Redemption for OSU: Pryor plays like a QB

He mentioned his teammates first. In his postgame interview Friday night, he took pains to recognize the big men who blocked in front of him. He thanked them; he praised them. He gave those big men their due.

"It's crazy how well they did," Terrelle Pryor said in the afterglow of the Rose Bowl.

Sharing the praise, Pryor?

Maybe, at last, the manchild has grown up. He can now see success as not just about him, even though most people's eyes and the media attention still tend to focus solely on him.

But such notoriety comes with the territory.

Read more ...

Justice is served: 3 up and 3 down ...

THREE UP …

1. No one expected the Red Sox to remain idle this offseason, and the Sox didn’t. Looking up at the Yankees, the Red Sox needed to fortify their rotation, so they went out and signed free agent John Lackey. With Lackey, Jon Lester and Josh Beckett, the Red Sox have the strongest one-two-three punch in baseball.

2. What am I missing here? Everywhere I hear people talk about history and the importance of the Colts and the Saints going 16-0. But the only history worth making will come in February. Win the Super Bowl, and that’s the history that matters. Nothing else does.

3. Jake, Jake, Jake! Can you believe Washington quarterback Jake Locker, a surefire No. 1 pick, decided to stay in college instead of going into the NFL draft and collecting millions? Locker will hear people second-guess his decision, but he realized what others didn’t: He’s having a ball in college, so why give it up just yet?

THREE DOWN …

1. Call it the Tiger Woods effect, but advertising experts are wondering aloud if companies will ever again pour millions into having a celebrity’s name on their products. Image is everything; it always has been. A tarnished image has little value to marketers and corporate giants. A good-guy image can unravel quickly when infidelity, thuggish behavior or drug abuse attaches itself to an athlete’s persona.

Read more ...

Bowden era: Did it have to end like this?

I needed a full day to sift through the mixed feelings I had about what happened Monday to Florida State coach Bobby Bowden. In my lifetime, few coaches have been as tied to a football program as Bowden had been to Florida State.

Say Florida State, and the person whose face stood as a symbol of that great institution was his. For Bowden, a man with 388 wins on his coaching resume, was to Florida State what Joe Paterno is to Penn State, to what Bear Bryant was to Alabama and to what Woody Hayes was to Ohio State.

And as an OSU alum, I understood well what a man like Bowden meant. I also knew that his 34-year marriage wasn't intended to last forever -- a point JoePa might want to keep fresh in his mind. For living legends do have a shelf-life, and it's a lot shorter than they might like.

Still, it's never easy for a legend to bid adieu. I remembered how hard it was from my undergraduate years at Ohio State, because I mourned its decision to fire Hayes.

In hindsight, its decision was the right one.

But men like Hayes and Bowden -- and, yes, Paterno -- deserve more than a parting gift and a brick building on campus with their name on it. What made Hayes and Bowden so special was what became their undoing: a stubborn refusal to change or to quit.

They'd rather jump into a tar pit naked before stepping down, and in Bowden's coach, FSU officials realized as much.

To their credit, they did give Bowden a choice. Yet was it more a Hobson's choice than anything else: quit or they'd fire him.

Read more ...

Ginn Jr. puts his name back in spotlight

The name “Ginn” might be as popular to sports fans on the East Side of Cleveland as any last name since “Brown” – as in Jim Brown.

Unlike the name Brown, the last name Ginn has nothing to do with the Cleveland Browns. The prestige the name carries comes from great high school football. The name is stamped everywhere on perhaps the most successful all-black football program in the Midwest.

The program at Glenville High is the handiwork of one man, a man who played football for the school in the early 1970s. His name is Ted Ginn Sr., and his coaching and mentoring have sent a stream of black players to elite college programs like Ohio State and Michigan.

Coach Ginn has a fistful of talented teens headed to major colleges from his current Tarblooders, a team that’s a legitimate contender for the state title in Ohio’s big school division. You can’t talk about high-school football on this side of the city without hearing Ginn’s name.

What Ginn has done with the Tarblooders is a miracle – if it isn’t, it’ll serve as one until an according-to-Hoyle miracle comes along. He has made a name for himself – and for his football program.

No telling how much bigger his name might be if his most famous alum were to live up to his potential. His name is Ted Ginn, too. He has “junior” at the end of his, and he was the most talented player to ever come out of the Cleveland Public Schools.

Some people might argue that Troy Smith was better. They would be right if they were talking about what Smith did after Glenville. He won the Heisman Trophy at Ohio State in 2007, and he’s earning a living as a backup QB in the NFL.

In high school, Smith was no Ginn. Few in the country were. He was the most electric player this region had ever seen, and his play at Ohio State, where he teamed with Smith, was every bit as high voltage as what he had done in high school.

Ted Ginn Jr. was expected to take that same star power to the pros. He was, after all, No. 1 draft pick. He would do more for the Ginn last name, people said, than have it be remembered for the charter school Ginn Sr. founded. Ginn Academy is a wonderful legacy, but it can never bring the last name the universal fame that comes from starring in the NFL.

Three years into his pro career, Ginn Jr., a fleet wide receiver and kick returner, is far from an NFL star; he has been, as one Dolphins legend has put it, an "embarrassment." He’s been a much maligned talent in Miami – gifted player unable to live up to his pedigree.

His critics have called him soft and undisciplined, likely to drop a pass than catch it. They are right. His contributions to the Dolphins have been so minimal that a person would be hard-put to find his name when combing through game statistics.

He looked as if he was just another in a long line of No. 1 disappointments – until Sunday.

In a 30-25 win over the Jets, Ted Ginn Jr. played like Ted Ginn Jr. was always supposed to play. He returned pair of kickoffs for touchdowns, a feat that earned Ginn more attention in one day than he had gotten in his entire NFL career.

People were talking about Ginn Jr., talking about him the way they talked about him in high school and in college. Ginn Jr., 24, was a highlight on SportsCenter, drawing what he hadn’t been able to: praise.

Glenville alums noticed. His day in the spotlight was where most of them thought he should have been all along. They believed the Ginn name had magic attached to it.

It does, no matter what Ted Ginn Jr. does in Miami. He can never get away from that last name here.

His father’s success will assure that. For Ted Ginn Sr. continues to roll out talent at Glenville, talent that owes its development to a 50-something man whose son tries to carry their last name beyond this city’s East Side.

UM alums: Please stop your blame game

The lunatics have been unloosed across Michigan, which is a wonderful place for them to squat. They fit in nicely among the self-righteous, pretentious men and women who call themselves UM alumni.

Yet even these loonies and alums have reached a nadir when they label solid journalism as muckraking and partisan. They seem to be searching for any excuse they can grasp to deflect attention from an athletic program that has its troubles.

Now, I would be among the last people to call Michigan a "renegade" program. While I have little affinity for the Wolverines – how could I? I’m an Ohio State alumnus – I won’t chuck stones just to chuck 'em. I will say, however, Michigan might have issues today that undermine its holier-than-thou reputation. The journalistic evidence points in that direction.

A lot of the recent evidence comes from the reporting of Jim Schaefer, a man who I befriended while picking up my master’s at Ohio State two decades ago. Like me, Jim bleeds Scarlet and Gray. Unlike me, a sportswriter, Jim has his journalistic principles intact.

In Jim’s world, right trumps partisanship, a comforting thought to hear. He would no more let his affinity for the Buckeyes guide his journalism than I would bungee jump or go deep-sea diving.

Just call me chicken, ‘cause I’m no risk-taker.

Yet here Jim is, having his journalism questioned. No matter that the man has a Pulitzer Prize displayed on his mantel. Forgot about the fact that Jim’s reportial skills took down a corrupt mayor and has sent drug dealers, rapists and stone-cold killers to prison during his two decades in the Detroit media.

None of that meant anything – not to the Michigan loonies, those mindless acolytes who would disgrace their lineage and lie before doing or saying anything that would sully the football program’s reputation, a friend of mine who follows Michigan told me.

He pointed out that the pro-Michigan lobby accused Jim Schaefer and The Free Press of going “above and beyond” to publish negative stories about coach Rich Rodriguez and Michigan football.

Filling the blogosphere with foolishness, the pro-Michigan lobby has alleged that even Lloyd Carr, the former UM coach who was booted on his behind in favor of Rodriguez, has put his Michigan bona fides at risk to help undo the program.

But the Michigan lobby’s most outlandish allegation – if rumors of Carr’s contribution to the stories about Rodriguez’s alleged wrongdoings aren’t outrageous enough – is that Schaefer is investigating Michigan to keep the program from returning to its past glory.

Keep in mind that the journalists behind the initial stories on Rodriguez and the football program were Michigan alums, and what role Schaefer and anybody else at The Free Press have played is to complement what has developed into an intriguing piece of probing journalism.

It would be naïve for people to believe the problems at Michigan are unique to Michigan. I doubt any of the football powerhouses have athletic programs that couldn’t use a steamy bath in Clorex to cleanse things.

But it’s Michigan, not Ohio State or Oklahoma or Florida, that’s under NCAA scrutiny, and the sooner the Wolverine faithful set their program straight the sooner the stories will be about what happens inside the Big House on Saturdays and not on what happens off the football field the rest of the week.

Until that happens, Schaefer, Mike Rosenberg and other journalists will be pouring their investigative energies into stories that might make life a little uncomfortable in Maize and Blue country. They do what they do not because they dislike Michigan; they do it because it is their job: They right wrongs.

Best in Ohio? Title belongs to Bearcats

For weeks now, a friend of mine has argued that the title of best college football team in Ohio didn’t belong to the Ohio State Buckeyes anymore.

I disagreed.

I was quick to remind him that the Buckeyes were the gold standard, and for him not to acknowledge that fact would be as pointless as arguing who’s richer: Bill Gates or Warren Buffett. Gates is, of course. But does it really matter when your net worth has 10 zeroes in it? The Buckeyes have been Bill Gates in Ohio college football, and no team has been his Buffett until now. They have their rival – no, they look to have their better in the University of Cincinnati. That’s the point my friend has been making – loudly, too. But it is impossible to say he’s wrong after watching the Buckeyes lose to Purdue and the Bearcats beat South Florida last week. Whatever claim Ohio State might have held to being the state’s best college football team disappeared after a dismal performance against a 1-5 team. The Buckeyes didn’t just lose to a bad football team in Purdue; they were embarrassed by that bad football team. That loss cost coach Jim Tressel and his Buckeyes whatever bragging rights they had left inside a state deep in talent. They might not be able anymore to cherry-pick that talent as they have been able to do for the better part of a half century. That talent has another in-state option, and the 'Cats are it. Out of scraps, UC coach Brian Kelly cobbled a team that finds itself No. 5 in the AP and BCS polls, 14 spots ahead of the Buckeyes. And the way this season has gone, they will be out of the top 25 before the Bearcats lose a game. In a stunning turnaround in fortunes, the 'Cats are the Ohio team that's the talk of college football, not Ohio State; they are the team that’s angling for a National Championship. All the Buckeyes will be playing for is the Big Ten title, and even their prospects of being in contention for it are slim. Does anybody expect a football team with a technique-challenged quarterback, a porous offensive line and no running game to win anything but a trip to a lesser bowl game? The Motor City Bowl might have Ohio State in its sights. No Fiesta Bowl, no Sugar Bowl, no Orange, no Rose Bowl … heck, no EagleBank Bowl either it would seem. Should the Buckeyes beat the odds and win the Big Ten, they have given no indication that they can beat anybody decent in a conference outside the Mid-American or the Big West. They are a full recruiting cycle away from being a quality program. Their close call against Navy and their loss to Purdue prove that point. In contrast, the Bearcats have shown the makings of a Division I program with grand expectations now and a bright future. They have a coach in Kelly who has shown what Tressel hasn’t: a knack for competing against anybody. Kelly’s Bearcats look like a more polished program. They seem better coached, and they have speed and creativity. Best of all, they have a quality quarterback in Tony Pike, although he's nursing an injury. Ask any college coach in the country who would he take today: Pike or Terrelle Pryor? All would say Pike. Ask any college coach in the country what team he would least like to play this weekend: UC or OSU? All would say UC. Grudgingly, so would I.

Pryor's a long way from a big-time QB

"Athletes” like Terrelle Pryor carry a truckload of expectations with them when they commit to a Division I program.

While their athleticism might go unchallenged, it alone doesn’t ensure they will master the nuances of playing the most demanding position in college football.

After his performance Saturday against Purdue, the athletic Pryor proved two things: No. 1, he isn't improving much; and, No. 2, he isn't ready to quarterback the Buckeyes with the precision and the polish the program needs.

Now, the criticism here isn’t altogether based on the fact the No. 7 Buckeyes lost, 26-18, to an ordinary Purdue team. A week earlier, they won, and the criticism was the same. For in that game, Pryor played as badly as any quarterback could play and still come away with win.

But that performance was against Wisconsin, an unbeaten, though untested team with aspirations of winning a Big Ten title.

Purdue, of course, had no such title hopes tucked away in its locker room. The Boilermakers had been leaking losses, and their 1-5 record suggested they would be fortunate to escape with all hands healthy.

Their record did reflect the quality of the team. What their record didn’t illustrate was how having a capable quarterback like Joey Elliott can keep a game close. He was no Tim Tebow or Sam Bradford; Elliott didn’t have to be. All he needed to be was the best quarterback on the field.

And he was.

That’s the damnable part of it. For Elliott didn’t have the much-hyped credentials of quarterbacks like Pryor, USC freshman Matt Barkley or Notre Dame junior Jimmy Clausen.

Hype can be a player’s undoing. It can lead to inflated expectations that no athlete can live up to, and maybe that’s the problem with Terrelle Pryor: He’s a prisoner of this hype.

In two seasons, he’s developed little. He’s a mechanical passer who locks in on a receiver. He has the touch of a blacksmith, chucking dink-and-dunk passes with helter-skelter accuracy all over the landscape. His pocket presence and awkward footwork resemble a passer who’s in the lineup for his second or third game.

At some point – and that point looks as if it has arrived -- coach Jim Tressel must reevaluate what he has in the underwhelming Pryor, a sophomore. It could be that Tressel entrusted his offense to Pryor too soon. Maybe, just maybe, Pryor’s athleticism works best for Ohio State at a wide receiver and not at quarterback.

For Tressel, a conclusion like the latter might be unthinkable. Dare he bench Pryor? How can he? Ohio State coaches chased Pryor with a dogged determination not used on very many football recruits. It made sense that Tressel go all out to land Pryor, the darling of elite programs from coast to coast.

Could the coach really risk seeing Pryor sign with Michigan?

Two years later, Tressel and the Buckeyes might be better for it had they let Pryor go to Michigan or somewhere else. He has done nothing to show people that he’s capable of greatness. He has shown only mediocrity, which is what frustrates Buckeyes fans.

They longed to see a quarterback who could win championships, a quarterback who could create magic with his legs and with his arms. Buckeyes fans thought they had that magical quarterback in Terrelle Pryor.

They thought wrong.

Pryor's arm holds all the hope for OSU titles

You can’t be a Buckeyes fan without walking around with expectations as grand as that canyon in Arizona, even while they're staring at a mountain of evidence to the contrary. For what do people who shed Scarlet and Gray tears expect this season -- a National Championship?

That is, of course, what the faithful expect; it is always so at Ohio State.

They share the same inflated dreams as men and women who root for Florida, Southern Cal, Texas, LSU or any of the other college football powerhouses. It’s BSC title or bust, which explains why OSU fans -- and even sportscasters -- are so hard on Terrelle Pryor.

They’ve forgotten, however, Pryor is a sophomore, simply a gifted underclassman who has plenty to learn about playing quarterback. No one claims he isn’t an extraordinary talent, but no one sees him as a finished product either. His play, thus far, has been typical of an inexperienced player: as many lows as highs.

In a win over unbeaten Wisconsin, Pryor had plenty of lows last Saturday. His play was hardly a performance for the video archives, except for critics to examine in the years ahead if he doesn’t show progress.

His progress has been agonizingly slow, making all the lofty talk about how good Pryor was going to be sound like the talk that surrounded Justin Zwick when he came into the program earlier this decade. It’s difficult to point out what Zwick did during four seasons at Ohio State, aside from retarding the progress of Troy Smith.

Expectations can be funny things, because they can keep coaches from using their best judgment. Coach Jim Tressel used poor judgment in sticking with Zwick too long. Is it possible Tressel’s doing the same with Pryor? It’s not as if Tressell has another Troy Smith tucked away on the bench. Buckeyes fans could use one, though.

They can’t entertain the thought of a National Championship until their Buckeyes, who play Purdue this afternoon, learn to use the forward pass as more than a tease. They can't think of winning the Big Ten either unless Pryor learns to throw. His legs do dazzle, turning routine plays into SportsCenter highlights. But his arm is what will cement his greatness, if greatness is achievable in a program that can shackle it.

For the road to greatness comes littered with risk, and Tressel isn’t a coach who tolerates risky play. Because he doesn’t, he keeps Pryor from achieving what his potential says he should achieve. He should be showing many of the football traits Tim Tebow displayed at Florida as a sophomore.

Watching Pryor, you see nothing in his play that resembles Tebow's. Is Pryor the offensive threat Tebow was a sophomore? Is Pryor as good now as Tebow was as a freshman?

That’s what troubles Buckeyes fans, because most think the answer to the latter is “no.” They keep waiting for Pryor's breakout performance, the game that will start to define what Pryor can be. He needs to be more than he is now if the Buckeyes are to make this season or the next one hold hopes of a National Championship.

I don’t think the planets aligned for that title this season. Not just because of Pryor, but because the Buckeyes have too many loose pieces to firm up for me to believe they are contenders for anything more than a Big Ten title.

Not even that title is thinkable without better play from Pryor. For he won’t be able to count each week on the OSU defense, as it did against Wisconsin, scoring touchdowns against Penn State, Iowa or even Michigan.

He’ll have to make plays – and make those plays with his arm. With a dozen or so starts on his OSU resume, Pryor has given no indication he can. His mediocrity makes me wonder whether Buckeyes fans should temper their expectations for now till Pryor proves he can win a game with his arm.

(Photo of crowd outside Ohio Stadium by Brent Veverka)

Browns fans never warm to Braylon's drama

Braylon Edwards came to Cleveland in 2005 totting more baggage than a Pullman porter. He was a Michigan man, and Michigan men don't receive the warmest of receptions in what is Ohio State country.

Yet Browns fans aren't so closed-minded as not to give a Michigan man like Edwards a chance to prove his mettle, even if doing so might offend the late Woody Hayes. For they wouldn't care if the man came straight from the netherworld if he could throw, catch or tackle.

It didn't take long to discover that Edwards, a No. 1 draft choice, couldn't do any of these at an elite level.

He never blossomed into the football star people hoped he would become. While his talk was big and bold and brash, his play was small and inconsistent, which is to be expected from somebody who once suited up for the Maize and Blue.

Sorry if my partisanship got the better of me. It's just that my Scarlet and Gray roots don't allow me to be as forgiving as most people when judging a player from the University of Michigan. To satisfy me, Edwards would have needed to be the second coming of Jerry Rice (or Cris Carter). By the end, Edwards proved he was the second coming of Jerry Lewis, a comical joke of a football player who didn't play to his skill set.

His athleticism wasn't an issue, because Edwards was tall and lean and swift. He moved with the swift grace of a Broadway dancer, but he was soft as a goosedown pillow. Throw a ball over the middle and Edwards was more likely to duck than stretch his arms to catch it. And ask him to make a big catch late, and he'd be missing in action.

What doomed him in Cleveland, however, was his appetite for the nightlife.

He loved the fame; he craved it more than he wanted the team to succeed. Mention his name to people who know him, and they claimed he envied the adulation the fans here lavished on LeBron James. Edwards never understood it, much the way that Kellen Winslow Jr. never understood it or this market.

Envy can be a toxic emotion, because it debases a man. It forces him to do things he wouldn't normally do. Fine, perhaps if he's a person who lives his life outside the limelight. But when he's a public personality, he can't afford to let envy push him to behavior that speaks poorly of the community and the team he represents.

Edwards might find punching people in the face acceptable in Ann Arbor; he would never find it acceptable in Cleveland (or in other the NFL cities). Here, they expect more from their "stars," although they've found their expectations unfulfilled since their beloved Browns returned to town a decade ago.

Through those dark years, their fans have wanted a reason to cheer for anybody who could play worth a darn. They longed for Edwards to be that player, so they gave him as fair a shake as he could expect. In return, he did nothing to deserve their cheers. He disappointed fans at every turn.

His last disappointment cost him his career as a Cleveland Brown, though I doubt Edwards will lose one night's sleep thinking about it. He will wake up tomorrow prepared to go to another workout with the New York Jets. He will be just another player coach Eric Mangini has shipped to his former team. None of the others have been missed, and neither will a prima donna like Braylon Edwards.

The decision to trade him shouldn't cause a ripple in Cleveland. Good riddance, fans say. They already know that the 2009 season is sinking like the Titanic, and their Browns can finish last without the underachieving Edwards in the lineup. The team is playing for next season and a high-draft choice, a familiar theme in Cleveland where most pro teams are playing for things other than championships.

How the players who are coming to the Browns in the Edwards trade will help isn't something I want to speculate about. None are stars; mostly they are just loose pieces to plug small leaks here and there. They aren't long-term acquisitions of importance.

Obviously, nobody wants to hear talk about next season with this season still fresh. Harsh reality might be tough to deal with in October, but how does late season failure help energize fans? They know the score as well as Mangini does.

He didn't inherit much when he arrived, and he hasn't added much talent since. Mangini has figured out, regardless of what Edwards does for the Jets, the Browns are better off without Edwards than with him.

I agree.

'Fire' Tressel? Have OSU fans gone crazy?

He used to be icon, a sports god of sorts. Coach Jim Tressel could have run for Ohio governor and won handily as a write-in candidate. But the only time people use the word "run" with Tressel's name now is when they cry about wanting to run the man out of town.

They want to fire Tressel for losing too many big games.

Well, what must the talk be like among Southern Cal alumni these days after coach Pete Carroll lost another game Saturday to an unranked opponent?

For college football fans, I have a bit of advice for you: relax, no college coach is going to beat everybody; a football program like the Washington Huskies is also ready to spring an upset.

Going through a football season is a minefield, as Tressel and Carroll know well. Each weekend holds the prospect for a good team to end up on the wrong side of the score. Last Saturday was Carroll’s team’s turn. But other coaches will follow suit as the '09 season rolls on.

That’s the lesson for feckless Buckeye fans to learn. They aren’t satisfied with a coach who has made everybody who bleeds Scarlet and Gray forget the John Cooper era.

Now, let me confess straightaway: I was never keen on my alma mater’s decision to hire Tressel in the first place. I didn’t think a coach from a football program like Youngstown State had proved he was capable of stepping up to the Major Leagues, because the demands at an elite Division I program like Ohio State trumped whatever challenges Tressel faced at YSU.

But Jim Tressel understood Ohio State football, a fact he made plain on the day his hiring was announced. He talked boldly about righting the many mistakes of Cooper, who never grasped the importance of beating Michigan. Tressel revived what had been a one-sided rivalry, and his success at defeating the Wolverines hastened coach Lloyd Carr’s departure.

Year after year, he’s brought that victory home, which is far more important to OSU football than losses to the Trojans.

I learned years ago that fans – and my fellow OSU alums -- are fickle. For them, it’s all about what a coach like Tressel has done for them lately. Even then, no coach can win enough to satisfy a certain segment of Buckeyes fans; not even the late Woody Hayes could do that.

Ask Trojans fans or people who follow Oklahoma about losing. They know it, too. Coach Bob Stoops has a championship ring and a fistful of Top 10 finishes; he also has a loss to Boise State in a bowl game and to Brigham Young this season. Has Stoops won enough in Norman to satisfy OU fans?

A few days before the Toledo game, I listened as Tressel fielded questions about the USC loss. On his weekly radio show, he faced criticism from the faithful; he felt the anger and frustration of men who measure their manhood on how well their alma mater does. They seemed to want Tressel to commit self-flagellation on the airwaves. He didn’t.

While he acknowledged their disappointment, Tressel never let their feelings define him or his football program. He came across as man self-assured about the direction his team is headed. He put the focus on his football tomorrows and not on his football yesterdays.

Too bad so many Ohio State alumni can't do likewise, which is a pity. But they need to remind themselves that Tressel has done more good than bad with his program.

He has one NCAA championship, the same number as Les Miles and Stoops have. Tressel's total is one more than Cooper and Earle Bruce combined were able to win and one more than any other coach in the Big Ten, not named Joe Paterno, can boast of.

Shouldn’t that appease people awhile?

Pryor restraint: OSU falls apart – again

It wasn’t the death march to the gallows – not the slow, measured trek to a public execution -- that so many had predicted. In the end, the biggest game Saturday just concluded in another loss for Ohio State to Top 5 team.

All things had been pointing to a demoralizing blowout for the No. 8 Buckeyes, regardless of the fact they were playing No. 3 Southern Cal inside The Horseshoe and the Trojans were starting freshman – and not a redshirt freshman -- Matt Barkley at quarterback. But the game wasn’t a blowout; it was an 18-15 nail-biter.

None of that meant much to the Buckeye faithful.

Not in The Horseshoe. Not in Columbus. Not anywhere Ohio State goes when its opponent on the other side of the football field is more than Navy or the Mid-American Conference punching bags the Buckeyes fatten their out-of-conference record on.

The Trojans, who have beaten Big Ten opponents 10 straight, resembled those lesser programs the way Tiger Woods does a weekend hacker with a 18 handicap.

In this game, the Trojans showed an unshakeable will to win. Not once did they put their sleek, young quarterback at serious risk. They let their defense dominate late, and it displayed the kind of toughness, discipline and quickness that secures Southern Cal's place among college football’s aristocracy.

Forget about the fact USC coach Pete Carroll had to rebuild his defense from scratch. It didn’t matter. Carroll dipped into his deep pile of talent and found replacements better than anything coach Jim Tressel had to counter them.

Tressel had no schemes – and no clue how -- to exploit the Trojan defense or to free his quarterback Terrelle Pryor for long runs or efficient, quick-strike passes. At times, the skittish Pryor looked to be operating a short-handed offense: something in the order of nine against 11.

Yet that’s been routine for Tressel’s Buckeyes. Time and again in the past five years, they have come up against top-tier programs and fallen apart.

Coming into this season, no one but the most rabid fan had penciled Ohio State down as a contender for a National Championship. Next year, its fans said. For the Big Ten title, sure; a conference title was doable.

But the Big Ten isn’t much of a football conference these days. Michigan State lost to Central Michigan, after all. OK, Michigan did beat Notre Dame, but how good are the Fighting Irish anyway?

So winning the title means what?

Teams in the Big Ten live on yesteryear’s successes. Those yesteryears were in the long ago. In the present, in these Saturdays that tick toward bowl selections, the Buckeyes and their Big Ten brethren have plenty to prove.

That became clear from watching the Trojans wear down the Buckeyes, a team that most were calling the best in the conference.

For Tressel and his Buckeyes, the conference title – and, of course, beating Michigan again -- is about all that remains. Both are nice consolation prizes, ones that Ohio State fans can think about as they replay in their minds another loss to a big-time program.