iowa put a damn point on the board, courtesy of a Kaleb Johnson 4th quarter garbage time run. Ohio State's offense was surprisingly sloppy in the first half. Iowa punted early and often, as they are wont to do. It was unseasonably hot for early October in the Midwest; the sun bore down on the assembled 100,000 from the 3:30 kickoff until the final whistle. I was sweating in places unknown and unventilated. My butt had gone from swampass to something far more oceanic. I was also fighting a brutal bout of dizziness from the immensely vertiginous stands at Ohio Stadium.
It was my favorite game of the year.
I wrote about this at the Other Place, but I've been dealing with POTS and concurrent agoraphobia for about two years now, which translates to: I get violently dizzy when I'm standing or walking for too long (or get hot and dehydrated) and I have an intermittent but intense panic response to being out of my element and in large crowds. I love football games, but they're not exactly the easiest thing for me anymore. But in this tribe of ours, we keep the pilgrimage regardless of the challenges. My wife, father-in-law, and I made the trip from Northern Virginia back to Ohio to check in with family and friends and most importantly, to watch Iowa lose.
The lead-up to the game was fairly sedate. We found an Ohio State DC Jim Knowles look-a-like in the shuttle to the game. (I remain convinced that it was him, despite all evidence and logic to the contrary.) We schlepped up the stairs at the south end zone for the express purpose of finding, of all things, a bacon vending machine. I was certain that there would be a crowd surrounding it, but it seems that the Ohio State faithful weren't as fascinated as we were. Thankfully the bacon was precooked, or else the Iowa fans would have probably contracted trichinosis.
The first half of the game was relatively quiet, if uneasy for the Ohio State fans. Iowa did what they do: 3 and out and punt, mostly. But the Buckeyes had a hell of a time getting things together. It's hard to remember now after the pure offensive explosion that they threw down in the postseason, but it took a while for Just For Men beard dye aficionado Ryan Day to figure out how to get all of that talent moving in the same direction.
By the end of the first quarter, we had been sweating from all possible places for far too long. We climbed down the incredibly steep stairs at the top of the stadium for a water break. Every time we went up or down those stadium flights, it was like hiking the fucking Everest. The vertigo from my POTS had ramped up and my balance felt like the Earth’s gravity had turned sideways. I never tripped or fell, but I did grab several random Buckeye fans' shoulders for support. But more importantly, I made sure to take the opportunity to boo the Iowa mascot. Birds shouldn't have teeth. You, Herky, are an abomination.
Safely in the shade of the Ohio Stadium concourse and nursing a large cold bottle of water, it finally happened. Touchdown, Emeka Egbuka. Egbuka would ultimately have 3 TDs on the day and I'm pretty sure that all three happened when I was getting more water (and beer). The game ended up being a blowout, a gentleman's shutout, really. Iowa finally scored in garbage time, well after many of the fans had left for cooler climates. As the game finished up, the sun finally, mercifully dropped over the edge of the west side of Ohio Stadium. We shuffled out, jubilant and smelly, albeit without a final trip to the bacon vending machine.
On the shuttle back to our parking lot, the entire bus was watching the Vanderbilt-Alabama game on their phones. Everyone was spellbound, enraptured with what might, could, maybe, perhaps occur. Vandy won, Diego Pavia became a legend, and those crazed future lawyers and doctors in Nashville happily chucked the goalposts into the Cumberland River.
Once the AC in our car kicked in and we had finally dropped our core temperatures to reasonably safe levels, my sheer adrenaline high finally dropped off. That day was my Rose Bowl and I had made it through to the finish. I had walked further than any other day since my diagnosis. And Iowa lost. It was a damn good day.
